Chasing Down Changes (Moroad Motorcycle Club) (13 page)

Sheriff Colby broke eye contact. Jeremy held tight to Tiff and turned his attention to her. "Don't even think about throwing a fit right now."

"Jeremy, let's go inside and I'll explain what—"

"Not another word." Jeremy looked back at the sheriff. "If you don't open your mouth, you're going to find a bullet in your forehead."

Sheriff Colby stepped forward. "Is that a threat, Aldridge?"

"A two-second warning." Jeremy's position remained tight and in control. He'd dealt with badges and assholes for the last fifteen years. He never backed down.

"I'll put your ass back in prison where you belong." Sheriff Colby reached for his pistol.

Jeremy's arm flashed out, grabbing the sheriff by his neck. The sudden pressure on his throat kept him from pulling out his weapon.

"Jeremy, stop." Tiff pulled on his arm. "Colby's protecting me."

The sheriff's face turned red. Jeremy's grip remained tight. The urge to take the life of a man who believed he could step in during Jeremy's absence and take his woman radiated through him. No one would take his place. Tiff belonged to him. Only him. Since the day she sat on his bike and they'd skipped school, she became his property.

"Go inside," he said.

Tiff shook her head. "Let him go."

"Get the fuck inside," he said, lowering his voice. "Unless you want to be the cause of me splattering the sheriff's brain all over the fucking road."

Her brows pinched together. "Jeremy, give me—"

"Now." He pulled out his pistol and held it against Sheriff Colby's forehead.

Tiff gasped and backed away. He waited for the door to close and lowered the gun, letting go of the sheriff's neck.

Sheriff Colby pitched forward, catching himself with his hands on his knees, and coughed repeatedly. Jeremy widened his stance and waited him out, making sure his hands stayed away from the radio hooked to his shoulder. He had no idea how many within the sheriff's department were aware of the situation of Sheriff Colby turning a blind eye to Red Light.

While he waited, he tried to figure out how much more information his dad had kept from him and why. His frustration escalated over his lack of answers. He believed Tiff remained Moroad property during his absence. To only find out after his release, he was led to believe she lived a quiet life dancing for Silver Girls. Cam purposely mislead him. Jeremy should've been aware of her every move.

Only one man had the opportunity and the knowledge to keep him informed: Cam.

"I'll see you back in prison the next time you fuck up," Sheriff Colby said, sputtering for breath. "You won't make a step in this town without me watching you."

Jeremy slipped his pistol in the hidden pocket inside his vest. "I'm not afraid of going back inside, but you can bet I'll be taking you with me when I go. The boys inside the Cyclone fence don't like badges. I can't say your stay will bring you solitude and time to reflect on the crimes you committed."

The sheriff pushed off his knees until he stood straight and met Jeremy's eyes. "You don't deserve her."

"And, you think you do." Jeremy's lip curled, and he caught himself from showing any emotion.

"Hell, she's young enough to be my daughter." The sheriff rubbed at his neck, undoing the top button on his uniform. "We came to an understanding on her running Red Light."

Jeremy waited. The motherfucker would spill every detail or regret not talking.

"My dad was sheriff back when Federal ran six bordellos. Mining drove the economy. Everyone sat on a pile of riches. He kept the Feds at bay, and the town prospered." Sheriff Colby's hand shook. "Then the silver slacked off, people moved, and the prostitutes left. Pretty soon, there were only two houses open. I was a kid at the time, and I remember how the sheriff's office supported the businesses. I've got detailed records in the office and how each madam kept themselves and their women under the radar. Everything ran smoothly. The girls arrived in town and they came to the Sheriff's office first. Fingerprints were taken, background checks ran, and each name and identity kept on record."

"The badges worked under the table?" he asked.

Sheriff Colby shook his head. "Prostitution wasn't illegal in Federal until the raid happened in nineteen-eighty-nine. Prior to that, Madam Ginger owned Silver Girls. Her contributions to the town made up for the lack of taxes. She raised funds for the school football team, bought band uniforms, and donated money to social services. She kept Federal floating when people were hurting from lack of jobs. She had escaped with the girls before the Feds arrived. Afterward, the next owner tried to run Silver Girls without help from local law enforcement. By that time, prostitution was illegal. That ended with a double murder and closed the place down. That was Risa's mom who ended up in prison. She's married to Kurt, the president of Bantorus Motorcycle Club. Eventually, Risa bought Silver Girls and turned it into a legal adult entertainment business and stayed far away from selling girls."

