Sanctuary (Freaks MC Book 2), page 7
It had gone like a dream, everyone one of those cowardly pieces of shit would carry a permanent reminder of what happened when you fucked with The Freaks MC, yet it had left a bad taste in his mouth. The intel had been good, but they were just kids – not even old enough to drink – and had been no match for his brothers. But as he'd pounded his fist into that kid's face he hadn't cared. It didn't matter which one of them had put the knife into Mikey. They were all responsible, and the only reason that he hadn't killed him with his bare hands was because his brothers had pulled him away. As it was, he was going to be breathing through a tube for the foreseeable future and had probably lost an eye. Her tiny hand squeezed his and he smiled. “Witch.”
“I know what I see, Deke.”
NINE
So this was Seattle. Emma sat in the passenger seat of the black SUV and watched the scenery go by. It looked okay, she guessed. A little too big, but there seemed to be plenty of art galleries and cute little craft stores around. Briefly she wondered whether Beth had chosen this route deliberately. She glanced at the woman behind the wheel. “Thanks for this, Beth.”
“Not a problem. It will be nice to have an intelligent conversation for a change. There's a bottle of Chablis in the fridge, the kids are staying at a friend's for the night and I fully intend to get drunk for the first time since…well, forever.” Beth grinned. “You down with that?”
“Sounds perfect.” Actually Emma was trying to shake the feeling that she'd been railroaded. Deke had conveniently forgotten to tell her that he and Tiny would be on a run, only remembering to mention it the day before her flight, but had told her that Beth would pick her up from the airport and she was welcome to stay with her until he got into town. “Although I do have three houses to look at tomorrow.”
“You need any company? I'm not picking the kids up till tomorrow evening, so I have practically the whole day free.”
“Actually, that would be great. I could use another pair of eyes, but surely there's other stuff you'd rather do.”
“Housework, cooking, missing my babies and going to pick them up early. Nope, I think poking around somebody else's house sounds perfect.”
Beth turned on to a long, tree-lined avenue and pulled up outside a big old house at the end of a long, winding driveway with perfectly manicured lawns on either side. It looked more like the house belonging to a doctor than an outlaw biker and his old lady. “Wow, you have a lovely house.”
“Thanks, we like it.” Beth grabbed her bag and led her around to the back door. “It was a wreck when we bought it, and I don't recommend living in an RV to anyone, but it was worth it.”
Emma gazed around the expansive kitchen. No one could accuse Beth of being too specific. The room was tasteful, with cream walls, high gloss black appliances and granite counters, the only colors coming from the red tiles, blinds, a huge red range. The big dining table and old-fashioned sideboard covered with family photographs gave it a homey feel and the character of the house still shone through. Beth smiled. “Please, sit down. Coffee?”
“Please.” Instead of sitting, Emma wandered over to the sideboard and gazed at the photographs. She picked up one of Tiny, astride his Harley with a little blonde girl in front of him.
“That's my niece, Amy.” Beth took the picture and ran her thumb across it. “She died before I got pregnant with Abs. Losing her was the hardest thing we've ever had to deal with. To be honest, if it wasn't for Samson, I doubt Joe and I would have made it.”
“I'm so sorry.” Emma guessed there was much, much more to that story, but she just touched Beth's arm, then picked up a photo of Abigail holding her new baby brother. “Wow, he looks like his dad. I can't wait to meet him.”
“He's got his dad's personality, too. Not a peep from him most of the time, but when he loses his temper, everyone knows it.” Beth smiled. “You know, I'm beginning to understand why Samson fell in love with you.”
By the time they were halfway through the bottle of wine and a quarter-way through the pizza, Emma had decided she really liked Beth. At the wedding she'd come across as a little smug, but she guessed that being pregnant and marrying the man she loved could do that to a person. Now, though, she realized nothing could be further than the truth. She was smart, with a quick wit, and was so unashamedly in love with her husband that Emma could understand why Deke was so fond of her. She took another slice. “This is great, I can't remember when I last had homemade pizza.”
