Page 11

W atching Midnight leave out the door, locking it behind him, has me on edge.

I quickly change into some new clothes, knowing I am going to need to find my way to a laundromat at some point or other. Why did he have to catch me? I only needed a few days to figure out what I was going to do next.

God, what if he fires me over this? I feel like all I’ve done since I got here is do shit to possibly get fired.

After an hour, I realize he might not be coming back right away. He did ask me to stay, though, so I start going through tasks I need to complete at the shop. Maybe if I do a really good job, he will take it as compensation for sleeping on his couch last night.

I start to clean, but not just sweeping and mopping. No, I am so nervous that I start to anxiety clean. I’m on my knees scrubbing the baseboards when Elle shows up.

“Uh, morning, Lainey. What are you doing?” she asks, looking down at me as she locks the door behind her.

“Baseboards were dirty. Thought I would clean them,” I tell her, blowing my hair out of my face.

“It’s like eight in the morning. How did you even get in here?” she asks.

My heart is pounding in my chest as I continue to scrub.

“Midnight brought me in early. He wanted to talk about some computer stuff. He got a call, though, and had to run so I asked if I could just stay.” The lie falls from my lips easily.

Thankfully, she doesn’t question it.

“Ah, yeah, that happens a lot. Club life and all. You get used to it. Is he at least paying you for all of this? If not, girl, you need to figure out a hobby to stay busy instead of cleaning.”

I look over my shoulder and smile. “He’s paying me.” I don’t add that the payment is not firing me.

“Okay, well, have fun.”

She walks back toward her room as I continue to scrub like my life depends on it. By the time Jerico comes in two hours later, the entire lobby area is scrubbed clean and smells a little like bleach. My hands hurt too. They are red and angry from using bleach without gloves, but I didn’t think to put them on.

“Damn girl, you look all sweaty. It’s a sexy look on you. You sure you don’t want to hang out after work?” He winks at me.

I roll my eyes in return.”You would shit yourself if I ever took you up on your offer. Besides, I know that I am not attractive right now. I need a shower.”

He laughs. “Oh, Lainey baby. Men like a girl who can sweat. Makes us think of other ways we can make you sweat.”

He walks past me before stopping in the hallway. “You can go home and shower if you want. I’ll cover the front.”

My stomach drops.

Home.

I don’t have one of those anymore.

“Thanks, but I have some more cleaning to do, so I might as well stay sweaty. I appreciate the offer.”

He nods. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Hours pass as I clean every inch of the shop between answering phones and greeting people as they come in. I even get all the archiving done that Midnight asked me to do.

Still, he isn’t back.

It has me worried. What will I do if he doesn’t come back today? I was hoping he would let me stay another night or two. I could already hear the speech in my head.

Midnight, I know it’s not professional, but if you let me use your couch for a few nights, I will work a week for free. I will clean it off every morning, and I promise I will not disturb anything else.

It’s weak, but it’s all I have.

I’m so busy worrying about him that it startles me when my phone rings, and it’s his name on the caller ID.

“Hello,” I whisper into the phone.

“Why are you whispering?” he asks, sounding grumpy.

I clear my throat. “I don’t know.”

“Flower, you have to be confident. Own your shit. How’s the shop?”

“Smells slightly of bleach, but it’s clean. Listen, Midnight, I’m sorry about this morning.”

“Don’t worry about that. I need a favor. Do you know how to drive? Have a license?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good. I have someone headed your way. They are bringing you a car. I have a very important task for you,” he says.

“Anything,” I reply too quickly.

I’m desperate to keep this job, though. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I’ve been able to save up some money for a new place. I only need another few checks, and I can get a place on my own.

I will do anything this man asks if he lets me keep my job.

“The girls get out of school at three. I am supposed to pick them up, but I can’t. They don’t really know anyone else enough to get in a car with them, but I’m calling ahead and having the school tell them you will be there for them. Can you grab them for me?”

Wow. This is huge. I feel like he is telling me he trusts me with this one task. I know it’s likely out of necessity on his part, but he could have called Elle or Jerico. He called me, though.

“No problem. Which school?” I ask.

“Thanks, Flower. They go to Smithson Middle School. They have a key, but just in case they forgot it, the prospect will have a key for you. Take them to my place and wait with them.”

“Will do. Can I stop and get them dinner on the way?” I ask.

“Of course. Take money from the till for it. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Okay. See you later.”

He hangs up, leaving me reeling. I went from possibly being fired to getting his kids.

That’s a good sign, right?

Today has been a shit show.

Finding Lainey at the shop was the thing that started my pissy mood. I can’t believe she slept at the shop last night. I wonder how many nights she has been sleeping there.

She looked scared to death when she saw me standing there. I didn’t miss the tiny shorts with the tank top that was practically see-through that she was wearing. It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra.

My dick was hard and ready to show the girl what she did to me. My mind was angry. Not that she was sleeping at my shop, but at the same time, that’s exactly it. If she needed somewhere to stay, she should have called me. She could have slept at my house, or I would have gotten her a hotel room.

Why was she sleeping there in the first place? I didn’t have a chance to ask her about it, though. Reaper called and told me the clubhouse was being raided, and I rushed right over to support my brothers.

It took the cops hours to trample all over our property. They opened every single drawer, cut every pillow, and poured out every condiment. They even went to the garage and poured out all of our oil under the guise that we could be hiding something in it.

