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Authors: Lexy Timms

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“That wasn’t Craig,” she said shakily.

“Maybe not behind the wheel, but I’m willing to bet he had something to do with it.”

Katie took a deep breath and set her feet. She couldn’t shake the shock exploding inside of her. “It’s not Craig,” she repeated.

Morgan didn’t answer as he grabbed one of the guns and checked to see if it was loaded.

“You know that car belongs to my father’s company.” Katie watched him pause, and all three sets of eyes zoomed in on her. “I-I would recognize one of his company fleet anywhere. An-and that guy hanging out the window, I’ve seen him around too. He used to show up in the office every once in a while. It wasn’t Craig. Those were my father’s guys.”

Clive shook his head, not interested in what she had to say. He turned to the club president.

Morgan sighed, refusing to look at Katie as he spoke, “Craig threatened to take out this whole crew. What better way to do it and make some money than to work with Katie’s father? Now go.”

Billy muttered a few curses. “Come on, Katie. I’ll have Jack make you a drink.” He nodded at Clive. “You go with Morgan.” Billy propelled Katie across the lot.

She followed, gawking at Morgan, her head turning almost painfully on her neck as she went. Her feet dragged, but she went. Her thoughts tumbled around her brain and she couldn’t put them in any kind of order. Was Craig working with her father? Why would he do that? Could he really betray Morgan to that extent?
Why not? He tried to take you down.

In the bar, Billy sat her at the counter. Jack slid a tumbler of whiskey with a perfect little slice of lemon over to her. She managed a smile. “You remembered.”

Jack chuckled, “I remember everything. I have one of those eidetic memories. People think that’s bullshit, but it isn’t. I can tell you that the first day you walked in here, you had your hair in one of those fancy little braids, and you wore a pair of really wide white pants. They’re called Palazzo pants but I think they’re ugly as hell and why any woman, even one as capable as you are of pulling that off, would want to wear them is beyond me.”

She pressed her lips together, thankful for the distraction. “You know your fashion.”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not a homosexual thing. It’s a memory thing. Those things were all the rage at one time, and I remember an ex of mine loved them.”

Katie said sincerely, “I wasn’t
even
going to suggest you were gay.” She raised her glass and pretended not to see it shaking. “I kind of like not having a whole lemon dumped into my drink, thank you.”

Jack winked. “It would have been bleach, not a lemon.” He smirked, but she somehow doubted he was joking, at all.

She took a long swallow of her liquid and let it warm her throat back to feeling as she looked around at the bar. There were a few customers other than the crew, but none sat near enough to hear them speaking. She lowered her voice anyway. “Jack, is there any way to fix this thing between Morgan and Craig?’

He polished a glass and shrugged. “I heard he kidnapped you.”

She sighed. “He did. Scared the shit out of me. I really thought he was going to kill me.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t.” Jack studied her face. “Craig’s getting a lot crazier. He’s been that way…”

“Ever since Lisa died. Yeah, I know.” She knocked back another gulp of the whiskey. She was getting used to this everyone knowing about everyone’s business. “He’s angry with Morgan. I get it in a way; this was his family. But he can’t seem to understand that Morgan saved his life.”

“This ain’t just about that.” Jack set the glass aside, looked around, and leaned over the bar. “Look, I don’t talk about the crew; they’re my crew, not yours. Bros before hos.” He let the words sink in before he continued, “But you’re Morgan’s old lady, and you’re the first woman he’s ever cared enough about to put that label on, and I saw you fire a gun at an OutKast to save his ass, so I’ll tell you what it’s really about, but it’s private, you understand?”

She stared at him. She should be insulted he’d referred to her as a ho and then an old lady, but she kind of figured that was biker talk. Something else surprised her. “Really? I mean, not that it’s private, I mean Morgan never…” her voice trailed off, not sure if saying the words out loud would jinx them.

“Oh, he’s had women. He’s not a virginal creature, make no mistake, but he thinks you’re something special, obviously.”

She blushed and hid behind the last little bit of her drink. “Thank you for telling me that.”

Morgan had said it too, while they’d been talking about her getting her own place, and she’d dismissed the statement. She had not recognized how huge as it was. Regret stormed in. How had she been stupid enough to overlook that? To overlook what he’d been trying to tell her about where he placed her in his life?

Jack refilled her drink. “Let me tell you something. Lisa…you know she had both those guys wrapped around her little finger from the time they were kids. She was always the damsel in distress. When they were teenagers she decided she wanted Morgan, and set out to get him but Morgan, well he knew how Craig felt about her, so he backed away and not slowly.”

