Chasing Down Changes (Moroad Motorcycle Club) (18 page)

Tiff turned back to her friend. "He doesn't talk about his time in prison."

"None of them ever do." Desiree grabbed her hand. "Let's grab a beer and wait together for the men to finish their meeting."

At the picnic table, Tiff gazed around the area, searching all the faces attending tonight's gathering. One person's absence bothered her. She wanted to ask Desiree where Lola was but refused to look weak and concerned. She rather deal with Lola being here than wonder all night about what kept her away and if Jeremy had anything to do with her not attending.

Katie walked in front of Tiff's view, grabbed Johnson's ass in passing, and stepped over to the picnic table. Besides Desiree, Tiff missed Katie the most. Always ready to party and supportive no matter what drama was going on around her.

Tiff's partying days ended when she pulled away from Moroad. And Katie, she remained loyal to the bone and put Moroad MC first.

"I've seen Jeremy hanging around Silver Girls when we dance." Katie raised her brows. "Are you back with Moroad?"

Tiff nodded. "Jeremy and I worked things out. He's moved into the Sterling Building with me."

"About time," Katie muttered, moving around the table and threw herself at Tiff. "It sucked balls to keep our relationship strictly employee and employer."

Tiff kissed Katie's cheek. "I never stopped caring about you."

"I know, and I never stopped worrying about you." Katie stepped back and plucked a beer off the table. "I still wanted to punch you for leaving Moroad whenever I had to deal with you at Silver Girls. That kind of anger over so many years means you're going to have to treat me special for a while."

Tiff laughed. The ease at which they slipped right back into roles with Moroad and stuck together left her happy. "I'll get on that right away."

"Damn right, girlfriend. You can start with never coming to my room before ten o'clock. I get bags under my eyes on anything less than six hours of sleep." Katie lifted her beer and pointed at Desiree. "You can also start joining us on Wednesday night at Rail Point."

Desiree nudged Tiff with her elbow. "The guys play poker in the basement. All the women come over and keep me company upstairs. It's the only night the bar is closed and the workers aren't around."

"Sure, if Jeremy wants to go, I'll come." Tiff gazed out to the fire pit, her heart bursting at the sight of Jeremy standing beside Cam and talking with the men.

Out of her peripheral vision, she caught movement behind Jeremy. She stepped around Katie to get a better view and stopped, all the warmth left her body.

Lola moved up beside Jeremy and leaned against his arm. Jeremy glanced down at her and looped his arm behind Lola's back as he continued to talk with the men. Tiff folded her arms. Her heart raced, and she swayed off balance. She understood the rules of staying back while the men talked, and hated that she couldn't go over there and push Lola away.

"Anyone know what the meeting is about?" Desiree squinted at the intimate circle of men around the fire pit. "It looks serious."

"It is." Christina exhaled loudly. "The men will need you all more than ever afterward."

"Where's Lola?" Katie frowned. "She'll need to prepare the newer girls."

"She's already informed them to be ready." Christina lifted her chin. "Lola's with the men now."

Anger coiled inside of Tiff. She stood on the outside while Lola entered the meeting as if her place remained with the men. No amount of time, loyalty, or proof would ever afford her a place beside Jeremy. Not as long as everyone in the club viewed Lola as belonging to him.

She backed away and turned, needing to get away.

"Hey." Christina grabbed her arm. "What's wrong?"

Used to handling Jeremy on her own, she shook her head. "I made a mistake in coming. I need to go home."

"Wait a few minutes, and I'm sure Jeremy will have time to take you." Christina refused to let her go. "Do you want to sit down? I can grab you a beer."

"No." She glanced over her shoulder and found Jeremy staring at her, his concentration with the club broken and solely on her. "I can walk back to town. It's not far."

"Absolutely not." Christina turned her. "It's important that you stay. For Jeremy."

"I think he has someone already standing beside him," she said, biting the rest of what she thought about Lola off.

Heat warmed her back. She didn't need to turn around to know Jeremy was behind her. He seemed to have a habit of showing up when she started feeling like she wanted to shoot someone.

She turned around and gazed up into his face. "I'd like to go home."

"Not yet." He hooked her neck and brought her forward. "I need you beside me for the rest of the meeting. Afterward, I'll take you home."

She walked woodenly with him, keeping her gaze away from Lola, who strolled past to join the women. The ugly feeling of being second best filled her. She had no problem working her way into the club again and biding her time until everyone trusted her, but she damn sure wasn't going to watch Lola flaunt her relationship with Jeremy. Her bitterness escalated, and she stood beside Jeremy letting her anger build. He refused to tell her what made Lola privileged and held up on a pedestal.

