Devil May Care (Four Horsemen MC Book 4) (24 page)

He got to his feet. “Damn. I might need one of those.”  He laughed, but it was a harsh, grieving sound.  For the first time in a while, his guard was down.  His blue eyes were filled with such sorrow, it almost took her breath away.

“Listen to me, sittin’ here goin’ on about my shit, when the man you love was nearly beaten to death. And it’s my fault.”

“Ain’t in love with him,” he said stubbornly. “Ain’t your fault, neither. Beauregard did this.” There was unholy fire in his eyes. She had no doubt Shep would give the bastard what was coming to him.

Eddie wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down into a hug. “I’m here for you.  All you have to do is talk to me.”

“I can’t.”  Suddenly, she felt hot tears on her neck, sliding down. She rubbed his back, held him a long time.

After a bit, he chuckled, but it came out of as a half-sob. “Holy shit. I’m sittin’ here crying like a little girl.” He pulled slowly back. Then wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand.  “We’re both fucked, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, I think so.”  She held out her hand to him, which he took, grasping it firmly. “Come on. Let’s go drown our sorrows in baked goods.”

They went in the house together, at least tonight, neither one of them would be alone.

***

Eddie spent most of the night brooding and now the sun was about to come up.

She sat in one of her deck chairs, the non-rocking kind, because it would make her sea sick at the moment, with a cup of strong coffee and an afghan on her lap to ward off the chill. Shep was still asleep and she’d let him, so she could think.

Sleep had been impossible last night. She hadn’t even found the will to even get dressed today. She’d put on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.

 And she was probably still a bit drunk.

Her world had been ripped apart at the seams, or maybe it was just her memories, her foundation. What she thought was the truth of her past, her relationship, was apparently complete bullshit.

Then a red sports car snaked up the drive. The plates read: D3VIL1.
How appropriate.
Beauregard slid out of his sleek Jaguar and climbed her front stairs with purpose, all charm and swagger.

“Are you here to kill me?”

 “Well, that’s a fine how do you do. I’m merely dropping by to visit a potential colleague to see if she reached a conclusion on our business venture.”

She was torn. Part of her wanted to laugh at his sheer audacity, another wanted to blow a hole through his midsection. Luckily, she had the Colt on her lap, beneath the blanket.

 “You know what? If you aren’t here to shoot me, or turn me in to the authorities, you can get off my property. I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit right now. I’ve had a really bad night.”

He ignored her, instead sitting down in a deck chair. “Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t get off on killing,” Beauregard mused.

“I don’t think you mind a little murder. It’s your former job description, right? Hitmen love to kill. If you didn’t, you’d have a normal job. You’d sell real estate or make widgets or whatever the hell normal people do.” It was probably a bad idea to mouth off to him, but she had trouble finding any fucks to give at the moment. 

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, as I was sayin’, I’m not averse to shooting someone.  It’s just another aspect of my business, but I’m not collecting anyone’s teeth or hair or nails. No creepy shit.”

Eddie laughed at that, it sounded a little frantic to her own ears. “What? You want a medal for not being a psycho or something?”

He draped his long legs over the bannister, making himself completely at home like they were old friends or something. “Okay, so what the fuck happened to you?”

She gripped the Colt beneath the blanket.  “I don’t want to talk about it. Especially not with you. And what do you mean you don’t get off on it?” Eddie asked, raising a brow.

He shrugged. “I don’t. It’s a job.”

“You realize that’s sick, too, right?” she said. “You
should
feel bad about killin’ people.” Murder was a business to him. It would be disturbing as hell if he had some sort of sick, twisted pleasure in it, but it would at least be emotional. But, no, Beauregard was some sort of unfeeling killing machine.  He could gun her down and it wouldn’t even faze him.

Abruptly, he changed the subject and she wondered if she’d hit a sore spot. “So tell me, have you reconsidered my offer?”

She shook her head and then regretted it instantly. Dear God, she had a headache. “Hell no. I want to make my own ‘shine, how I see fit. And I want nothing to do with you and your family, or your business partners.”

“That old song, huh?” he said, turning to her and heaving a sigh.