I hoped it would be over after that, but the fuckers decided to go further by demanding we all come down to the station. They couldn’t haul us all in, so Reaper called our lawyer to meet us there. I knew I would miss picking the girls up if I went, but I didn’t have much of a choice. With William being hell-bent on ruining the MC, they could use any little slip-up against us.

So I had to make a decision. Really, it was an easy one.

The girls have been begging me to let them see Lainey again. They already care about her so much that I found myself dialing her number without really thinking about it.

Then I realized she didn’t have a car. I didn’t even know if she had a license.

Thankfully she had a license and agreed to take care of the girls.

Still, I keep looking at my phone as if she will call me and tell me something is wrong. Being a parent is hard. You’re always worried.

“Michael Garcia,” the cop calls out.

I recognize him. Harry Wing. He used to be on our payroll.

Walking into the interrogation room, I find our lawyer already sitting there.

“Michael, do you know about a shipment of guns that was brought into the city last night?” Harry starts without introductions.

Of course I do, but I’m not telling him that. Instead, I look to my lawyer, and he nods his head.

“Nope,” I answer.

“What about the Medina Cartel?” He asks.

Again I look to my lawyer. Harry is already frustrated, but this little game is making him more so. It’s something we do a lot with them. Always look to the lawyer first. It pisses him off.

The lawyer nods again.

“I’m confused about the question. Am I supposed to know what that is?” I ask, playing dumb.

“The cartel you run shit for.”

“Excuse me, but that sounds like an accusation. Do you have any evidence that my client is running with a cartel?” the lawyer asks, giving Harry his full attention.

“I know because I have previous dealings with Michael,” Harry tells the lawyer.

“Are you saying that you have involvement with the cartel, Officer Wing? If so, I am going to have to stop this interview and ask that you be investigated.”

I snort at my lawyer’s response to this ridiculous questioning.

Harry glares at me. Then he turns off the recording device.

“Listen, I’m going to be honest with you. You have the most to lose when this shit goes through. If you turn now, I can keep you out of this and home with them girls.”

All humor leaves me. Another fucker threatening my kids.

This is not going to end well for him.

I lean forward, but my lawyer holds his hand up, pushing me back.

“Threatening children is way below the belt, Officer. You may have turned off your device, but I have not turned off mine. I suggest you stop this witch hunt and reconsider the path you are taking right now.”

“Is that a threat?” he spits out.

“Not at all. I only mean to say that you are looking in the wrong direction for these so-called guns you are looking for. We will be leaving now, and after this show, we are canceling the rest of the interviews. If you want to push this, we can go above your head. You might be bought and paid for by Mr. Dansworth, but not everyone is. Remember that.”

With that, we stand and find our way back to the waiting room. Reaper comes over to me, Bullet and Colt by his side.

“What happened?” Reaper whispers.

“Nothing. We are all done for now. Head out, but don’t go back to church. Find somewhere more secure to speak,” the lawyer whispers to us.

We follow him out of the station.

“You boys stay out of trouble” he says before he heads off toward his car.

We head toward our bikes. Bullet, Reaper, and I stay close while the other guys make a sort of barrier around us as they start talking loudly.

“Where are we going to meet?” I ask Reaper.

“Honk’s place. Is he still there?” Reaper asks Bullet.

He nods. “Harlee texted me ten minutes ago and said he was already passed out. Their shed is available.”

“Good. Let’s get the word out. Trigger needs to sweep the place.”

They go to their bikes, but I stop next to mine. “I’ll be right behind you. I want to check on the girls,” I tell Reaper.

He nods. “Bullet, stay with him. I’ll take the rest with me.”

Bullet nods, leaning on his bike.

I pull out my phone, smiling when I see I already have a text.

Flower: Girls wanted steak, so I took them to Romy’s. We are on our way home now.

Then another twenty minutes later.

Flower: We are home. Be safe.

This girl is far too young and innocent for me, but when she says things like that, it makes me want to say fuck the rules and take her anyway.

Instead of dwelling on her, I send her a simple text back.

Me: Still got some shit to do. Be home as soon as I can.

Then I pocket the phone. As I get on my bike, I notice Bullet still on his phone.

“Everything good, kid?”

He looks up at me. “She’s heartbroken, and I have no idea how to heal her.”

I nod. “Grief is a weird thing. All you can do is be there for her in whatever she needs.”

“I know, but I hate it. I want to vanquish all her demons, but this isn’t something I can murder for her.”

“Honk isn’t helping either.”

“Not at all, and honestly, I can’t blame him.”

“The man is hurting. I can’t imagine losing the person you’ve spent half your life with in a blink of an eye.”

“Me either, but Harlee…she doesn’t see it that way. She feels like it’s personal.”

“Shit, I get that. I don’t blame her either. We just have to hope that when Honk finally finds his way out of the bottom of a bottle, Harlee is still willing to let him be a part of her life.”

“I don’t know, man. I think it’s starting to wear on her,” he says, rubbing his face.

“All you can do is be there for her.”

“I am. Or I’m trying. Enough of this heavy shit. You still wanna go check on the girls?”

“Nah, I texted Lainey and she said they are good. We can head out.”

“Cool, and Midnight, thanks for letting me get that shit out.”

“No problem, brother,” I say as I get on my bike.

He climbs on his bike and starts it, and together we drive over to Honk’s house.

Poor Bullet is head over heels for little Harlee Swift. It used to be an issue because Honk would kill him, but these days I don’t think Honk knows what’s going on with his daughter.

It’s a sad situation. I hope they can get through it.

I got my own shit to figure out, though. Like how I’m going to protect my kids from this bullshit.