Caught in the Devil's Sheets (5 page)

BOOK: Caught in the Devil's Sheets
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We are only a couple hours away when the weather finally clears up a little and Odin dozes off. He clearly has a hard time trusting my driving capabilities.

It’s not quite noon when I pull up to the gate. There are two German Shepherds that I recognize staring at me as I put in the passcode. The gate opens and the dogs run back toward the house ahead of me. The driveway is long and rocky, and Odin stirs awake as we make our way through the trees and up to the house. David is outside shifting the trash barrels around when I pull in. As soon as I get out of the Tahoe, the dogs jump all over me. I’ve been here close to 20 times. David and Mark have become good friends to Jaime and I.

“Down dogs!” David yells and pushes the last can into place. He waves as he makes his way over to us, but I can tell he is eying Odin as he greets me with a hug. I would have thought Jaime would have told him Odin would be traveling with me for the time being, but it’s obvious that he hasn’t. Since Odin isn’t wearing his Bandits cut, I’m sure he seems suspicious to David.

“Jaime got himself into some trouble back home. Odin is my ride along till it all gets sorted out,” I explain and introduce the two of them.

David doesn’t seem too amused about Odin being the newcomer. Odin doesn’t seem to notice or care. David helps us bring the luggage into the house, where Mark is sitting in front of a large TV, way too luxurious to be sitting in this wreck. He is watching some Japanese cartoon and he stands to hug me.

“Hey!” he greets me with his big, gleaming smile.

I introduce him to Odin and we all sit on the couch for a while as David and Mark both make a few calls. Mark and David used to both be married men, but apparently their wives were both cheating whores, which brought them together in this huge, yet always messy house. Eventually I load all my things into Mark’s daughter’s bedroom, and Odin is shown to the bunk beds in the boy’s room.

Not more than an hour or so after we arrive a few people show up to buy our stuff, mostly people we have met before, friends of David and Mark. We are weighing out bags of green and white and before I know it, it’s dusk. A few people have stayed behind and it turns out to be a small get together. Odin turns in early, but I stay up to hang out with Mark and David and their company. We sit up, hanging out and listening to Sublime until there is a haze of pot smoke in the air that’s so thick it affects the lighting. I decide to turn in around midnight. I pull my phone out to charge it and realize I have a missed call from Jaime. Its only 11 at home and I try to call him back, but I get his voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. Just checking in, kind of late I know. Anyways we made it here safe. David and Mark say hello. David doesn’t seem to like the new guy. I will call you tomorrow. Love you.” I realize as I say the words that it’s more routine then genuine feeling, especially in light of the situation the way I left it.

The next morning I head to the kitchen. Odin has helped himself to making a fresh pot of coffee. David and Mark are still sleeping. They tend to sleep like zombies if you let them, so I decide to make a ruckus in the kitchen. I grab the eggs and some ham out of the fridge, making myself right at home. Maybe it’s the smell of breakfast rather than the noise that wakes the sleeping beast. David joins us at the table, and he is already on his phone.

By the end of the day we have luggage full of money and no drugs. It’s a good feeling knowing that in the morning, the hot bags won’t be hot.

The next morning, Odin is already up loading bags into the car, and he lifts mine onto the top of the pile for me. I go back inside to leave a note.

 

David, thanks for hosting, see you next time.

 

-Lila

 

I leave the note with $1,000 before Odin and I head back toward California on I-90. The ride starts off quiet. Odin is playing on his phone while I drive. I cast a glance at him and the reality of how sexy he is seeds into my head unbidden. He has a very square jaw that has started to sprout stubble. He turns and gives me a “what’s up” look, raising his chin at me. I look back out on the road and Odin goes back to messing with his phone.

Around 1:00pm, we stop for gas in Utah and I try calling Jaime again, but there is still no answer. This time I don’t leave a message.

“Have you heard any news from home?” I ask Odin. If Jaime isn’t answering because he’s doing club business, there’s a chance Odin knows about it.

“Nope.” Odin shakes his head.

Then we are back on the road again. It all starts to look the same after a while. Mountains, flats, desert, corn, forest, repeat. Traffic, road signs, mile markers, street lights, repeat. How the hell do truckers do this all the time? I feel like I’m going nuts as the wheels on the car go round.

