Whisky on My Mind (11 page)

****

Whisky parked in front of the apartment and waited for the guys accompanying her to park their big bikes nearby. “I won’t be too long, do you want to come upstairs or wait here?” she asked Shaggy as he came across to her.

“We’ll wait down here for
ya’ darlin’. Yell if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Shaggy,” she said
, rising on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his bristly cheek. She loved these guys. She’d have thought being away from them would have made them feel like strangers, but she’d been wrong. These guys had known her since she was a little girl and willingly allowed her to use them as hair models and tea party playmates, filling the gap where most kids played with friends from school and neighborhood kids. Whisky didn’t have that opportunity; being the kid of a biker made it a little hard to endear her to the parents of classmates.  

She sent him a bright smile before turning and climbing the few stairs to let herself into the building.

Inside the apartment was quiet. Too quiet, and Whisky’s heart started pounding. “Bella?” she called out, but got no reply. Racing down the hallway, she slid to an abrupt stop when she threw open her friend’s bedroom door and found Bella lying on the bed sketching on a large art pad.

Bella let out a shriek and scrambled to her knees on the bed, and Whisky let
out a long relieved breath, a hand over her heart to keep it in her chest.

“You scared the crap out of me, Sky!”

“I was calling you, why didn’t you answer me?”

Bella sent her a frustrated glare, pulling out an earplug and showing her that she’d been oblivious to her calling.

“Have you seen the news today?”

“No. I’ve been struck by inspiration for the first time in
weeks. Check out these outfits,” she beamed, thrusting the sketches of beautiful dresses and outfits toward her. “I don’t know what happened. I think finally getting it all out in the open with you and talking to Dr. Anu yesterday, helped. I mean, I still have no idea what I’m going to do…but I know I’m not going to give up my dream just yet. This is who I am, Sky,” she said softly, her eyes lifting from the drawings Whisky held to meet her gaze with a steady determination. There was still a dark shadow of torment underneath, but at least now there was also a spark of the familiar old Bella.

“Bell, that’s awesome. I’m so happy you’re feeling better.”

Bella reached over and took the sketches from Whisky’s hands and slid them into a backpack. “What were you saying about the news, earlier?”

For a moment Whisky had almost forgotten the reason she’d come over. “Ah, there’s been an incident…we’re in lockdown over at the club and I’m not leaving you here alone, so I’ve come to bring you back with me.”

“Lockdown? What the hell is a lockdown?”

“It’s a way to keep everyone safe.”

“Christ, Sky…what happened? And why would you be worried about me?”

“Sawyer and a few of the boys were shot at last night at the airport by another biker club.”

“Are they okay? Was anyone hurt?”

“They’re fine…but Bell, there’s something I need to tell you,” she said slowly. “They were there to meet Paul off his flight…to set him straight about the photos…only the shooters came out of nowhere and Paul was hit…he’s dead, Bell.”

“Oh my God,” she gasped, one hand flying to her cover her mouth. “He’s dead?”

Whisky nodded reluctantly. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Bell stared at her in stunned silence for what seemed like hours before slowly sliding off the bed to pace the room. “So, what does this mean?”

“It means that there’s a possibility that the Switchblades could do something again and we need to go someplace safe…just for a little while.”

“No, I mean what does this mean now that Paul is dead?”

“It means that you don’t have to worry about that video getting out
anymore. Sawyer took care of his computer and phone…had them destroyed…there’s nothing left to hurt you. There is one small problem…Sawyer had to say he was there to pick Paul up for you, as a favor. You might get a call from a detective about verifying that. All you have to say is that Paul was a school friend and you were supposed to pick him up from the airport, but Sawyer didn’t want you driving all the way into the city at that time of the night and went instead.”

“What if they ask more questions?”

“Just answer as honestly as you can. There’s nothing that links you to Paul as more than a guy who was in France with you on an internship exchange. Anyway, they may not even call you. That’s why it’s best that you come back with me. That way I know you’re okay and you’re protected. No one’s ever going to hurt you again, Bell. I promise.”

Bella’s eyes filled with unshed tears as the two girls stared at each other. “You and Sawyer have done so much for me, Sky. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“What kind of blood sister would I be if I wasn’t here when you needed me?”

“Thank you,” Bell said
, throwing her arms around Whisky and holding her tightly.

Whisky held her friend. The last few weeks had been horrible, never had she felt so helpless. She was so grateful to have a little bit of
the old Bell back again. Hopefully as soon as this mess was cleaned up, they could get back to the way things were, and then both of them could get on with their lives.

****

Mouse and Jackson walked with Whisky back to the club house after helping her lock up the bar. It had been a long night and she couldn’t wait to get to bed. Sawyer had been busy in his office most of the evening; she’d hardly seen him all day. He sat on a sofa with a few of the other guys watching the late night news.

He looked up and a tired smile spread across his face when he saw her. Whisky walked across the room toward him and he reached out a hand to her as she got close, pulling her onto his lap.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t realize it was so late or I would have come across to help lock up.”

“It’s okay. We took care of it,”
she said, loving the feel of his arms holding her tight and the familiar scent of him was like a balm to her wavering spirits. 

