X Marks the Spot (Executioners MC Book 1) (13 page)

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Authors: Kimmie Easley

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BOOK: X Marks the Spot (Executioners MC Book 1)
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I stepped into the corner liquor store and picked up a bottle of Jameson. I drove around for a while on the backroads, catching some wind and trying to clear my thoughts. It left me physically sick to leave Jo like I did. The betrayed and confused expression that consumed her twisted face cut me to my core.

She could never love me like she used to, not after all these years. The baggage was too heavy. The family would never approve. So why was being with Jolene the only thing I could think about? The need was gnawing at my gut.

I slumped back into my old vices, and without realizing where I was going, I ended up parked outside the D&K Diner. I leaned against my bike and waited. It didn’t take long. Angela spotted me as soon as she stepped out of the side door.

“Wow, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, didn’t expect to be here.”

She pulled her bright red lips into a seductive smile. “You don’t see me complaining, sugar. So, your little girlfriend couldn’t keep you satisfied, huh?”

The loaded question hung in the air like a tornado, fucking with my head. “You gonna hop on or not?”

She popped her lips and tilted her head. If she was waiting for me to beg, she had another thing coming. I cranked up the chopper, sending her into a tizzy. She threw one leg over the bike and straddled the seat behind me.

I fought the urge to slap her hands away as she threaded her long fingers together around my waist.

What the fuck am I doing
?

Everything in me screamed to drop her off at home and haul ass. I soared through town, unaware of the threatening eyes on me and my not so discreet passenger.

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

(Jolene)

Pain pierced my head. I attempted to pry open my heavy lids. I had spent most of the night constructing the time line. I tried to wait up for Ronin, but finally gave up and took another Ambien.

My mind had come up with every horrible scenario. When I asked Herc to go check on him, he simply shook his head, planting himself at my front door. I called Ruth, who reassured me that he was probably just handling business. I had even called his cell phone a few times.

Nothing.

As always when taking sleeping pills, I had to piece together the night before. Ronin had damn near lost his mind when I didn’t answer the bedroom door. The pained expression on his face nipped at me. Everything was spinning out of control and I hadn’t made any lead way on his murder case.

Shit
.

Remembering the meeting with Mr. Garner, I crawled out of bed and started the coffee pot. My heart plummeted when I noticed the unslept on couch. I tried to reassure myself by telling myself that if something had happened to him, I would have heard by now.

I turned on the hot water and cried. The heaviness in my chest was just too much. I let the heat work on my neck as I doubled over and bawled, allowing my emotions to flow, ready to suffer through another day.

I struggled to push Ronin from my thoughts. Why was he so hell bent on compromising his own defense?
After leaving Ronin one last message, I prepared for my meeting with Mr. Garner.

Feeling rejuvenated after my shower and almost an entire pot of coffee, I smiled at Herc and climbed into my car. The man took his babysitting job very seriously. I knew I should be grateful, especially since Ronin didn’t give a shit about sticking around to keep me safe. He had washed his hands of me and it was for the best.

“Ms. Miller for Mr. Garner, please.” I checked in with the secretary and waited in one of the chairs lining the wall.

After a few moments, the tall, blonde gentleman I remembered from the courtroom appeared.

“Ms. Miller, thanks so much for making the time to come in today.”

He shook my hand and motioned for me to have a seat across from his desk.

“Yes, well, you knew I wouldn’t be able to pass on such a cryptic message. Why am I here, Mr. Garner?”

He spun his chair around in my direction. His smug attitude was doing nothing for my resolve.

“Ms. Miller, I’m sure you’re aware of Mr. Steele’s connection with the motorcycle club, the Executioners?” He mocked me by using air quotes with the word club.

“You know that I am.”

“Are you also aware of the fact that we believe that Mr. Steele wasn’t working alone when he shot Mr. Numar?”

There it was. He had tipped his hand.

“And this is where I’m supposed to ask how you got your information. You’ll play coy, hoping to bait me, and because I’m so naïve, I’ll let something important slip. Am I close?”

My bold words must have caught the man by surprise. He leaned back in his chair, searching my face as he rubbed his chin.

“You’re no fool, Ms. Miller. I’m sure you’re able to handle yourself just fine when it comes to jaywalking or shoplifting down in San Diego. Second chair isn’t anything to sneeze at. I’m not knocking that. You’re young. You have a long career ahead of you, but this is the real deal. Your boy is going down for this, as well as anyone else from the gang who’s involved. You might want to pass that message along to daddy.”

Now it was my turn to stare. My insides quaked. I stood to hide my trembling legs.

He stood, grinning, escorting me toward the door. “I hope I didn’t waste your time, Ms. Miller.”

I turned and made eye contact with the man. “Oh, Mr. Garner, it’s never a waste of time when you’re able to peel away layers and see true colors. On the contrary, it’s quite beneficial. Good day, Mr. Garner.”

Trying to hold my composure, I exited the building and marched to my car before my emotions got the best of me, once again. I didn’t glance around for Herc, assuming that he was lurking in the shadows.

Once I was confined to the darkness of the parking garage, I rested my head on the steering wheel and cut loose. I cried angry tears. I cried hurt tears. Lonely tears and scared tears. Pain flooded my body. I sobbed uncontrollably, not caring about my appearance or makeup.

My life wasn’t supposed to be caught up in club bullshit. I wasn’t responsible for Ronin or his fucked up choices. At this point, I didn’t even know if I believed that he was innocent, but it didn’t matter.

None of it mattered.

