Page 17 of Blue-Eyed Jacks (Destroyers MC: Skilletsville PA #1)

W orking hard to make money is a fucking scam.

There’s a certain tipping point where all that hard work can’t get you any more scratch than the day before.

That’s when you look at that bank account and wonder where the fuck it’s all going.

Worse? You look at the suits on the banker holding your cash and realize, there . That’s where it’s going.

Hickey and Skinner droned on about the club’s investments. Time was, under men like Kush or Pinner, the highest money maker outside of drug and gun running was this fucking junkyard. Now, it barely kept the doors open.

When did ten grand become a small amount?

I pondered that while the geek squad of bikers got hard over spreadsheets.

I didn’t care much for the particular details, just the paycheck at the end of the month.

And this month, it was down. Sprout’s construction business was spending cash building houses that weren’t selling, the waterfront project was on hold because of one bullshit thing or another, and the cam girl business was flatlined because Grace couldn’t keep girls happy because she was unhappy.

And when your boss is a bitch, well…I didn’t blame them for finding a new boss.

A tentative knock at the door saved my ass from murder. “Knock like you fucking mean it, or don’t fucking bother.” I yelled, quieting both my treasurer, Hickey, and Skinner, who was damn good at computers.

A prospect shoved his face in. This one was supposed to be working at the desk at the junkyard. Which at least was making money. That was if someone was there to answer the goddamned phone.

“What!?”

“One of your hookups is calling for you again.”

My heart stumbled before picking up pace. “They’re always calling.”

He turned to go, but I stood up and snapped my fingers. “Give me the goddamned phone. Hopefully she’s got good phone sex. I’ll send her Grace’s way.” I shot the last at Hickey, who didn’t find it amusing.

“Yo. Jackson here.”

“Tell me where you were on Christmas Day, 1984.”

I stared at the phone. This wasn’t some bitch from the strip club, or one of the hangers, or even one of the hookers, not mine anyway… “Give me a minute, I gotta kick some assholes out before I get revved up on your sexy voice.” To the geek twins, I said, “Scram. We’ll finish later.”

Once the commotion of their collecting papers and laptops ended, I turned back to the call. “I was at your trailer that Christmas because Dad was on a job somewhere west and Mom was in a snit. Why are you calling, Crystal?”

“First, they’re gone.”

They . Stick a knife in my heart, will ya? “Where?”

“I don’t know. And I’m sure that’s on purpose.”

She said first . “And?”

“And John’s in the hospital. They shot him. Why?” Her voice was laced with pain.

I should ask a ton of questions. I should be getting my ass on my bike and riding somewhere to make solutions happen. But this was what I told Kate to do. Run and don’t stop. Don’t call, don’t contact me, and don’t look back. “When was this?”

She sighed. “It started over a month ago according to John. Kate had a package. It was delivered to his doorstep on accident. It had shit in there about her father’s death and a threat from that asshole. Then it escalated.”

“Escalated, how?”

“John dropped Kate off at the ice cream place, you know, the one at the bridge?”

I knew the place. Hard to believe it was still going strong after twenty-some years, but that wasn’t the point. “Why there?”

“Zoe just got a job there. You know about her, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Good, I don’t need to tell you how well that all went down, then.

Kate had bags packed, grabbed Zoe, and took off.

But someone must have seen her get out of John’s car.

They followed him around, harassing him and being a menace for a bit.

But mostly held off because he called in reinforcements from the mainland.

We thought it had blown over, but last night, they broke into his place and shot him.

Luckily, he had his shotgun and service revolver. ”

“Any of the assailants die?”

“Two.”

I needed that info. Nonno needed that info. “Have they been identified?”

“One of ‘em. He was from a local club. The other one isn’t in the system, so it’s taking longer.”

“Tats?” I asked, knowing it was a long shot that Crystal would have that information.

“I don’t know. I’ll ask.”

If there was a plant locally, she shouldn’t. “Don’t. I don’t want them targeting you, too.”

“Where would she go? I was hoping she went to you, but if she didn’t…”

“She’ll be fine,” I lied. Running scared and for over a month straight with a teenager, no matter how much Zoe might know or not know, had to be rough, but without family or friends—hell.

My mind flashed back to a glimpse of the driver and the tattoos that I’d logged to memory.

I knew where she was. And if I did, so did Shock for obvious reasons.