 “Fuck off.” 

Right now, she had more guts than good sense. Screaming for Shep would be smart and she realized she should be scared. She was sitting next to a hit man on a porch.  He could blow her away and be on his merry way and no one would be the wiser. But she wasn’t. Being dead sounded a hell of a lot more blissful than all the shit she was dealing with.  How sad was that?

He laughed. “Not many people say that to me.”

“Oh yeah? What do they usually say?”

 “No, please don’t,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t hurt me.”

It should have scared the shit out of her, but it pissed her off instead. “Yeah, I don’t beg.”

“No, I don’t reckon you do.” There was something like admiration in his tone. “So, come on, what’s wrong with you, anyway? It’s like you’re broken or something.”

“Don’t tell me you care.”

He placed his hands in his pockets. “I’m a bit curious. You’re still drunker than a skunk and wearin’ what? Somethin’ you found on the floor of your bedroom? I don’t know you well, but I’ve never seen you around town without makeup and high heels.”

She dodged the question. “Just got some bad news is all. Why are you playin’ at bein a therapist?”

“I know a thing or two about people,” he said. “What kind of bad news?”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

She took another sip of coffee “Oh hell, I might as well tell you since you won’t shut up about it.” She wasn’t drunk enough to let all of the news spill, but was curious about his mom “I can’t be all delicate and shit right now. Your momma was fuckin’ my husband.”

He nodded stiffly. “That she was.” He snagged her coffee and took a long swallow. “How did you find out?” he asked.

“My business, not yours,” Eddie said with a scowl. “But am I the last person to get this fuckin’ memo?” she said.  God damn it.

 “Yeah, there were rumors flyin’ around at the time. Lord knows my daddy asked her about it enough.” His smile was a tad ferocious. “Well, asked her with his fists.”

She couldn’t deal with his childhood trauma at the moment. “I didn’t know.”

“How the hell could you not know? That was some fucking juicy gossip.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “I was a bit busy raising my kids and taking care of my home. I didn’t have time to gab much.” In fact, she hadn’t had time to do a lot of things like sleep and brush her teeth. Her life had been a whirlwind, because she did the majority of the parenting.

“I see. Or maybe you didn’t want to know. You didn’t see a difference in his behavior?”

She didn’t answer him. “How did you find out?”

“Overheard grownups talkin’ at the time. That, and she wrote about it in her diary. I found it in one of her boxes in the attic when I was a teenager,” he said, his lips twisting.

Eddie forced herself to ask. “What did she write about?”

“The kind of shit a son should never read about his own mother.  And it’s pretty fucking graphic, as in
pornographic
.”

Her stomach rolled in response. Dear God, she felt like she was on a ship and everything was rocking. And not from the amount of alcohol she’d had.  “That’s
disgusting
.” She was at home with their children while Joker was having some kind of screw-a-thon with this woman.

It made her blood boil. Made her want to curl up and die, too.

He raised a glass, toasting her with her own drink. “My sentiments exactly.”

“And you know for sure they were planning on running off together?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She thought they were soulmates. They were going to leave us both behind.”

“Well,
fuck
them,” she said succinctly.

Beauregard laughed. “Preach it, momma.”

She kept trying to figure it out. When had it all gone wrong?

Maybe Joker had been bored in bed. After the kids came, there was no time for lingerie and perfume, and sultry Sunday mornings spent in bed. Their sex life had sort of fizzled the last year before he went to jail, but he’d never said anything about it.

Eddie bet the Beauregard woman could afford a nanny to look after her brats and take the time to put on fancy underwear, too. “Your momma was kind of a whore, huh?” she snarled.

He glared at her, and his features grew tight.  “Way I figure it? If you had more of her skills, you could have kept your man in your bed, instead of letting him stray and ruining my family.”

“And fuck you again,” she said between gritted teeth

“Right back at ya.”

They sat in silence for a long time.

Finally, she spoke. “Hindsight has bitten me on the ass. I should have been paying better attention to my lyin,’ cheatin’, sack-of-shit husband.”

