Hell on Wheels (Four Horsemen MC Book 6) (27 page)

***

After spending the morning polishing Beauregard’s outrageously expensive shoes, Charlie snuck into his office once more. At least brushing his footwear had helped her work out some of her anger towards Axel.

Pawing each other and then pretending they were just partners in crime didn’t seem to be working. Charlie hoped he’d pull it together and finally make a move on her.

Coyote had texted her this morning and said he’d looped some video for Beauregard’s study and set it to play, so she could feel free to try the combinations any time she pleased.

Charlie kissed her St. Nicholas necklace and then she pulled out a list of random numbers she’d made and began entering them. Every time, it beeped, flashing
Combination Failed
. After she made it through ten tries, she folded the note and placed it in her pocket.

Charlie heard a throat clear right behind her.

Beauregard.

“Once again, I find you loiterin’ by my vault. I’m startin’ to get suspicious.”

Chapter Eighteen

“Mr. Lancing, if you could pull over to the side, please?” the border guard asked.

They’d been in line for nearly three hours and the drug dogs had made their way down the line of cars, doing random searches. The border agents gave some vehicles green lights, meaning they could drive through without being inspected. And others received red, which meant they got closer scrutiny. They had to answer questions and permit a vehicle inspection.

 They were getting closer and closer…only twenty yards away now.

Axel glanced over the guard as he recognized his own fake name, the guard motioned them with his hand. The man was in his fifties with graying hair at the temples. This must be the agent Bruja had made an arrangement with.

Coyote started up the van they pulled into his line. The brothers withdrew their fake passports, driver’s licenses, their visitor’s visas, and then answered a couple of random questions.

Axel held his breath, waiting.

The agent smirked at them after he handed back their documentation. “Everything looks good, boys. But there is the little matter of a border crossing fee.” And after ponying up a thousand dollars, the agent let them cross.

Axel closed his eyes, collapsing against the seat.
Fuck me. We got away with it. This time.

But there was no way he’d put the club or himself through that again. He’d have to confront Beauregard, make him see reason. Or die trying.

***

Charlie decided to give her seduction ploy another go. At this point, it was her only option.

“And again, I’m just making myself pretty.” She pulled a tube of cherry lip-gloss from her pocket. Then rimmed her lips with it and eyed Beauregard.

“I told you I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

“I don’t think you mean it,” Charlie said. Then pouted at him.  

“Then come here.” He crooked a finger at her.

Oh, God…

Charlie inched closer, a knot forming in her stomach.
I’m doing this to save my life. I’m doing this to save my life.
She kept playing the mantra over and over in mind, hoping she’d find the courage to touch the bastard.

Finally, she stood pressed against him. Charlie could feel the heat from his body, smell the rustic aroma of his cologne—a hint of wood smoke, salt, and sage.

Beauregard leaned down and for a terrible moment, she thought he’d put his lips on hers, but instead he breathed against her mouth, “Remember what I said about rewarding loyalty?”

Charlie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes.”

“You’re about to find out what happens when you’re
disloyal
.”

Craaaaappppp.

Charlie tried to make a run for it, but he grasped her arm and pushed her down into one of the chairs. “I can explain.”

“No explanations are necessary. You’re tryin’ to rob me,” he drawled, pulling a pistol from the top drawer of his desk. He cocked the gun, then pointed it at her head.

Her mind spun, searching for some plausible explanation. “I—”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear any lies. You’re gonna sit there, and you and I are gonna have a nice, long,
honest
conversation. I expect that’ll be a novelty for you.”

“But—”

“Not another word.”

Still pointing the pistol at her, Beauregard crossed to the bar and poured clear liquid into two cut glass tumbler. Then he sat down across from her and handed her a glass.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Moonshine. Drink up. It’s my granddaddy’s recipe.” He clinked his drink against hers and then picked up his gun.

Charlie stared at the liquid doubtfully.

“Cowards use poison,” he said with a smirk. “I do my killin’ with a gun,” he said, raising it.

Yeah, that’s not comforting.
Charlie hesitantly took a sip and set it down. She preferred Eddie’s brew.

“Now, as a rule, I don’t kill women. That’s a line I have not crossed. Convince me why I shouldn’t make an exception for you.”