I hoped Kate was smarter than to go back to New Jersey.

“Jimmy,” Crystal started.

“Stop, you know better than to call me that. It’s Jackson.”

She cut me off. “I need you to find her. She’s a good woman, and Zoe? She’s like a daughter to me. You’d be proud of her.”

“Crystal Ann, I told Kate to leave me out of this. I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t ?” Her voice was hard.

“Can’t.” Even saying it, I knew what my next step was.

After making a few calls and raising some stink, or maybe even pulling in people who would have my back on this.

Of which, there were very few. I’d lied so long and well, it was a crap shoot if anyone would listen, let alone not take offense for being misled by a brother.

But saying the word “can’t” made my hackles rise.

There was no can’t. It was only a challenge I hadn’t conquered… yet.

“Anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“Stay safe and stay out of it. Lay low. That’s all.”

The line went dead. Crystal knew she wouldn’t get more out of me than what she already had. But she’d managed to twist me around her finger almost as well as Mom did with my father. Funny how well both of them knew how to do that shit.

I stared at the paneling of my office and wondered which string would be the thread that unraveled everything.

Pull too hard, and my life was over. Not just here, but permanently over.

I dug a folder out of my desk. One I’d sealed and hidden under a fake bottom in the lowest drawer.

Some time ago, I had a club member with government connections.

He helped me create a fake identity for myself and two women.

I stared at the envelope, still sealed, and never even looked at.

I shoved it back under the veneer plate and fixed that in place.

I wasn’t the kind of man to run. Moreover, I couldn’t trust the information wasn’t already compromised.

Which meant I needed to face this head-on.

“Sprout!” I yelled. There was always someone outside at my beck and call. In under a minute, the door of my office opened, and Skinner popped his head in.

“Hickey’s tracking him down.”

I motioned for him to come in. “Call Wolf in.” I made the hand gesture to indicate Hickey’s phone.

My VP needed to be the first to know. Maybe his wife would have ideas on how to hide Kate better.

She rode with a bunch of bitches who made it their life’s work to mess with assholes like Shock.

“Tell him that Tits needs to come with him.”

Skinner’s eyes went wide. Me asking for Tits was a minefield, and everyone knew it. She wasn’t sane by a long shot, and getting her involved in Destroyers’ business was one of those unavoidable but forbidden actions we all tiptoed around as much as possible.

But she owed me a favor, and this time, I bet she wouldn’t hold that over my head. If I handled it right. “I need you to track down street gangs in Trenton. Black clubs established for at least sixteen years.”

“Should I ask why?”

Skinner was on dangerous ground. “No. Just do it. I need it in two hours.”

His jaw shifted, and the gears turning in his head were reflected on his face. “That was some different kind of phone sex.”

“Fuck off. One hour and fifty-nine minutes, asshole.”

While I waited for Wolf to arrive and Skinner to track down the information, I made a call south.

“Who’s bleeding?” Disney needed new material.

“Yo momma,” I shot back automatically.

“Hey now, leave her out of this. What do you want?” In the background, there was the distinct shuffling of his bulk and the click of a door shutting. I counted on his discretion and he wasn’t failing me.

“First, I owe you an apology.”

“Ho-lee hell. Let me find my calendar. I gotta mark this date for posterity.”

“Those are awfully big words for you.” I turned in the chair, unable to sit still.

Disney laughed. “Sue me. A couple of my men snagged up some smart women, and they’re giving my Mary-Cherry a run for her money. She’s started one of those word-of-the-day calendars.”

I chuckled at his pain. It was either that or admit the truth.

It was a rare treat to find smart women, and in this life, practically impossible.

The rare few, like my VP’s old lady, were forces to reckon with.

Disney had more than one in his circle, marking him as a rare leader who’d tolerate that shit.

Which was exactly why I needed to be up front with him.

“About eighteen or nineteen years ago, I’d gotten a favor from you. ”

He made a noise that must have jiggled his memories. “Right. The hookup while playing hooky.”

Damn it. He remembered. “Yeah.”

“How bad is it, damage-wise?”

Thank God I didn’t have to explain myself or my actions, and he homed in on the precise issue. “It could take you down. So, if Nonno, or Big G asks, tell them the truth. If Shock asks, tell him to fuck off.”

There was an uncomfortable space of silence. Disney was thinking too hard. “This has something to do with that wife of his who disappeared, doesn’t it?”