Wed to the Bad Boy (35 page)

Chapter 10

Layla

I loved the way I felt on the back of his bike.  Like I was flying down the highway with nothing to save me should I fall.  And part of me, a little part of me, wanted just that.  To fall, to fly.  But the rest of me was sane, and it knew the consequences.  So I held on tight, excited by the very dangerous line I was walking.

I guessed that was why so many men rode these things, from middle-aged weekend warriors to the kind who rode twenty-four-seven.  Rain or shine, or even in snow.  Men like Cullen, who made riding on the edge a permanent part of their life.

It was addictive, like any other drug that left me wildly spinning.  Except this one was addictive because it gave some semblance of control.  I could make the decisions, I could determine my speed.  I was the creator of my own destiny.

Most of us, we had no control before we could drive.  Nothing we did was because we wanted to.  It was because we had to.  Because we were forced to.

All our choices, from where we could afford to live, to where we could eat, it was limited.  But when we were on the back of a bike, we were just the opposite.

Free.

I knew why Cullen and Sean chose this life, but I also knew it was going to be their death.  Eventually.

Sean’s just came a whole lot sooner than I ever thought it would.

I clutched Cullen tighter, feeling him against me, the cold wrapping around us in the form of wind as I pressed my cheek to his back.

I was going to do this.  I was going to immerse myself in his world.  I needed to.  I needed the closure, the understanding.  I needed to become part of the monster that scared me for so long.

My ass was numb under the rumble of the motorcycle, the vibration shaking my entire core.  It had been a couple of hours now, and I was really starting to feel it.  I wanted to off of there and stretch my legs, hell, I wanted to get off and run.  What was I thinking, agreeing to talk to freaking heroin suppliers? It was crazy.

But it was the only thing I could think to do to help the club.

We had to be getting close now, so I tried to remember what Cullen told me.

Don’t talk unless someone asks you a question.  Don’t flirt, but be polite.  Don’t give away too much about your skills, but show you are confident.

It was a trap, and I was the bait.  A toy. 

I was there to turn the supplier’s head and I knew it.  Hell, I was the one who agreed to it.  I ran the numbers, more capable than even Snake’s accountant (who had no degree, and learned how to do figures in the back of a bar). 

It was a way in.  I wanted to know exactly what was going on at all times.  If Cullen wouldn’t tell me, I would find out for myself.  I was always the more stubborn one.  Even Sean knew that.  No one could keep me from getting what I wanted.

I found a way.

This MC shit.  I hated it.  Yeah, I was in now, but that didn’t mean I was okay with the shit that went on.  After that last “incident” at the garage I was even more scared.

This shit turned my stomach, but my options were limited.  Stay, turn a blind eye, and hope for the best, or stick my fucking nose in it and try to manipulate whatever outcome I could.

I was as good at manipulation as I was stubborn.  It was what got me through college, what got me through life. 

I needed to know exactly what kind of danger we were facing.  Who the monster was that killed my brother, and what we planned to do about it.

We were all monsters, in the end.  I wasn’t going to deny that.

Right now, the biggest monster I was facing was Snake.  He was smart, accomplished, and a true gangster.  Not the playboy types I saw on TV, but the real thing.  I knew he was more dangerous than any other man in this life simply because of his age.  No one gets to live to be in their sixties in a club like his, not unless he was faster than everyone else, and crueler.  

That you are afraid of if you are smart, and if you are a genius, you stay the hell away from.

Guess I was just smart.

I didn’t want to disappoint him.  Uncle Mick told me as much.  So when we hopped off our bikes and started walking toward the broken down warehouse, I straightened my shoulders and kept my cool.

He wanted me there to run the numbers.  Tempt the men.  I was a fancy parlor trick and I knew it.

Men liked to see animals in cages, see them do tricks.  Make no mistake, that was what I was, who I was, and exactly what I was capable of.

It wasn’t pretty, but it was the truth.  I respected the truth.

“Remember what we talked about.” Cullen looked into my eyes, trying to get my full attention.  “You stay.  Stay near me.  Don’t—”

“Talk unless I am asked.  I got it.”

He frowned.  I’d already broken that rule.  I wouldn’t do it with anyone else, but for him… Well, I was never going to do exactly what he wanted.

“Remember.  Stay focused.” He shifted, wrapping his arm around me.

Bones should’ve been here.  Not just Cullen.  It felt like we were more vulnerable without our prez, but he was back dealing with funeral arrangements.

This shit was real.  Two funerals in a month, and none of them from natural causes.  This was the shit I was getting into.

Part of me wanted to turn tail and run all the way back to Chicago, beg Aunt Megan to let me back in, and hide in my broom closet of a room for the next ten years.

Maybe then it would be safe to come out.

“Yo, looking for Strike.” Snake pounded on the rusted metal of the garage bay door.

It had to have been an old warehouse.  Something like that.  Because the sign on the door said “O’Grady Fruit and Vegetable Delivery.” The last few letters were faded, rust on the edges of the sign that barely hung on.

The door opened, three men on the other side, their eyes squinting as they looked out into the morning sun.

It was just past dawn, but it was gorgeous as the sun glittered over the dew that had been spread over the landscape.  Falling on the pieces of metal in the lawn, the grass, and even a small sheen of it on the broken, cracked pavement.

Those three men looked us over.

“I see you brought one of your whores.  What, thought you could trade?” The biggest guy chuckled as his eyes landed on me.

I bit back an insult of my own about his big potbelly, but Cullen was the one who spoke first.

“Watch it.  This is our accountant.  Her talent is worth more than your muscle.” He glared, but Snake backed him up.