Odin has dozed off in the passenger seat and I keep wondering about what’s going on back home. I think about the way I left things with Jaime again, and how little I want to go back home into that same situation. I wonder if the letter I have been hoping for is in the PO Box. Sadness rushes through my heart as I begin to realize it may never come.

Dusk falls and country is still playing on the radio when Odin wakes up. “Pull over, I will drive,” he says after he’s shaken the sleep from his eyes.

“Rest stop in 15 miles.” I have been counting the mile markers since the sign. I really need to pee.

“Got a perfectly good bumper back there!” he mocks me.

“With a perfectly good bathroom only 15 miles up the road, I can hold it!” I say, winking at him.

We talk for hours about nothing in particular. The more time I spend with Odin the more I like him. He is funny, and he doesn’t sugarcoat shit, he says it like it is. Like I do. We talk a little more about his whips and chains fetish, which reminds me how long it has been since I had good sex.

We pass through Vegas around 5am, and the whole town is lit up.

“Wanna stop for fun?” he asks.

I’m flattered that he’s trying to make up for Jaime not being here. It’s really sweet of him, but in a way, I feel like he is just taking pity on me. It’s 5am and I’m wilting like a flower, starting to yearn for my bed.

“Maybe next time,” I say, leaving it open.

“Can’t say I didn’t offer,” he says with a big silly grin on his face.

As mad as I want to be with Jaime for not being here, Odin is making it more than bearable. I’m happy to keep doing this with him. I doze off a little as we make our way back toward Santa Monica. He pulls up to the club house and we get out and pull out all the bags.

“Want to come in for a drink?” he offers while we switch places in the car. I assume he means coffee at this hour.

“Nah, I’m gonna get steppin’. I am long overdue for a shower,” I admit.

Odin nods, takes all the bags out of the Tahoe, and heads for the door. I wait in the driver seat until he is safely inside the club house. I’m in a daze as I routinely trade the Tahoe back for my Mustang and load my luggage into my trunk.

When I get home, Erica and Jaime are both gone, and I assume there was a party somewhere last night and that’s where they have most likely crashed. I take a hot shower then wrap myself in my robe. I plug my phone into the charger before falling into my big empty bed.

Devil’s Cut

Odin brings the luggage into the club house. As soon as he walks in he can tell he missed a party last night. Guys are sprawled out all over the place. On the bar, the pool table, the floor.
Guess I won’t be crashing here after all
. He pulls his phone out from his pocket and calls Samantha who answers before the end of the second ring.

“Hello, Sir,” she says in a professional voice.

“Pick me up at the club house.” he says.

“Be right there, Sir.” This time she says the word Sir with a sexy undertone that makes Odin smile.

He hangs up and makes his way into the kitchen for something to drink while he waits. In the entryway to the backroom he finds Jaime, sprawled out on a love seat with some random girl he doesn’t recognize. Random Girl is a blonde and is only wearing a skirt and a bra. Jaime is also missing his shirt and his jeans are unbuttoned. He has his head lying on her tits and her legs are kicked up over his lap, in a position only a drunk person could fall asleep in.

Odin is outraged.
Jaime is here getting it on with some chick while Lila is out on the road. Jaime really isn’t the man he used to be!
Odin pulls his phone from his pocket again and snaps a picture, with no real plan of what he’ll do with it.

In the kitchen, he throws back a quick glass of orange juice while examining the picture he took and decides to just save it for now. After rinsing the glass out in the sink he grabs his personal bags and waits outside. It’s warming up to be a nice day. He pulls out his phone, examining the picture he just took again.

Lila is a cool chick, and the fact that she’s willing to pull her and Jaime’s weight, proves she’s tough. She shouldn’t have to deal with Jaime’s bullshit after a long weekend on the road. She deserves someone who is as faithful and committed as she is.

Samantha pulls up and Odin throws his bags into her car, piling in the front seat.

“My house,” he orders, and Samantha pulls away from the curb heading that way. Samantha is a good sub. She’s not chatty, she doesn’t ask any questions, and she follows orders well. Not to mention, she takes it like a champ. So far nothing has proven to be too much for her.

Odin reaches a hand over and rests it on her thigh. She casts a devilish grin at him that stirs his arousal. She pulls up his street and into his driveway.