Charlie raised her chin. “I’m not going to beg you for my life.” He could go fuck himself if that’s what he wanted. She’d never give him the satisfaction of pleading with him for anything.

He toasted her with his glass. “Congratulations on having a spine. I admire that in a woman. It’s so rare.”

“I don’t care what you admire. Are you going to kill me?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Beauregard said, raising a brow. “Tell me. Did Axel put you up to this?”

Charlie wouldn’t implicate the MC. The Horsemen had been kind to her. Just because she’d been stupid enough to get caught, she wouldn’t drag them down with her.

No, that was an evasion. She wouldn’t implicate Axel. Charlie wouldn’t drag him into this.

Charlie suddenly realized she cared more about saving him than her own skin. That was a first.

“I have my own reasons for robbing you.” She’d sidestepped his question easily.

“Like?”

 Before Beauregard killed her, she’d at least hear the bastard admit to his crime. “You killed a man about ten years ago. His name was Scott Nash, and he was a thief.”

For a moment, he stared at her, then ran a palm down his face. And Charlie could’ve sworn she saw something like shame flicker in his eyes. Maybe there was more to him than met the eye. He’d also seemed genuinely upset when Cotton had tried to choke her. While she didn’t what to make of it, she certainly didn’t forgive him.

“I remember him,” Byron said. “He was a talented man, methodical. He planned a damn good bank job.”

Charlie didn’t say anything, but her chest tightened.

 “Let me guess. You’re his daughter, right?”

“Yes.” She raised her chin and met his gaze.

“Damn.” He took a long drink of moonshine. “I guess my chickens have finally come home to roost. Tell me, did you come here to kill me?”

She laughed bitterly. “
I’m
not a killer. I was just after your money.”
And your secrets.

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head to study her as though he truly didn’t understand. “By all rights, you should want vengeance.”

Charlie realized he didn’t get it. In his world, an eye for an eye was the way things worked. “I’m not you, and I never want to be.”

“Interesting.” He took another sip of moonshine. “I didn’t want to kill your father, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to placate him, or beg, apologize for trying to rob him, or even put up with any of his bullshit. She was as good as dead anyway. Might as well die with dignity. “Oh, please. You’re a hitman. It’s not like you give a damn about the people you murder. You kill for money.”

“I’m a
former
hitman,” he corrected.

“And that wipes away your stains somehow? You’re saying it wasn’t your fault?”

“We all answer to someone, Ms. Nash.” He sighed, then raised the moonshine to his lips and drained the glass. “You used your real name?”

“Why not? You didn’t recognize it.”

“I’m not sure if that’s bold or rash,” Beauregard said thoughtfully. “You know, the decision to…
terminate
your father came from an associate of mine, Mr. Cotton Krug.”

“Cotton?” Her eyes widened. “He ordered you to kill my father?” She’d been in the same room with the two men responsible for murdering her father and she hadn’t known it at the time.

“The very same. Mr. Krug, once upon a time,” he said, as though telling her a very disturbing bedtime story, “used to be an enforcer for the Dixie Mafia. Until he became an underboss.”

Charlie rubbed her throat absently. “He choked his victims to death.”

“Yes, he strangled people. His nickname was Hush.” Beauregard sneered. “He specialized in…shall we say….handling my organization’s enemies, those folks who’d turned rat,” Beauregard explained. “And he practiced his craft in his free time, too. Mr. Krug had a thing for ladies of the night. Before he got too old to squeeze properly.” He mimed the action and Charlie shivered. “Arthritis, you know.” His lips twisted. “And between you and me? He gets off on it. Sexually.”

 Charlie shuddered, feeling like she might vomit. “Why did he order you to murder my father?”

Beauregard continued. “Before that, he was a no-account, two-bit hustler who didn’t have a pot to piss in. He grew up dirt-poor and that made him greedy, stingy. You see, he didn’t want to split the take. Mr. Krug has a habit of…eliminating contractors he hires. It’s no way to do business. Those sorts of relationships should be cultivated. You never know when you’ll need someone’s skill set in the future.”

Charlie didn’t like the speculative way he looked at her when he said that. “And he’s your boss?” she asked.