“Thank you. I don't make it often, but when we were kids, Joe's mom would make it for us. It's my comfort food.”
“So were you and Joe childhood sweethearts?”
“No. We've been together for nearly eight years, but I've known him all my life. One day, when I'm far more drunk than I am now, I'll tell you the whole sordid tale.” She grinned. “What about you? Samson told me you're an artist.”
“Yeah, I sell my canvases in Boise. They sell okay, but I do a few shifts in a local diner as well to stop me turning into a complete hermit as much as anything.” She grinned. “It's easy to lose track sometimes, and if I'm left to my own devices I can go days without seeing anyone.” She eyed the last slice of pizza. “Are you going to eat that?”
“Help yourself. I shouldn't be eating it at all. I put on so much weight with Luke.”
“You look fine to me.” Emma grinned. “You have a great figure, like a real woman. I'd love a body like yours.”
“You're very kind. But I've got a closet full of clothes that will tell you different.” She yawned. “Jesus, I'm sorry, I'm such a lightweight. It's really rude of me, but do you mind if I head upstairs? The prospect of a whole night with no snoring or crying babies is just too tempting.”
“I'm sure it is. You go on up. I'll clear this away then hit the hay as well.”
~ oOo ~
Beth was turning out to be the perfect house viewing partner. While Emma was swooning over the original doorknobs and wandering around yards trying to figure out where the chickens would live, she was poking damp patches suspiciously and discussing potential boundary issues with the agent.
Most of her house hunting had been done online, and it had been easy to narrow down her search: Plenty of outdoor space, sunny kitchen and room for a studio, all for as little as possible.
The first house they had looked at was an outright 'no.' While it had looked good on paper, the neighbors were too close and just felt all wrong. Emma had loved the second. It was in the most perfect location, a couple of hours’ drive from Seattle, and stood on a huge plot of land. The house had a few issues, but she figured she could fix it up. Beth had shaken her head, pulled out her cell and stepped outside, only to return minutes later, and handed Emma the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, baby girl. Beth tells me you want to put an offer on the place you're looking at.”
“It's perfect, I don't want to lose it.”
“I think you'll find perfect houses have a roof, sweetheart.”
“It has a roof... Mostly.”
“Do not do anything till I've looked at it. And stop pouting.”
“I'm not pouting. I do really like it, though.”
“Emma, I'm serious. You don't have the cash to fix it up, I'll help where I can, but I ain't a rich man.”
She sighed. He was right, of course. A small inheritance had paid for her last house, but there was no cash in the pot, and she doubted she'd get a mortgage with her meager income. “Fine. I won’t do anything rash. I promise.”
“Good girl. I'll see you this evening.”
“Okay, bye.” She passed the cell back to Beth. “Rat.”
“I'm under strict instructions not to let you do anything stupid.” She laughed. “His words, not mine. Come on, let's go and look at the other one.”
~ oOo ~
“I'm not sure about this.” Emma stood outside the clubhouse and stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Maybe I'll wait in the car.”
Beth smiled and, taking her arm, led her purposefully to the big black doors. “It's kind of a tradition to meet the guys here when they come back from a run, and Yaz is bringing the kids. Don't worry, you don't have to stick around for the party – I hardly ever do – but Samson will be disappointed if you're not here to meet him.”
The lingering scent of stale beer and weed combined with cheap perfume and sweat assailed her senses as she walked through the door. Emma wrinkled her nose and looked around. Everything from the walls, to the bar, even the clothes that the assembled women were wearing, was black. The only splash of color came from the huge double-headed viper painted in gold and red on the far wall. Despite the room being practically empty, a pall of smoke hung heavily from the ceiling, Beth frowned and wedged the doors open. “It wouldn't kill them to clean this place up now and again. Come on let's go and say hi to the girls.”