Katie was glad for the drink; she needed another long sip.

“She decided to take Craig like a consolation prize, and then she put him through sheer hell for years. He was her best friend, unless she wanted him to sleep with her. She was wounded, make no mistake, but, hell, of all of them were. I met Morgan and Craig when they were snot-nosed little kids and her too, and even then I could have told you how that girl was going to end up.”

Curious, Katie asked, “How’d you meet them?”

Jack waved a hand. “It’s a long story. You’d be bored to tears in an hour. But even then she was messing up and getting them to take the blame. She worked both of them, but Morgan smartened up. You see, sometimes when you make a promise, you have to know that you can’t keep it when it was made under one set of circumstances… and then those circumstances change.”

His words were complicated, but they made sense. Time and life experience changed things. Katie sighed, “Isn’t that the truth.”

Jack said, “Damn right it is. They made her a promise when they were dumb-fuck kids who thought that when they turned eighteen, the world would suddenly become a magical place filled with good things. Only they didn’t stay kids, and they realized life isn’t about fucking unicorns and rainbows. Lisa chose to stay on the path she was on, no matter how often Morgan or Craig tried to drag her off it. Morgan smartened up. Craig let the thought of love blind him.”

“So why is he mad at Morgan?”

Jack pointed at her empty glass. “You need another?”

She shook her head, not even remembering she had finished it. “No, but thank you. Here, let me pay my tab.”

He chuckled. “Morgan owns this bar. He has one rule. Every crew person or old lady gets two drinks free then they pay. That includes you. You haven’t hit your limit yet.”

She grinned. “He’s a smart businessman.” Why he got himself into shit like drugs and shooting were beyond her. It had to do with how he grew up. Morgan wasn’t meant to be a business guy with a nine-to-five job and a suit. She couldn’t imagine him any other way than the way he was.

Jack placed his hands on the bar and leaned close. “Craig’s mad at Morgan because when Lisa decided she didn’t want to face real jail time and checked out, Morgan gave him the truth. Truth’s a funny thing, especially when it’s about someone you love. Craig didn’t want to hear it. He knew it, up in his head, you see, and plenty of other people had said the same things to him before, but having Morgan say it made it
real
.”

Katie licked her lips. “What was the truth?”

Jack leaned even closer. “She didn’t love him. She never had.”

Katie drew a shuddering breath. Sympathy filled her. “I see.”

Jack sighed. “She checked out. Craig thought she was murdered. He started a big-ass uproar over it too. Lots of folks got hurt in bad ways, Morgan included. Morgan kept him in the fold, but his actions got out of hand. Morgan can’t let him back in. If he lets him back, he has to deal with Nate and his crew beating down on the Orphans.”

“But they paid them,” Katie said.

Jack gave her a crooked grin. “That don’t mean shit in this case. You see, it’s a matter of principle. They picked the punishment and Morgan had to mete it out. It was fair, and it was just, and going back on his word, like taking Craig back, would be to shove a middle finger right into Nate’s face. Now keep in mind, they could have killed Craig right here that night and said eff-all to a bargain. But they gave Morgan the respect of his position, and he has to respect Nate’s.”

Katie rubbed her temples. “I’m never going to figure all these codes and things out, am I? Morgan doesn’t explain stuff and I don’t…I’ve never been around it, so I have no idea how to process it all.”

“Venn Diagram.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

He took a cocktail napkin, spread it out, and drew two circles on it, their edges overlapping. He tapped one circle, “This is you, and that one’s him. It’s where you meet, where you dot the diagram that really counts.”

“Jack, give me a beer!” Billy shouted from the end of the bar.

Jack nodded at her and walked off. Katie sat there, staring at the napkin. It was where they met that counted.

How had she never considered that simple and basic truth?

She got up and headed for the bathroom. It was surprisingly clean, and actually smelled nice. She locked the door and then stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair, the hair she’d put up so carefully in a low twist that morning, was a disheveled mess sprinkled with shimmery bits of glass. There was the tear in her blouse, and a large and rather suspicious-looking stain on the knees of her slacks. She sighed and ran water into the sink, using paper towels to try to clean the stains off her knees before taking her hair down, shaking the glass out into a nearby wastebasket. She re-pinned it into some semblance of neatness. She had sat out in the bar like that, and Jack didn’t even bat an eye.

Who was the woman looking back at her in the cloudy mirror? There was a sparkle in her eye, and a flush on her cheeks. She looked alive, and happy. Nearly shot to death, but full of life.

How was that even possible, given the circumstances?’

It was true, though.