“He’s an
under
boss with my organization. And yes, a might higher on the food chain than myself.”

“So, you gunned my father down on that bastard’s orders,” she said bitterly.

“Well, at least I didn’t choke him.” Beauregard took another sip then licked his wet lips.

“You’re despicable.” Charlie glowered at him. “Like you’re somehow better than him because you don’t get off on it?”

“Well…
yeah
. I am better. At least saner.” His brow was furrowed as though he didn’t understand why she didn’t make the same distinction. “Unfortunately for your father, it was a ‘kill or be killed’ situation. And I protected my own life. I’ve always been a survivor. I may have liked your father, but not enough to take a bullet for him.”

Her father had died for nothing, on the whim of a madman. It all seemed so meaningless.

“That leaves us with one question. Whatever am I going to do with you?” Beauregard still held the pistol in his grasp.

“Let me go?” Charlie didn’t have a shot in hell, but it was worth a try.

Beauregard smiled at her and it chilled her to the bone. “Hmm.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe I will, providing you do a little something for me.”

“And what’s that?” Charlie asked.

“Well, I believe under the circumstances, you’re entitled to your vendetta. However, I suggest you aim all that righteous fury at the proper person.”

“Meaning Cotton,” she said, and then the implication set in. “Oh, my God. You want me to kill him.”

Beauregard nodded. “Yes, I think that’d solve both our problems, wouldn’t it? I don’t want to work for a madman, and you want to avenge your father’s murder. This is a win-win situation for both of us. Although, the method you choose to dispatch him with is up to you.” He waved a hand. “Choke him, shoot him, whatever you like. Just make sure no one traces it back to you or to me.”

Charlie suddenly felt lightheaded, like she might pass out. She’d never even hit anyone before.  “I already told you. I’m not a killer.”

He pointed the pistol at her.

Charlie flinched.

“Well, I am, Ms. Nash. If it makes you feel better, think of this as a ‘kill or be killed’ sort of situation.”

Chapter Nineteen

Axel was exhausted. He could hardly keep his eyes open.

After picking up Ace and driving hours back to Hell, they pulled up to an old warehouse on Devil Run Road. It was down the street from the one Eddie owned, the one Beauregard had burned down. Coyote drove the truck inside the steel building.

In tense silence, they unloaded all the decoy handyman supplies before grabbing the bricks of heroin. The drugs were wrapped in thick plastic and duct taped together. The brothers placed them on a stainless steel table in a set of Rubbermaid tubs.

“Who wants the first twelve-hour shift?” Axel asked, glancing at his watch. It was nearly one in the morning. “I can’t do it. I have Ryker’s wedding stuff later on today, but I can do a shift starting tomorrow morning.

Justice and Ace both raised their hands.

“Thanks for volunteering.” They needed a two-man operation, just to be safe. He glanced at Coyote and Steele. “You two can take the next shift?”

“Sure thing,” Coyote said.

“I appreciate it, brothers.” He slung a leg over his bike and groaned. Fuck, his ass was numb from riding that hard. “I’ll call Hades and have a couple hellions bring over some provisions when the diner opens tomorrow morning.”

With that, he headed out. Axel placed the order on Hades’ answering machine. Then thought about seeing Charlie. But he decided against it. Right now, he was frazzled. He wanted to take a shower, jump in bed, and get some sleep.

Axel would make the time to talk her to tomorrow.

***

Charlie couldn’t believe Perdition was the same bar.

It’d been transformed into a reception hall for Ryker and Elizabeth’s wedding. The bar had closed for a private party, so it was just bikers, hellions, and old ladies. Black and red balloons had been strewn around the walls. The underwear streamer had been temporarily taken down.

 All of the tables were decorated with candles and flowers in red, black, and white for the occasion. Plastic Harley Hot Wheels were scattered over the tables as decorations and party favors.

Charlie slid a couple into her pocket for a keepsake as she walked around surveying the place.  Assuming she was alive in a couple of days, they’d make a nice Hell souvenir.   The whole day had felt magical, an expression of love and family. And she’d gotten to be a part of it. This must be what it was like to have a home and community, Charlie mused. People who loved you and cared about your happiness.