“Shall I come in?” she asks, hopeful.

“I think I could use a shower and a shave,” he says carefully running his fingers through his stubble. Samantha follows him in.

Chapter 4
Legal Matters

*           *           *

I awake from a long nap around 4pm. Jaime and Erica still aren’t back yet. I start to unpack my suitcases, tossing my dirty clothes in the hamper that is overflowing. I haul it to the garage and start loading it into the washer. A gray wife beater with numerous blood stains on it catches my attention. It could be nothing, but I bring it to the back porch and use it to start a fire in the burn pit. It’s not till I smoke a bowl that I realize how hungry I am. Using the Domino’s app on my phone I order two large pizzas and some wings, assuming Jaime will be home eventually.

Erica comes home with the kids around 7.

“Have you seen Jaime?” I ask her taking a seat next to Chase at the dining table.

“Not since last night. There was a party at the club house,” she says and there is a huge smile pasted on her face.

“You stay all night?” I ask.

“Yeah. I hooked up with Jeff last night!” she says and she is too excited. I’m glad for Chase’s sake that he is too young to understand the term ‘hooking up’.

“How was that?” I ask, knowing she won’t get to into it with Chase sitting there, and I won’t actually have to hear all the details.

“Awesome! We spent the night together,” she says and I have a feeling she’s more into it then Jeff is.

“You really like Jeff?” I ask. I have a hard time believing it myself. I think she just wants attention, and a man.

“Yeah. We have been hanging out a lot since I’ve been here and he’s really sweet.”

This is news to me, although I’m not home that much.

“Well good!” I say smiling.
Good luck with that
, I think. It would be nice for Erica if this worked out, although now that I know Jeff is in the ring of members using coke, I am worried for her and the kids. If I know Erica, they’ll hook up again, and then she will cause some kind of drama and expect everyone to take her side.

Erica gets up from the table and takes Chase to the sink to wash up. I head into the garage and trade out the laundry, taking what’s fresh from the dryer into the bedroom to fold. I check my phone that’s still on the charger and there are no messages.

{Hey, I ordered pizza, you gonna be home soon?}-Lila. I text Jaime.

There is no immediate response as I fold clothes and lay them in piles on the bed. I head out to the living room and Erica is nursing Jemma on the couch while watching Law and Order SVU. Chase is sitting at the coffee table coloring and I sit down and join them.

Minutes later I hear Jaime’s truck pull up the driveway. It’s difficult not to hound him for answers as to where he’s been, and who he’s been with and why he didn’t text me back, and what the hell the bloody tank top was about, as soon as he walks through the door. I follow him into the kitchen, wishing I had done more to clean it up earlier. Jaime puts a few pieces of pizza on a plate and sticks it in the microwave.

“What’s up?” he asks as I take a seat at the table.

“What’s up with you?” I ask, and the dance on egg shells for information begins.

“Had some business at the big house,” he says, and I know that I can’t ask for any further details.

“Everything okay?”

“We got some business to take care of over the weekend,” he says casually, pulling his plate from the microwave and sitting across from me. Jaime has a classic bad boy look about him. Tattoos hanging out all sides of his black tank top. He sinks his teeth into the steaming hot first bite, chewing it while sucking in air to cool his mouth.

“I got some laundry going,” I say hoping he’ll remember dumping the bloody shirt in there.

“Cool.” Not the response I’m looking for.

“I found a pretty beat up shirt in there,” I say trying to jog his memory.

“It’s mine,” he says and I know he is referring to the blood not the shirt. Although he doesn’t have any obvious cuts or bruises.

“I wasn’t sure so I went ahead and got rid of it,” I say casting a glance toward the backyard.

“Good call.” Jaime smiles at me, and reaches a hand across the table, stroking my cheek. “How’d I get so lucky?”

I roll my eyes at him, and we talk about my trip while he finishes eating. I clear his plate for him.

“I have to meet with James tomorrow,” he says while I’m standing at the sink. James Devine is our lawyer. I always get nervous when we meet with him. I’m always afraid there’s going to be bad news about Jaime going to jail.

“What time?” I ask turning around and leaning against the sink.

“I told him you’d call him in the morning to set that up,” he says standing up and getting a beer out of the fridge.