For the first time in her life, she felt like she was actually living a life instead of just going through the motions.

“You’re either totally crazy, or an adrenaline junkie,” she said to the woman in the mirror, and the woman in the mirror gave her cheeky grin. Heaven forbid she ever try drugs or gambling. She’d probably lose everything in Black Jack and OD on marijuana.

Katie shook her head and walked out of the bathroom, right into Red.

He surveyed her face and asked, “How’re you doing?”

“I’m good.” She gave him a genuine smile. She liked Red. She knew he was a veterinarian in his ‘real’ life, as the guys called it, and that he was also an avid rescuer of dogs and cats and other battered animals. He was also a ruthless killer who’d done time for shooting a man in a bar fight. How he could manage to be so many things was confusing. “How’re you?”

Red smiled. “Damn good. I found a dog somebody dumped earlier today, so I can’t stick around. Gotta go check on the pup.”

“I don’t know why people do that.” Her heart ached for the adorable mutt she imagined in her head.

Red sighed. “They cut the little fella’s foot off and threw him off a bridge. When we found him, he was sitting in the middle of a canal on a little potato chip wrapper. He was just sitting there, all beaten down and broken. He didn’t even try to run when I went to him. He expected me to hurt him. He’s a trouper, though, and he’s going to come through it.”

Katie’s heart squeezed. “Thank you for getting him out of there.”

He chuckled. “Guess I should warn you, Morgan’s already laid dibs on the fella. Says he’ll call him Tripod and give him to you. Says you’re the only woman in the world who’d see the gift of a three-legged as what it is.”

She grinned. “I’d be honored if Tri wanted to hang with me.”

“Tri?” He banged his forehead. “Shit! It was supposed to be a surprise, so don’t tell Morgan I told you.” His eyes crinkled into nets of wrinkles as he added, “You know, Morgan must think you’re something real special. He never gave anyone anything before. Any woman, I mean. I was beginning to think the man had no intention of ever settling down. You’re good for him. Don’t think we don’t all know it.”

“He’s good for me,” she said softly.

Red grinned. “Then the two of you should get along just fine.”

CHAPTER 7

 

Morgan flew down on the roads on his bike, heading straight to Craig’s. He knew Craig wouldn’t be there, but he had to check. Frustrated that he was right, he pulled back onto the road and considered going to Lisa’s old place, but stopped. Craig wouldn’t be there either; he expected to be found there. He also wouldn’t be anywhere near Nate and his crew—or near any crew, for that matter.

Once exiled, going to another crew was a death sentence, or, worse, it would make sure he was put way down in the ranks, and Craig’s ego wouldn’t let that happen. He’d never be satisfied being a prospect for another crew.

That left one place.

Morgan pulled out onto the roads and zipped around cars and trucks as he headed downtown. Craig would have to be at the last club where Lisa had worked. He’d probably gotten a little dope and cut it, then started selling it to the girls there. Ironic, all things considered, but Craig wasn’t big on seeing irony.

As he rode through the sun-splashed streets, Morgan to figure out what the hell was going on. Why would Craig go after Katie and threaten to take down the club? Craig had been his brother. Maybe he should have just fought Nate, and let the chips fall where they may. It would have kept Craig in the crew, and at his side. They might have been able to work out the rest.

It would have ended in bloodshed, and Morgan knew it. One of them dead, possibly both of them.

The streets he rode became seedier with each passing block. The trendy restaurants and shops became fast food places and stores with signs reading
E-Z
Credit, the car dealerships became used car lots with dusty, sagging pennants and tired-looking cars sitting on the buckled and pitted asphalt of the lots.

The houses spread out, straggling, sagging things with patched roofs and overgrown lawns. Kids played in the streets, their ill-fitting clothes and makeshift toys tugging at his memory.

Nobody would ever understand the bond between Craig and him. They hadn’t lived through being woken up, often in the middle of the night, handed a shiny black plastic trash bag, and told to pack it up or lose it.

Others didn’t know what it was like to sit in cold offices, holding their breath as they were assigned to new homes and places. They hadn’t sat through countless adoption parties, those terrible mockeries of all the birthday parties they’d never had with balloons and cheerful, tasteless décor, and smiling couples who wanted a child.

Except him and Craig.

They had always been pushed aside and overlooked. Too old. Too cynical and bruised even then.

They had made a family together, and then they’d extended it. They’d named the crew the Orphans so that everyone would know that they were still there, still alive, and that they’d become a fused unit.