“Today Senator Bill Sorenson, father of slain
college student, Paul Sorenson who was shot down in a rival biker gang shootout three days ago, has held a press conference outside his office earlier today,” the news anchor’s voice announced, snagging her attention.

The camera switched to a well-dressed, distinguished looking man in a suit, surrounded by cameras and microphones.

“My son was an innocent victim in a violent crime. Crime that must be stopped. For too long we’ve allowed these so-called
one percenter
biker clubs to rule their streets without challenge. The time has come to put an end to this criminal behavior once and for all. I will fight to eradicate all motorcycle clubs across this great country and bring back common decency and the knowledge that our streets are once again safe from these rebellious groups of criminals who think they are somehow above the law.”

“Senator, is there any truth in the rumor that your son was somehow linked to one of these motorcycle groups?”

Whisky saw the practiced mask of the politician slip a little as he zeroed in on the reporter who asked the question. “Absolutely not. My son was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. This could have been anyone’s son. How many more innocent children must we lose to gang violence before something is done?”

“It had to be a politician’s kid,” Dog muttered, taking a long gulp of his beer.

“He’s good,” Shaggy shook his head slowly as he watched the cool-faced man on the TV screen calmly answer each question with a professionalism only seconded by acting. “If I didn’t know any better, he’d have me thinkin’ his kid was a saint.”

Whisky had to agree. The common room was a subdued place after the news segment ended.

“You think this guy’s threat carries any weight?” Shaggy asked, looking at Sawyer for an answer.

“I doubt it. He’s just
makin’ noise. It might stir up the cops for a while. But what are they gonna’ do? They’ve never been able to shut down motor cycle clubs before, and if they tried they’d have a war on their hands. Besides. It’s not going to affect us.”

“Only if he puts pressure on the cops,” Brick added. “They’re
gonna’ want to know what he was doin’ with us.”

“Sorenson doesn’t want that angle
gettin’ out any more than we do,” Sawyer answered.

“If only there was some way of getting out what a scumbag Paul was, without bringing Bella into it. It makes me sick hearing him talked about as some innocent,” Whisky scoffed.

“Everyone just needs to stay cool. If the cops come back and want to question us some more—we let em’. We got nothin’ to hide. We were there to pick up the kid as a favor to a friend,” Sawyer instructed calmly.

Whisky couldn’t be as calm about it though. Inside she was fuming. Who was standing up for poor Bella? She was the innocent victim in all this
, and now the whole world was looking at photos of Paul being broadcasted all across the news as though he were some kind of martyr. How had life become so screwed up?

Chapter 10

She was just leaving her last lecture for the day when a man stepped out from the shade of a tree and into her path.

At first it didn’t register that it was more than an accident, until she looked up and caught sight of the familiar face. “Caleb? What are you doing on campus?” she asked, automatically looking behind him to see Mouse and Shaggy approaching at rapid speed. She put her hand up and shook her head, giving them a smile to let them know it was
all right.

Caleb glanced over his shoulder briefly, his expression hooded as he turned back to face her. “Personal protection
these days, Sky? Is this how you wanted to live your life?”

Already she was regretting that she’d stopped to talk. She’d forgotten briefly that she didn’t like the
Detective
Caleb. For the briefest of moments her stomach had given a little tickle when she’d seen him, as her body remembered this was the man she’d fantasized about for three long months before she’d actually gotten up the nerve to speak to him. “I take it this isn’t a social visit, Detective?” she said coolly.

Caleb’s frown seemed to darken a little more at her words. “Actually it is. I wanted to talk to you…as a friend. Can we grab a cup of coffee?”

Curse the man and his blatant misuse of her one weak spot. She was in desperate need of a caffeine hit, and even more so now that he’d added a fresh burst of new stress to her life. “I guess so. But it has to be quick. I have to get back to the bar.”

“I’m surprised he lets you out of sight at all
,” Caleb remarked snidely.

Whisky stopped walking and stared up at him with a matching glare on her face. “On second thought, if all you’re going to do is give me grief about Sawyer—I think I’ll decline your offer.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll keep my opinions to myself,” he said, letting out a deep breath and rearranging his expression to less of a scowl.

Wordlessly, Whisky continued walking. Luckily it wasn’t too far to the coffee shop on campus and Whisky found a seat as Caleb offered to get their coffee.

“You remembered?” she said, a little surprised when he brought back her favorite blend, double strength Kenya Gold.

“Of course I remembered,” he said softly. “I spent three months silently hoping you’d notice me.”

Whisky swallowed a strange lump in her throat. Those precious moments she’d caught a glimpse of him each morning had been such a vital part of her life back then. Trapped in a job she hated, lonely with Bella having just left to study abroad, losing herself in that fantasy land of a tall dark stranger was the only high point of her day. Then everything had changed. Sawyer had come back into her life, pushing into her life and dragging her kicking and screaming toward a past she’d tried to bury. Then her mystery man suddenly spoke to her, and all of a sudden he had a name and a little of the mystery fell away to reveal a normal, everyday, not-so-perfect man. It sucked when fantasies weren’t as perfect as you wanted them to be.