'The girls' eyed her suspiciously as Beth made the introductions. Only Bonnie, the President's old lady, smiled. “Hi love, welcome to Seattle. Beth tells me you're house hunting. How's that going?”
“Awful. Every time I find something I like, Beth and Deke pick on me.” She sighed. “I have another couple of days to look before I have to go home. hopefully I'll find something. I really don't want to have to live in my car.”
“Have you sold your house already?”
“Almost, I've accepted an offer and they're keen to move things along.” She grinned. “It really seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, though, I'm not so sure.”
“I hear you, love. I hate moving. The next time will most definitely be my last. You want a beer?” She nodded to a downtrodden-looking girl who was standing behind the bar. “Two beers over here, love.”
Beth straightened up and grinned as Abigail trotted in accompanied by a tall, thin woman in her fifties, carrying a sleeping baby in a car seat. “Hey, baby. Have you been good for Auntie Yaz?”
Abigail nodded. “I had cake.”
“Good for you.” Beth picked her up and kissed her cheek. “Did you miss me?”
“Down, mommy. Need Bonnie hugs.”
“That'll be a no, then.” She set her daughter on the floor and looked down at her sleeping son. “Thanks for having them, Yaz. It was great to have a night off.” She turned to Emma. “This is Samson's friend, Emma. Emma, this is Yaz.”
Yaz looked her up and down and sneered. “So, you fell for the old Samson charm. Hope you're not holding out any hope of him making you his ol' lady, cuz trust me, darling, that will never happen. If I were you, I'd go back to your nice little life and save yourself a lot of heartache.”
“Yaz.” Bonnie scowled. “Emma is Samson's guest. Have a little respect.”
“Just saying it as I see it.” Yaz took the offered beer and leaned back on the bar. “Everyone knows he's a dog. No way he'll commit to one woman.”
“Samson's a good guy.” Beth didn't take her eyes off her daughter, who was now having big hugs with a young guy leaning on the pool table.
“Well, you would say that. It's no secret how close you two are.” She looked up as the rumble of approaching Harleys filled the room. “Sounds like the guys are here.” Without another word she pushed herself away from the bar and strutted outside.
“Ignore her.” Beth laid her hand on Emma's arm. “For reasons best known to herself, she really doesn't like Samson. Come on, let's go and see your guy.”
~ oOo ~
Samson leaned back as the sound of approaching bikes grew closer. Nodding to his companion, he fired up the engine and they joined their brothers as they crossed the intersection. Despite Tiny's insistence that he should distance himself from the witness, it made sense that it should be him that dealt with it. And a high profile run such as this provided perfect cover. There were dozens of witnesses that would swear that he and Fox were with them the entire time, and he was confident his little chat with the bartender would be a sufficient incentive for him to forget what he saw.
While the media and TV would have people believe that the club rode around offing people at every opportunity, the truth was somewhat different. It happened, of course. Rats... people who hurt the club would often pay the ultimate price. But usually a well placed threat with – in this case – the offer to settle debts if the witness played ball, was enough. The last thing the club needed was bodies cluttering up the place. Samson grinned. There was always something satisfying about watching a stream of urine running down your victim's leg as you explained in graphic detail what would happen if he didn't retract his statement.
Now all they could do was wait and hope that it was enough. There was no physical evidence to tie Barney and Tiny to the cookhouse fire, and there was a good chance the case would collapse. Samson glanced over to his brother and gave a nod. They'd done all they could, and now it was time to return home to the arms of their families.
~ oOo ~
She looked wrong – too soft – standing with the other old ladies on the clubhouse steps. Even Beth had an edge to her now. The club did that to women. They had to be tough to survive, and although Samson knew she was far from being weak, Emma lacked that hard edge that the other old ladies had.
Her smile, as he dismounted and walked towards her, never quite reached her eyes, and he felt like a complete shit for expecting this of her. He should throw her on the back of his bike, take her straight back to the airport and stay out of her life forever. “Hey.” He ran his fingers through her hair – it looked like she'd dipped the ends in a rainbow – and kissed her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Reaching up, she touched his cheek and searched his face. “Yeah, I'm fine.”