It hurt him way down in his soul that Craig betrayed him and the crew. Not just once, but time and time again. Morgan knew it was happening, of course; he’d watched as Craig muddled and messed things up. He had stood by, knowing he had hurt Craig by saying the things he had about Lisa, and that it was her death that had caused his aberrant behavior. Someone had to stop him eventually if he couldn’t stop himself.

The other guys knew it too, but they could only excuse so much. That day at the bar in front of the Outkasts, if he had said Craig stayed, the Orphans would have gone along with it. They wouldn’t have liked it, but they would have been down for whatever happened, or had to happen, to keep one of their crew walking.

That was the breaking point. It would have cost him every hard-won ounce of respect and loyalty he had gotten from his crew. Craig knew it, and so did every other person in their crew. Morgan could have kept Craig in, but it would have cost him his position as leader.

And he wasn’t willing to give that up.

It was his crew.

And Craig’s.

Damn it! Craig had lost his place the minute he’d crossed Nate.

By then his crimes against the crew had grown too much, with no going back. Morgan knew he was banishing his best friend, and that he was not only doing it because Craig deserved it, but because he hadn’t wanted to lose his place in the crew. It fucking was burying him alive.

Would it have been better to go down with Craig? To turn the crew over to Clive, with Craig still in, and him riding along demoted?

He didn’t know. Pride fucking ruined it all. He had failed Craig in a lot of ways, and he’d failed his crew too.

If he didn’t do something soon, Katie was going to be disappointed as well, or worse, wind up with a bullet in her pretty head.

He grit his teeth as he swung the bike past a series of lackluster ‘novelty’ shops and strip clubs, winding down a series of streets that became a polluted glut of cheap housing, second-hand stores, railroad tracks, and mobile home parks clustered next to discount grocery and wig stores.

He pulled into the pothole-riddled parking lot of the
Pink Little…
and gave the place a disgusted look. Everything about it was supposed to make the imagination fire up and work toward sex: The name, that suggestive and abruptly-ending thing, the garish façade of the decrepit place, the crumbling signs that stood up on the roof.

It all just looked tired and sad.

He shook his head as he dismounted from his bike and took the keys. Lisa had wound up here because she couldn’t find work anywhere else. She’d been fired from every other place she’d worked. Craig had put her in a nice home and bought her decent cars, and he’d given her every ounce of love he had, and this place—this shitty, rundown place—was what she’d really wanted out of life.

Morgan would never understand it. He had felt sorry for her, but he had also come to terms with the fact that Lisa didn’t want to be helped.

The door, steel heated by the sun, gave under his fingers and he walked into an aroma of beer, vomit, pine freshener, and stale perfume. His nose wrinkled.

The man at the desk said laconically, “Ten buck cover.”

“You got a centerfold up in there?”

Cold blue eyes met his. A toothpick worked its way from one side of the man’s rubbery lips to the other, “It’s the rules, asshole.”

“The hell it is.” Because he rode up on a bike, he was going to be a pushover? “Cover’s three bucks. Always has been. Try to dig into my pockets again and I’ll bust your head.”

The blue eyes didn’t waver. He was a man used to bluffing and blustering.

Morgan knew this piece of shit wasn’t the owner. The owner was a very rich man who used the place as a front for his illegal drug trade, and as a way to make sure he had losses on his tax statement every year. The doorman had probably been gouging unsuspecting customers for years with that ploy.

“Is that right? I don’t have to let you in here, you know.” He spat the toothpick out, not bothering to look were it landed on the grubby floor.

Morgan reached out, grabbed one large chunk of greasy gray hair, and slammed his head down hard onto the table. Then he did it again. When he let go, there was a spreading bruise on the wide expanse of forehead, and the blue eyes didn’t seem quite as chilly. “I think you might want to check again,” Morgan said evenly. “The cover’s three bucks. There’s a two-drink minimum.”

“Right. I must have thought it was the weekend.”

Morgan didn’t bother pointing that the cover wasn’t ten bucks even on a weekend. He pulled three ones from his wallet, tossed them on the counter, and walked past to the bar beyond.

Limp-looking woman strolled around the stages. None of them seemed particularly interested in being there. The men sitting around looked just as bored and disinterested as the women did.

Craig sat in the laughable VIP section, at a long table. He didn’t look at all surprised to see Morgan.

Morgan stuck a finger into the air, and when a waitress with a dirty costume and dulled pasties on her nipples approached, he said, “Beer, in a bottle, and don’t bother opening it. Make it two.”

Craig took a long pull from his beer and said, “What’s up, Morgan?”

“Someone took a few shots at me today.”

Craig’s face showed his surprise, and then his anger. “Say what?”