“You got anything else going on tomorrow?”

“Got a run in the morning, but I should be home before noon.” He cracks the top off his beer and chugs the first half down in a few large gulps.

I begin to make my way out to the garage to resume the laundry and he stops me. Pulling me into his arms, Jaime lays a beer-soaked kiss on my cheek.

“I love you,” he says and his big, green, puppy-dog eyes knead at the soft spot I have for him in my heart. Jaime’s eyes are the only sweet part of him. The rest of his body is pierced up, covered in tats and tough looking. But there is softness in his eyes, especially when he looks at me this way that always manages to pull on my heart. Unfortunately I’ve seen a good amount of evil in these same eyes.

I plant another kiss on his lips and then take the beer from his hand. I drink down another quarter of the bottle and then hand it back to him. He releases me and I make my way into the garage and finish up the laundry for tonight. I head into our room to put all the piles away.

Jaime jumps in the shower. When he emerges, a cloud of steam follows. He is wrapped in a towel, and I’m lying on the bed in my pajamas.

“You wanna take those off?” he asks raising his eyebrows at me.

I shuffle out of my pajamas and climb under the covers, lifting the sheets for him. He drops his towel and climbs into bed.

I feel him get out of bed early in the morning. The sun is barely up. Before he heads out he kisses my forehead. It’s been a long time since I remember him doing that. Then, I fall back asleep for a few more hours.

When I awake, I call James Devine to set up an appointment. He answers and we schedule a meet for 2:30 this afternoon. He doesn’t say anything else, and I suppose no news is good news, but I can’t help but worry. I text Jaime the meet time.

About noon exactly, Jaime comes home and I immediately notice a huge gash on his eyebrow.

“What happened to you?” I ask as he stalks through the kitchen.

“Nothing,” he says shortly. “I’m going to get cleaned up.” He makes his way down the hall to our bedroom. Okay then.

I make myself busy in the kitchen, doing the dishes and clearing the table until it’s time to leave. Jaime comes out of our room, freshly shaved and in a crisp pair of Levi’s and a black button-up shirt. The gash above his forehead puts a ding in his otherwise very professional appearance.

“Ready?” he asks, and I can tell he is nervous too.

I grab my keys from the hanger and we head out to my car. “Have a good run this morning?” I ask once he’s settled in.

“Always,” he says, and a boyish grin takes his face. Oh brother!

I pull into the business center a bit early. Jaime and I make our way into the building and take the elevator up to James’s office. We’re greeted by his receptionist who notifies him that we are here.

In a few minutes James comes out and greets us. He holds the door to his private office open and Jaime and I take the two seats facing his desk. James maneuvers around the desk and takes a seat straightening his tie and shuffling around some paperwork. I can’t fight my anxious feelings.

“So, as you both know, we’re taking this case to trial. I will be choosing a jury next week. The prosecutor hasn’t finished putting together the full case against you, but from what they have shown me thus far, it’s going to be hard to fight the possession and assault charges.”

My heart constricts as I hear him say this.

“But, I am confident that we can beat the intent to sell charge, and after we show a jury the pictures of you sister, I feel we’ll be able to get a short sentence, if not probation, for the assault on Mr. Harrison,” James finishes speaking and looks at us to see if we have any questions.

“What’s the worst case scenario?” I ask, scared to hear the answer.

James clears his throat. “Well, worst case scenario is he is found guilty of all charges, in which the maximum sentence could be up to 10 years. With California’s half time sentencing, he’d serve five.” Before he has a chance to finish, I have an overwhelming anxious feeling. James puts a hand up. “But like I said, I am fairly confident we’ll get the intent to sell charge dropped before we even go to trial, which brings the max sentence down to 6 years of which he would serve three. However it’s highly unlikely with Jaime’s small record that they would give him the max sentence. I think that after the jury hears…” He pauses, looking through his paperwork for a name. “Erica’s testimony and after we review Mr. Harrison’s extensive record, the judge most likely won’t sentence Jaime to more than a year, of which he will serve 6 months.”

Even 6 months seems like way too long, but I guess compared to 10 years, it would be a blessing.

“What are the chances I will just get probation?” Jaime asks, shifting in is chair.