Her hand held tightly in his felt warm, and he had no intention of letting her go as they made their way to the bar. It was his fault she'd had such a crappy first experience of the club, and he was determined it wasn't going to happen again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yaz look over and whisper something in her old man's ear. His grip tightened as the vice President laughed.
With her free hand Emma gently touched his forearm. “It's okay, Deke.”
No it wasn't. It couldn't be further from okay. He gave her hand a squeeze and forced himself to smile. “I know. Wanna beer?”
“Sure.” She grinned and looked down at her clothes. “I guess I should have tried to go for the biker chick look.”
“No.” Samson looked around the room. All the old ladies wore the same uniform: Jeans, leather jackets and black boots. Some, like Beth, managed to look classy, but others – his eyes fell on that skinny bitch – looked like trash. He ran his hand down the sleeve of the baggy, pale yellow cardigan she wore because she liked how it felt against her skin. “You look perfect.” He lifted her chin with his forefinger and kissed her. “You're perfect.”
“I love you.” She whispered so low he could hardly hear.
“I love you, too.”
“Aw listen to you.”
Samson spun around. “You got something to say, darling?”
“No, just getting me and my man a beer.” Yaz smirked and, grabbing the bottles, sauntered back to where Bugs was waiting.
“Deke.” Emma's arms snaked under his cut. “It's okay.”
There was no way he could explain why it wasn't. That it wasn't acceptable. She wouldn't understand. Pulling her closer and ignoring the crowds around them, he pressed his lips to her forehead. He was going to have to let that disrespect pass.
“Brother!”
Samson looked up and grinned as Barney slapped him on the shoulder. “Barney.”
“Need to talk to your guy, sweetheart.” Barney smiled at Emma. “Give us a minute.”
He knew how this worked. She should now disappear so they could talk. He tightened his hold on her – he'd promised to stick by her – Emma pushed herself away from him. “It's okay. I'll be with Beth when you need me.”
Barney leaned on the bar and watched as she walked away. “Cute. You gonna share that?”
Samson pulled himself to his full height. “That is my woman, brother.”
The SAA shrugged. “Sorry, man. Fox tells me that witness will cooperate.”
“Yeah. Explained to him that withdrawing his statement and disappearing would be profitable and he'd get to keep his remaining nine fingers. Standing up in court would get him dead... Slowly. He got the picture.” Samson drained his beer. “Looks like you got lucky this time.”
“I owe you, bro.”
“Yeah, you do.” He looked over to where Emma was sitting with Abi on her knee, deep in conversation with Beth and Tiny. His heart swelled with pride as Tiny threw his head back and laughed at something she said. It was probably at his expense, but he didn't care. His girl had made that stone-faced bastard laugh. His little witch was weaving her magic again.
TEN
Fucking Deke. Emma sat on the stoop and began to roll a cigarette. She was beginning to think he didn't want her to live in Washington. For two days they'd been looking, and every time she found a house she liked he'd start finding fault with it, and he refused to even look at the second house she and Beth had looked at. It was her money – her house – why couldn't he just butt out?
She didn't even look up as he sat down next to her. “You pissed?”
“Yeah, I'm pissed.” He was sitting too close, and she could feel the heat of his body next to hers. As she tried to shuffle away, he laid his hand on her thigh, preventing her from moving. She scowled. “I don't like being treated like a kid.”
“Then I suggest you stop acting like one.”
Oh really? He was really going to go there? “How am I acting like a kid, Deke?” She pushed his hand away and stood up. “Why should I compromise over this? I'm doing this for you, for fuck's sake. I don't want to live in the city, okay? I don't care that I can move straight into this house and the yard is big enough. Can you hear that fucking traffic? How am I supposed to paint? So what if the house I love needs some work. This is my home we're talking about here.”