"Now Tiff owns the place, and she's repeating history with the sheriff's help," Jeremy muttered.

Sheriff Colby nodded. "I'm the only one in the department that knows what happens upstairs in the Sterling Building."

"Why?"

The sheriff held his eyes, looking older and more tired than when he'd stepped out of his vehicle. "Because Tiff is smart. She doesn't make mistakes, and she's got a good head on her shoulders. The women respect her. The women who dance for her are not involved in any way with what she runs upstairs. Far as they know, she has boarders who demand their privacy and are running from abusive relationships. It's the perfect front."

"You've painted Tiff as an angel, huh?" he stated.

Sheriff Colby shrugged. "To me, she is."

Jeremy grunted.

"It's not how you're thinking. At one time, I loved her mom. I even thought I'd marry her, but she loved to drink and sleep around more than she wanted to be with me. She got pregnant and stayed sober until Tiff was around five years old. When I realized I never stood a chance winning her away from the bottle, I stuck around, because someone needed to take care of a little girl who did nothing to anyone, but feel the neglect from her mother." Sheriff Colby cleared his throat. "When Tiff came to me after buying the Sterling Building from Bantorus Motorcycle Club, she joked around about opening a bordello I backed her because someone needed to show they gave a damn about her. At the time, I would've handed over my badge to make her smile."

Jeremy's back stiffened. "Why wasn't she smiling?"

Sheriff Colby lowered his hand to his side. "Do you have to ask that question?"

He clenched his teeth and looked across the street. He'd gone to prison and left Tiff behind to deal with everything alone.

"I had her taken care of." Jeremy spit on the sidewalk.

She had money coming to her every month, so she had a roof over her head and could go to school. The club protected her. There was nothing she needed.

Pain flashed in Sheriff Colby's eyes, taking Jeremy by surprise. "Except you. I don't understand what she has for you, but I know what it's like to love someone who will never love you back. I tried to keep her from ever knowing that kind of pain. Tried to stop it, before it destroyed her the way it did her mother. Now you're back, and you're breaking her heart again."

Jeremy had suspected the sheriff worked with Tiff. He reached into his back pocket, even knowing there was no chew. Hell, he even assumed there was a payoff going on under the table. Instead, he got a history lesson on shit that he had no control over.

"I'm back and like it or not, I don't deal with badges, even when that badge is shady." Jeremy glanced back at the building before returning his gaze to the sheriff. "Tiff does a lot for Federal. Whatever goes through her head, she's got a good heart, unlike me. If you hurt her, I'll make you disappear."

"You realize I could put you away right now for the pistol you held, for threatening a law officer's life, and nail you for intent." Sheriff Colby's hands remained at his sides.

"You could, but you'd only be hurting Tiff," Jeremy said.

Sheriff Colby shook his head. "I'd be protecting her."

"I understand what you're doing." Jeremy ran his fingers through his beard. "I'm going to change that."

"I have no interest in protecting you or your club, Aldridge. You take over, and you're on your own. I'll be damn happy to call the Feds myself to stop you."

Jeremy folded his arms across his chest. "I have no plans to make Tiff stop her business or any interest in taking the business Red Light brings in away from her. You protect my woman and keep her from getting arrested, and I'll owe you. You want to be a part of her life and see her smiling again; you'll keep your hands off me."

Sheriff Colby walked off, striding down the sidewalk. He pivoted at the front door of the Sterling Building and returned to Jeremy. "I'm two years away from retiring."

"That must be nice." Jeremy gazed off at the Bitterroot Mountains. "I'd advise you that if you want to enjoy your golden years, you don't cross Moroad or me."

Sheriff Colby took the time to look off into the distance. Jeremy let the sheriff absorb the promise. The older man no longer ran Federal.

Jeremy refused to play by the rules. If his woman wanted to run an illegal prostitution in Federal, he'd make sure she stayed safe.