“You heard me. I need to know what the fuck you’re into with Blake Wilkes, because it looks like he’s got a contract on me.”

Craig shook his head. “Nah… I mean, no way, man. That wasn’t the deal.”

There was a deal, then. Morgan clenched his fists, ready to pull the same thing on Craig as he had on the doorman.

The waitress came back with the beers. Morgan paid and used the edge of the table to pop open the tepid brews. He handed one to Craig and said, “You’d better tell me what the fucking deal is then.”

Craig sighed. “Look, I had to take her. Her pops wanted her out of the way. For a day, anyway, while he had her place ransacked. Yours too. They were careful in your place, though.”

Good thing Katie had moved out of that high tower. Morgan thought back to his house; nothing had been moved. He hadn’t even noticed anything out of place. Angered simmered in his veins “What’re they looking for?”

Craig grimaced, “Copies of some fucking file.”

“Did he tell you what file?”

Craig shook his head.

Morgan wanted to punch him in the face. His fingers tightened around the bottle. “What’s he looking for, Craig? You keeping fucking everything up, you’re going to end up like Lisa.”

Craig stared at him, the hurt in his eyes evident before they turned angry. “I don’t have a fucking clue. He just offered me money for an easy job. You deserved to get your ass kicked. You and your high-horse ho.”

Morgan let the words slide. He wanted to knock the sense back into Craig, but now wasn’t the time. He took a swig of his beer and grimaced as the warm liquid ran down his throat. He jabbed a finger in Craig’s direction. “You want to know what he’s after?” He didn’t wait for Craig to respond. “He’s looking to see if she has copies of a file that would incriminate him.”

“For what?” Craig scoffed. “She’s not going to incriminate her own father.”

Morgan’s eyebrows went up. “For the murders of that crew and proof he’s after that land? Like hell she won’t.”

Craig paled. “Hell no.”

“Hell yes,” Morgan said emphatically. “You fucked us, Craig. If they found what they’re after or still think she has a copy, they’re out to kill her. And me. Not to mention the DEA is after the club now.”

“Whoa,” Craig held up his hands, “That wasn’t me, man. Blake Wilkes said he was going to have the city council run you out of town if she didn’t come home, and quick. I wasn’t supposed to take her home. He’s furious I took her. I was just supposed to scare the shit out of her so she would go to her house, or stay at yours.”

“So he could kill her,” Morgan said. “Wilkes sees his own daughter as disposable, you fucking idiot!”

Craig shook his head. “Bullshit! I’m telling you the dude just wanted the file. He said he wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”

“Dead doesn’t hurt. The dead can’t speak either.”

Craig stared at Morgan, unsure whether to believe him. “Are you serious about it being…did he have something to do with that mess?”

“He had everything to do with it. He’s ruthless.” Morgan took a swallow of beer and set it aside. “You’re in this, Craig, and the shit’s piling up. You said I had to choose between her and the crew. He told you to tell me that, didn’t he? He wants Katie back in his clutches or he’s running the crew out of town. That slimy, rich bastard doesn’t play by anybody’s rules but his own.” He pounded the table. “Fuck! Now I’ve got trouble at every corner and a hit on me and Katie.”

Craig ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Bro… Morgan, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Morgan glared at his once best friend. “Stay as far away as possible. That’s what you do. You’ve done enough. Head out of town; your ass is probably next on the list. The DEA has a shit ton of paper on us from all accounts. Guys are slipping out one by one. On my orders. This thing has to blow over, but before it does there’s going to be a lot of shit rolling right downhill, and you’re in its path as well.” Morgan stood. The trip here had been a waste of time, aside from trying to save Craig’s ass again. “Also, you’d better watch your six. That’s what I really came to tell you. Watch yourself, Craig, because if he put a hit out on me and Katie, he definitely took one out on you too.”

Craig looked down at the table and then back at Morgan. His lips pursed and flattened. “Thanks, I appreciate the advice. Hell knows I don’t deserve it.”

Morgan sighed. “Fuck, Craig! I didn’t mean to start a beef between us after Lisa died. I never wanted that. But it is what it is, and we can’t do a damn thing about it now.”

Craig stared at him. “You know, I never would have hurt Katie. I know she’s your Lisa. Not that she’s anything like Lisa…” his voice faded and his eyes wandered to the stripper on the stage. He looked back. “You got a real winner, Morgan. Keep her close.”

“I’m trying.”

Craig nodded. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You need to get out of town. Go clear your head somewhere.”

“Yeah.” Craig shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just stick around and let it fall where it does.”

BOOK: Billionaire Ransom
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