“Don’t fuck around with our numbers girl, got it?” He looked them over.  “Where’s Strike?”

“Hey, Clown, go get Strike.  Got us some visitors.” The big guy spit into a pile of metal dust and then looked up at me, his eyes blazing.

It sent chills down my spine, but Cullen just pulled me closer to him.

“Morning, gentlemen,” a voice boomed, bouncing off of the metal walls.  It sounded like an older man, so when I looked up, I was surprised to see a guy barely in his thirties looking down at us.

He was a handsome man, thin and lithe, Irish, with his hair slicked back, a handsome pair of jeans, and an expensive—and tight—black shirt over his body.

He was well-muscled, and you could tell he’d earned his name.

“Strike.” Snake reached out and shook his hand, as businessmen do.  “See you got a new group of goons.”

“Been a while, huh? Yeah, these clowns come in handy, though.”  Strike acknowledged all of them, and then stopped and looked at me.  “I heard about your brother.  I’m sorry.  My father attended his funeral, but I was unable to make it.”

I was confused.  They clearly had some knowledge of each other, but I didn’t have the slightest idea who he was.

“Hear you got a proposition for me, Joseph?” he asked Snake, crossing his arms.

“I do.  You’ve got supply.  I’ve been getting into the game, slowly, through some of my extended family.  I need a greater volume.  Want to cut out the competition.  You supply the competition.  See where I am going with this?” He continued, “Fire and Steel are friends of ours and we respect the Serpents, but this is business, you understand, I hope.”

“I do.  But I have a good relationship with them.  They pay.  They pay on time.  I haven’t had to worry about any kind of shit warring, and I don’t know that I am inclined to change that.”

It was part of the bargaining process.  I could tell that.  He was interested, he looked it.

Men were always interested when there was more money to be earned.

“What about a higher supply to my people? More cash in your pockets, steady stock I have a bigger territory.”

“I think I could get more supply.  But why not sell to you both?”

“I’ll pay for the exclusivity.” He was serious.  He wanted this trade.  Not because he gave a shit about the other gang, but because he cared that much about profit.

“What kind of numbers are we talking?” Strike asked.

“Well, it depends on your supply, but we ran up the numbers with a fraction of what we are hoping to get.  Lala?”

I nodded, and reached into my bag, pulling out a spreadsheet.

We didn’t know for sure how much they were supplying to Hound’s Breath, but we gave it a rough estimate, and I ran the numbers after I knew what Snake was looking to pay.

“You did this?” Strike looked right at me, and I nodded.  “It’s good.  How long did it take you to run these numbers?”

“Last night.”

“That’s fast.” His smile was slow and deliberate.

“If you are willing to sell to us at your current rate, we would be willing, and more than able, to pay a 5% exclusivity fee.  But if you give us that plus another half of that, you’ll end up handsomely flush,” I explained.  It was all laid out.  Snake had the cash, he had the investments, and he was looking to spend.

“Jesus, this is what you think we give them? We give them about half of that supply.”

“Well, that’s the supply I need.  For starters.” I felt bold.

We’d overestimated the cost just a little bit, and we knew it, but they didn’t know we knew it.

It was a much better profit than they were already making, and I could tell by the look in Strike’s eyes that he was happy.  More money, more product pushed.  A good deal.

Snake also knew that for the quality of heroin, and the quantity, it was a good price.  A little less than he was already paying for a worse cut of the shit.

“This shit, it’s pretty damn pure.  It needs to be cut-“ Strike started.  The deal was almost set.  He was looking into my eyes, not Snake’s.  Searching me.

When I started talking, he started noticing me, and Snake was right.

He did like a curvy woman.  So I smiled at him and batted my pretty little eyelashes.  Flirting with no words.

I could almost feel the heat coming off Cullen.  He knew what had to happen, but he didn’t like it.

“Tell you what.   I like the numbers, but let’s forget the 5% fee on the first three shipments and I’ll just make use of your accountant.”

I swallowed.

This was not part of the deal.

“What kind of use?” Snake asked.  He was seriously considering.

“Nothing lewd, I assure you.  I need a good accountant.  And these are easy numbers, but they are profitable.  I’ve got another warehouse, but it actually runs a legitimate business.  A delivery service.  You let me use her, let me pay her, and have her help me shift funds and hide some of my money, and I’ll do you that deal.”

Snake was considering it, but it wasn’t his decision.  I looked back at Cullen, incredulous.  Fuck.  This was not what we had meant to happen at all.  How was I even going to get out from under this deal? There was no way.

I was a pawn, but I thought I was just bait.  Was this what Snake had planned all along?

“No,” Cullen finally said.  “She’s far too important to do that.”

“10K.  Payment.  For her.  Her fee.  What do you say, Lala?” He stretched my name out into the two syllables.

“Layla.” I said, and then I did something I shouldn’t have.  I nodded.  “It sounds like a good deal.  Especially if it smooths over Snake and Rage’s part of the bargain.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and tried to keep from screaming.

I knew what I was getting into, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.  Or easy.

“Fine.  Then we send two prospects with her.  They guard her when she is here.  You got it? And when she is done with the job, she is done.  You understand? She is not your permanent employee.”

“We only need her for a month or two.  To do a forensic investigation, and then hide any shit she finds that sticks out.” Strike nodded, clearly happy with the agreement.  “Besides, you know I’m good for it.  My dad would personally kill me if anything happened to his friend’s daughter.”

Who was his father?

“One month.  No more,” Snake added, taking control of the situation.

“I do believe, Joseph, that we have us a deal.” The two men shook hands on it, and I closed my eyes, realized what I’d just done.