Beauregard sighed. “Ain’t your fault, never was.  This crap right here. This is why I don’t get married. Who needs to be irrational all the fucking time? Up and down.” He gestured to her. “Take you, for instance. You’re a mess. I never want a woman to have that kind of power over me.”

She laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “Good luck with that, because your momma already did and she’s still doing it from beyond the grave.”

His eyes flashed and she wondered if she’d pushed him too far. “You callin’ me some kind of momma’s boy?”

“I’m pointin’ out the obvious. Everyone’s got issues,
kid
.” She used the moniker deliberately, reminding him she was older, though perhaps not wiser given this recent revelation. “The reason you’re so dead set against love is because you think it tore apart your family.”

“It did.”

“Wrong. It was possessiveness,
selfishness
that ripped up your home and mine, too. Love isn’t to blame.”

Huh. How about that? Joker hadn’t been able to destroy her inner romantic.

He snorted in response, although she could practically feel his skepticism. Then, he stood up.  “Shit. This is pointless. I came here for a decision but you’re too fucked up to give me one.”

Oh, yay, she wouldn’t be shot or handed over to the authorities this morning. Yippee. “Where does that leave us?”

“At an impasse. You got yourself another twenty-four hours. And then? The feds are getting a call.” With that, he took off like the proverbial bat out of hell.

 Make that a bastard out of hell.

She wondered if she’d gotten a stay of execution, so to speak, because they’d both been wronged by Joker and Loretta. Regardless, she’d live to fight another day. 

Eddie didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing.

Chapter Eighteen

That morning, Captain left a very detailed message for his lawyer. He’d set aside funds for Lex’s schooling and he’d made her the sole beneficiary of his estate. He didn’t have much, but it’d be enough to get her through school and help ease the way for her after she graduated, so she could find a good job. Knowing she’d be taken care of, eased his mind a great deal.

After he finished, he went to Hades, and then to the college. Captain found Lex in her dorm room, laying on the bed with her nose in a book, as per usual.  She had her door propped open, drinking a cup of coffee as she read.  

Damn, he had no idea where she got the study bug. Neither he nor her mother were what you’d call academic types, but she seemed to love it.  She was an amazing kid. It was damn shame he wouldn’t get to see her graduate or get her first job in her field. Or walk down the aisle to meet some lucky son of a bitch who probably wouldn’t deserve her.

Tears threatened and he sucked it up.  He wouldn’t give her cause for alarm. She certainly didn’t need all the gory details. The club would supply her with a plausible lie.

She blinked when she saw him. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “Just thought I’d drop by, see what you were up to.” He couldn’t leave this life  behind without seeing her one more time.

He handed her a milkshake. “Check it out. I stopped by Hades, and got you a strawberry one, your old favorite.” He’d snagged a plain vanilla one for himself. It was a fitting last meal, better than anything you’d get in prison, that’s for damn sure. “I gotta warn you, it’s a little melted.”

“Thanks, Dad!” She poked the straw in the top and took a big pull on the straw. “It’s good,” she muttered around the milk and ice cream. “But I still think you make the best ones.”

He just realized he wouldn’t be making her milkshakes ever again. Captain sank down on her bed, willing himself to hold it together. He couldn’t lose it in front of his daughter, it would only traumatize her.  “Remember the talk we had earlier?” he asked.

She cocked her head to the side “Which one? We’ve had a lot of talks.”

He laughed. “That your way of tellin’ me I give a lot of lectures?”

 “Maybe,” she said, though her eyes twinkled. God, he loved their banter. She never took any shit from him.

He absently brushed the hair away from her face. “I mean the one where I told you not to marry a biker,” he said.

“Ah, that one,” she said with a nod. “I remember.”

“I want you to make me a promise.” He didn’t want this life for her. Didn’t want her to sit home at night and wonder if her husband would make it home.

She shook her head. “I can only make you one promise. I’ll marry a man who makes me happy.”

“Lex, I want you to end up with a better man than me, kid. You deserve a normal everyday guy, an accountant, or a teacher. Someone you can rely on. Someone who won’t get his ass hauled to jail for somethin’. Or worse,” he said fiercely.