Sheriff Colby strolled away, slower and more defeated. Jeremy watched the sheriff get in his vehicle and pull away from the curb.

There were two more people he needed to set straight. The muscles in his back tensed. He walked to the front door of the Sterling Building and stepped inside, determined to make sure one of those two people understood him.

A loud bang echoed in his ears, shocking his whole body. He pulled his pistol from his pocket as he jerked his gaze straight ahead. At the same time a piece of wood chipped off the floor and bounced off his leg from the bullet landing a foot in front of him.

"Get out." Tiff held a pistol with both hands and faced him. "If I have to shoot again, I won't aim at the floor."

His troubles over the club, the sheriff's involvement, and the wall Tiff put up between them fled. He shoved his pistol back inside his vest. The control and power he'd worked his ass off for fifteen years flooded his body, strengthening him.

He was fucking invincible because he finally had his baby back. It took her long enough to emerge from the shell of a woman she'd become during his absence. He wasn't going anywhere.

T
iff's arms shook from the weight of the pistol, and she locked her elbows to keep the gun pointed at Jeremy. Except, her aim no longer focused on his chest and instead she barely kept the nozzle pointed at his knees.

"I swear to God." Tiff retreated, staying out of arm's length of Jeremy. "I'll shoot you."

"Then shoot me." He stalked forward.

His heavily lidded eyes bore down on her with an intensity and familiarity that took the fear dwelling inside of her and pissed her off. The ease of flipping emotions startled her. He took her back to a time she stood securely in front of him, strong and stubborn, willing to shoot him because he believed in her.

The overwhelming rush of gaining back the comfort and security she'd lost with Jeremy's imprisonment unleashed inside of her. She dropped the gun and covered her face with both hands, folding in half under the weight of her circumstances. She struggled to remain standing.

Jeremy's hands gripped her upper arms, lifting her. She cried out, beating her fists against his chest.

"Sh..." Jeremy held her securely.

"I hate you." Her palm hit the solid wall of his shoulder. "I hate you."

"I know." He fisted her hair, holding her against him. "Fuck, I know."

"Go away," she said, losing her voice.

"I'm not leaving."

"I hate you." She pushed, but he never budged. "Go to Lola. I don't want you."

"You want me."

She struggled, throwing her head, screaming out at the pain his hold on her hair caused. "Where's my pistol? I'm going to blow your fucking head off. I never want to see you again."

"Calm down." He lifted her feet off the ground.

The air left her lungs. She gasped on a half sob. Her chest hurt. Her heart screamed. Her body ached for him.

Pain consumed her at remembering the months she'd cried herself to sleep, the days she'd numbly walked through her routine, the hollow ache of loneliness she failed to concur or self-medicate. She never wanted to experience the pain of losing him again.

Her strength desperately lashed out. Instead of hitting, she grabbed. Her nails scraped the jean material of his vest, trying to gain traction to his skin. She forced her body against him, wrapping her legs around his hips, molding herself to him.

He cupped the back of her head, pressing her face into his shoulder. "Hang on, baby."

"Don't let me go," she whispered, squeezing her eyes tightly closed.

He tightened his embrace. "We're drawing a crowd."

She rubbed her face into the nook of his neck, hiding away her shame, her embarrassment, her breakdown. "Take me out of here."

Sirens filled the room. Jeremy back stiffened. She clung tighter, determined never to allow anyone to take him from her.

"We're going to step outside," he said.

"No." She raised her head and grabbed his beard. "You can't go out there. Go hide and stay inside. I'll go and explain what happened. I'll pretend you're not even here. I won't let them take you."

"Baby, you have business going on upstairs and—"

"Shit." She squirmed until he put her feet on the ground. "I left Marci upstairs. The men have been up there too long. There will be customers in the alley who heard the gunshot."

"I'll take—"

"No." She pressed her hand to her forehead and whirled around at the sound of Marci calling her name. "What?"

"I've brought two groups of men in since you left. The last ones just got settled in the room when we heard the cops. The women have them in the main kitchen sitting at the table, serving them coffee. I know we broke the rules, but I didn't want them to be caught in the rooms." Marci hurried to her and grasped her hands. "What's going on? We heard a gunshot."