Alex Numar was dead. The piece of trash who was responsible for burning down the house and the death of my innocent baby boy had finally gotten his payback. The entire house had been engulfed in flames, leaving no way out. The doors were useless. I remembered the way the intentional flames licked at my legs as I fought to climb out of the shattered window, glass shards piecing my swollen abdomen. I remembered the blood on Ronin’s hands and assuming that he had found the arsonist, only to find out it was my blood.

My precious, baby never stood a chance.

As we laid our innocent bundle to rest, Ronin promised that Numar would pay. Things would never be the same after that. In a way, I had lost my entire life that night, left to patch together some form of purpose. Much like a tattered old quilt made from throwaway scraps.

It didn’t matter who killed Numar. He was dead and I would happily defend whoever pulled the trigger.

I attempted to regain my composure as I wiped away the thick mascara smudges. That was twice today that I’d had a good pity cry. Now, it was time for me to pull up my big girl panties and put a hurting on Garner. I reveled in the fact that he underestimated me, assuming that I was nothing but motorcycle trash, a second chair from the wrong side of the tracks.

This could be fun.

Crash!

My stomach lurched into my throat as I scrambled to the passenger side floorboard. Glass shattered like a rainstorm. My entire body trembled, waiting for my attacker to come back to finish the job. I fished my small Smith & Wesson from the glove compartment.

I crouched down. Every muscle in my body tensed as I heard footsteps. I gripped the handgun with my shaking hands. Someone tried to open the backdoor. My insides pitched as I struggled to hold my breath.

I heard the front door. “I’ve got a gun and I will use it!”

I squeezed my eyes shut and readied myself to pull the trigger.

“Jo?”

The deep voice was soft and quivering.

I opened my eyes and found Herc staring back at me. He looked like hell, with a big slash across his arm. His lip was busted and swollen. Bruising had already started around his eyes.

“Oh my god! Are you ok?” I asked.

He ignored my question and worked at getting me out of the car unharmed. After bringing me to safety, he whipped out his cell phone and started punching buttons with his large fingers.

I surveyed the damage to my car. The entire back glass had been busted out. I rummaged around in the back seat, careful not to cut myself, until I found what had been used as the weapon.

A brick. It had a note wrapped around it, held in place with a rubber band.


Your only warning. We’re coming
.’

I shoved the note in Herc’s face, who was now actually talking on the phone using short, curt answers. He slowly read the note out loud to the person on the other end.

“Sir.”

My father.

He hung up and held out a helmet.

“What about my car? What about calling the cops?”

Herc shrugged and shoved the helmet out further. I threw my gun into my satchel and threw it over my head and one shoulder before strapping on the helmet. I wrapped my arms around the big man since he wasn’t taking it slow and easy this time. He put the hammer down as he burned up the asphalt, passing the apartment complex, and heading straight out of town.

There was no use trying to talk to him. He had clearly been given an order and he was a man on a mission. A man with a one track mind when it came to the club.

He drove for what I guessed had to be an hour or more. The air grew colder as we turned off the highway and onto a narrow side road through the sequoias, confirming my suspicions that we were headed to the cabin. I hadn’t been there since I was a teenager. It had always been one of my favorite places. I had good and bad memories of my mother, but if they were good, they were probably at the cabin.

It had also been one of Ronin and mine’s favorite spots to sneak away for some alone time.

Herc pulled up to the front and helped me off the bike.

“What are we doing here?”

“Safe.”

“For how long?”

The man shrugged and turned his back to me. He was standing watch, like a ruthless guard dog, almost hoping someone would test his skills. I could see in his face that he was beating himself up about what had happened.

I strolled through the house, looking at all of the old photos of the club and my family from over the years. My chest swelled as I was reminded of the small, personal touches that my mother had put into the cabin.

Over the years, it had become the perfect combination of Ruth and my mother. It made my insides warm. The quilt on the edge of the old, leather sofa brought back a flood of memories.

I had helped my mother cut out all of the fabric squares. I was so proud of myself for doing a big girl job. My mother died before we were able to finish it. After Ruth came into the picture, she waited a few years for me to feel ready before asking if I wanted to finish the quilt.

It was one of my favorite material possessions.

The door cracked, causing me to grab the closest thing to arm myself, the fire poker, and hide behind the recliner.

“What are you doing here?” I asked my sister.

“Pop sent me up to check on you. Here are some of your things and he said to tell you that they’ll be up soon.”

I noticed the way Jessa was gawking at me. “What?”

“Don’t you want to clean that up?” She pointed to my head.

I went to check the bathroom mirror with Jessa quick on my heels.

“Holy shit!” Shocked to see a thick, crusty stream of blood that had dripped down from a deep gash in my eyebrow. My hands shook as I wet a tissue and struggled to wipe away the dried blood.

“Here, let me help you.” Jessa took the tissue and gingerly dabbed at my cheek, working her way up to my eye. “You must have hit it on the dash or something when the brick hit.”

I hadn’t heard a gentle word from my sister in years. The kind gesture brought hot tears to my already puffy eyes.

“Am I hurting you?”

I shook my head. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Jessa tilted her head and smiled. “I didn’t mean to get you caught up in all this bullshit. I should have listened to Pop and kept you at a distance.”

“If you had, Ronin would still be in jail. And Sanders is an idiot. He would go away for life.”

“Yeah,” Jessa hung her head. “But shit’s getting out of hand. You’re in danger. They know you’re important to Ronin. They won’t think twice about going through you to get to him.”

“Who’s they?”

Jessa shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Around here, the tactics are always the same. But if I had to guess, I’d say the Pistol Kings.”

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