“Well, it’s possible. In fact I wanted to talk to you about agreeing to put yourself into drug counseling classes. If the judge thinks you are a recovering addict and you agree to get help on the court’s terms, it may help you avoid jail time.”

Jaime sighs and rolls his eyes at the thought of having to go through any kind of rehab. I can’t imagine any kind of drug rehabilitation is worse the jail.

James shuffles some more papers around on the desk before resuming his counsel. “Right, now the trial is set to start on Monday, May 5
th
, unless the prosecutor requests an extension, in which we can use that to our advantage. The D.A. is looking to file felony charges for cocaine and a misdemeanor for the pot if they can’t prove intent to sell. While you’re here, I want to talk to you briefly about the trial proceedings.” James goes over all the technical stuff, most of which I don’t understand. “We have agreed to plead guilty to the possession of cocaine charge.” James stops to look at Jaime who nods in agreement.

Next, James pushes a small packet of paper in his direction. “I’ll need you to sign here then,” he says using his pen to point to the signature line. “I will go ahead and file this today,” he says as Jaime signs the disclosure. I take a deep breath before James continues.

Jaime and I both nod in understanding as we take in all the information. James clears his throat again. “As far as court goes, obviously we want to look as professional and nonthreatening as possible,” he says, looking directly at the gash above Jaime’s left eye.

“Of course. I don’t want to go in there looking like a thug,” Jaime says, smiling.

“Exactly. We want the jury to know that you are a nice guy, who just cares a lot about your baby sister, as any good brother would. As far as the drug charges go, you are a recovering cocaine addict. We wouldn’t want them to think you’re a short-tempered biker who thinks he is above the law,” James says, hitting the nail on the head, and we all laugh because we know that’s exactly what Jaime is! “Well that about sums it up for now then,” James concludes, standing up. He reaches his hand out to shake Jaime’s and then mine. “We’ll be in touch,” he finishes dryly, and then shows us out of the office.

“Thank you,” I say politely.

“Yeah, thanks,” Jaime says remembering his manners.

James nods and smiles, returning to his office.

I pay our current bill with the receptionist before Jaime and I head back down to the car. “Wanna get lunch?” I ask before deciding which way to turn out of the parking lot.

“Nah, I’m not really hungry,” he says, and neither am I. In fact, my stomach is still in knots. Jaime folds his new papers and puts them in my glove box. “Wanna go to the club house for a bit?”

“Sure,” I say heading in that direction. Some familiar company might lighten our mood.

The windows of the club are painted black. It always looks closed, and to the public it always is. I park with the other vehicles out back and we head in.

Cole and Keila are sitting at the bar with Odin, and they greet us over the loud speaker. A few of the guys are sitting around a table playing cards. They, too, raise their voices at us when we walk by. I can tell there was a party here last night. Nicky and Cassy, Cole’s sister, are still cleaning the place up. Nicky comes around the bar as me and Jaime take a stool. A lot of girls with friends and family in the club wind up working in here.

“What can I get you guys?” Nicky asks tucking her rag into her jeans pocket and washing her hands.

“Bud,” says Jaime

“I’ll take a margarita, extra salt.” As they say, it’s five o’clock somewhere.

“Coming up,” she says as she takes a beer from the cooler and cracks the top. She hands it to Jaime and he makes his way over to the card table, leaving me at the bar with Odin as Cole and Keila start a game of pool.

“How’s it going?” Odin asks coolly. There is an empty stool between us and I rest my feet up on it.

“It’s going,” I project the best smile I can force, and I take a few big sips of margarita. “What’s new with you?”

“Just taking a break after our run this morning,” he says with the same boyish grin as Jaime.

“Sometimes I wish I had been born a boy so I’d have the privilege of being part of you all’s fun,” I say jokingly. In some ways it’s the truth.

“What? Jaime won’t let you ride along?” Odin says with a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah, right.”

“Well, he lets you run drugs cross country with him,” he says more seriously.

I have no idea what to say, so I return my lips to my straw and sip down the rest of my drink.

The doors to the safe room open, and Jack and Felix come walking out into the bar. Jack makes his way to the card table, and Felix takes the seat between Odin and me. He waits till Nicky has walked away before talking.

BOOK: Caught in the Devil's Sheets
9.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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