Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Stay put. Do what I said on the sister, and start compiling ten guys to go with you.”
I amended my question. “I’ll make eleven. Stripes will be twelve.”
“That’ll keep you guys one below the local charter. You okay doing what you need to do on Gloves’ sister? Considering I know how tight you and he are, and if you liked her in school… Those feelings might still be there.”
I loved my club.
I’d joined after coming home from three tours overseas. I grew up in foster homes and had no family. Gloves had given me my first semblance of family. My unit gave me my second brothers. The club was my last family.
Prez was right about Kali. He was fucking smart, which made sense since he was nearing his sixties and ran the Red Demons the way he had. He was ruthless, but a mastermind. He was also the sniper in our group. He’d set up a mark and wait months, if he needed to, before he hit it.
Me? My job was to wade in like a ghost—get in the thick of it, get things done, but leave no trace. Both our roles were vital to the club, but right now, I was cursing the role he played, and I wasn’t much happier about mine. Still. For the club. That was our motto for a reason.
“I’ll handle her, but not in a way that’ll hurt her. I can’t do that, Prez. Not to Gloves. He doesn’t deserve that.”
I knew how he wanted things handled, and usually I was on board with it. Not this time. I was pushing back, and I rarely pushed back.
He sighed softly.
He was giving in. I could already hear it.
“You’re right,” he said. “Find a way to handle her, but do it right. I’m giving you free rein on this one. It’s your call.” After a pause he added, “It’s the least we can do for Gloves.”
The very least.
5
KALI
The first one approached me in the store as I was going over a list. I was by the ham.
Mr. Baldeaver gripped his basket with both hands. That first got my attention—that and the fact that his green cardigan sweater was the same kind my dad liked to wear in the evening. Mr. Baldeaver was in his eighties, and my dad was fifty-eight.
I was so going to use this to tease Dad. The cardigans were showing his age. We still couldn’t acknowledge the salt-and-pepper hair, but cardigans, oh yeah. I was going there.
“Kali.” Mr. Baldeaver adjusted his grip on the basket and looked down at the floor. To the ham. The other meat products. He checked out the freezer behind us.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s a man asking about you. He knows I taught you piano when you were young, and he found me at Martha’s Café this morning. You know me and the husbands all meet for coffee. It’s a gossip hour, but gives us a break. Most of the time we want to see who’s still alive. But anyway, he came up to me at the table. Randy and Freddie were there too, but they don’t know you as well as I do. I heard you moved back. I’ve not said anything. You like your privacy. But since I’m approaching you now, I figure it’s the right time to let you know your ex was a fool. He’ll realize it too, and be coming back. Don’t let him back in. You got a better one coming. I know it. Anyway, I thought you should know because I don’t know what this man’s intentions are toward you.”
My heart melted and twisted all at the same time.
I’d hated taking piano lessons, but now that I was older, I could look back on those days fondly.
Also, Mr. Baldeaver always kept candy in a bowl, and I really loved the little gummy bears he kept stocked. I knew he did it for me because none of his other students liked them.
“What did he ask?”
“Just about you. What you were like when you were younger. There wasn’t much to the questions. Felt like he was scoping out how folk around here feel about you. I set him straight on that. Said you were the second-best student I ever had, and anything else was none of his business.”
My heart melted and squished all over again.
“What’d he look like?”
“Tall, tattoos. He came in from a motorcycle.”
My stomach sank all the way to my toes with a hard thud. Shane King. If it wasn’t him, it was someone acting on behalf of him.
Seriously?
Why was he asking around about me?
Mr. Baldeaver seemed like he might keel over. He kept readjusting his hold on that basket, but his chin was up, almost defiant.
I nodded. “Thank you for letting me know. I know who it was. I’ll take care of it.”
“I need to ask and I’m not meaning this in an intrusive way, but in a way where if you need something, you know I’d give you anything you needed. If I didn’t, the Missus would come out of her grave to lecture me so with that said,” he took a big breath. “Are you in trouble? I’m sorry. It’s not my place, but I know the crowd your mom’s bar serves, and your sister, well… And your ex-husband. I just—my Melanie adored you.”