"As you all know; Tiff belongs to me. I claimed her before I went to prison and even though she stepped away from the club, she's with me and will be treated as my property by each member." Jeremy sprawled his fingers against her back.

She wiped her face of any emotions and stared straight ahead, blind to the men, and concentrated on the women surrounding the picnic table. Later, she'd demand to know what was going on, and if he refused to give her the answers, he could take his pledge in front of his club and stick it up his ass.

"If everyone is done, I'll get to why I called the meeting tonight." Cam stepped out in front of Jeremy. "I'm sixty-five years old. I've been living outside the Cyclone fence for 18 years. In that time, I've contained Blues, Reds, and Los Li. Moroad's numbers have grown. Our power inside Prison has remained steady. We continue to gain from the extortion money. We've lost members to the system, to death, to living hard and playing harder."

The seriousness of Cam's speech grabbed her attention. She gazed up at Jeremy and found his eyes focused on his dad. The only sign of awareness that she questioned him was the strength in which his arm tightened around her.

"Jeremy has spent the last fifteen years in prison. He grew, gained respect, and became a leader on the inside with one purpose. Representing Moroad, he demanded loyalty and put fear into the other gangs, so that we could remain in control. Not once did he back away, but moved forward." Cam walked around the fire, looking at each member present. "I've watched over him, judged him, and tested him. He never once refused to put Moroad first and more often than not, he outsmarted me."

Tiff's tongue stuck to the top of her mouth. Jeremy hadn't said a word about his life in prison, and she was afraid to push, knowing the men disliked talking about their time spent incarcerated.

Cam stopped in front of Jeremy. "Because of his choice to commit murder to stay inside and work for Moroad..."

Blood rushed through her veins, roaring in her ears, blocking out Cam's voice. Tiff stared at Jeremy. No, Cam was lying.

Jeremy accidently killed a guard in self-defense. She'd heard rumors and stories about how hard the guards were on Moroad members. He was only supposed to get eighteen months for shooting a man in the foot. A guard attacked him on his way into court and ended up dead.

There was more to the story than Cam was telling everyone.

Jeremy needed to stand up and tell everyone how he had to fight back to stay alive. The guard wanted to kill him before he was sentenced. It was all an accident.

"I nominate Jeremy Aldridge for president of the Moroad Motorcycle Club with myself as acting vice president for one year in which time Gunner will step back in as V.P. Every member will vote. Only an anonymous count will make this a done deal," said Cam.

Jeremy held her beside him. She flinched at the changes flying at her fast, and he dragged her back, refusing to let her go. Her throat burned. While she understood Jeremy's hope to take over his father's role in the club, they were all wrong.

He wasn't a killer. It was an accident. A mistake. He was only supposed to be gone eighteen months. There was some mistake.

Bear spoke out.

Johnson spoke out.

Merk spoke out.

Tiff grabbed Jeremy's vest to make him put a stop to everyone talking. Even his uncle went against him. "Stop them," she whispered.

"You had your chance to turn me in when the deputy wanted to arrest me and put me away for life." Jeremy shifted her toward him and wrapped his arms around her, keeping her face away from the men. "You chose to keep me."

She pushed against him. "What have you done?" she whisper-hissed.

He kissed her forehead. "Just chasing down changes, baby."

A roar of shouts blasted the air. Jeremy's chest expanded, rock hard under her cheek. Her legs shook. Caught in a nightmare, any second she'd wake up and find herself in the bed, alone.

T
he vote to become president went exactly the way Jeremy planned. He stood in front of the open window in the suite and gazed out at the street lights. None of the men questioned his loyalty or doubted his ability to step into Cam's role. Eager to let him lead the club, the older members willingly took his back while the younger members stepped forward to offer their protection.

He'd spent time with most of his MC brothers inside the pen. Members came and went as their sentences ended, rarely spending time on the outside for long before they were back inside where they sought the rigorous rules and routine comforting. Prison was a young man's game, and his dad had earned his right to step down and enjoy the rest of his years with less threat aimed at his back.

In turn, Jeremy carried the target for the club and every member of Moroad.

The bathroom door opened, and Tiff walked out wearing a pair of skintight sweat pants and a huge sweatshirt. Her hair knotted behind her head and her face free of makeup, she took her snit to a new level. She gave him the cold shoulder and put her jewelry in the glass bowl on the nightstand.

He'd kept the reason for the meeting to himself because warning Tiff ahead of time would only set himself up to deal with her fighting him. She already knew he planned to take over for his dad. Her refusal to talk to him for the hour after the meeting or when they came back to the suite only reinforced his opinion that he'd done the right thing.

He understood her anger and confusion. Even in prison, he planned how the change would go down, how he'd handle Tiff, and how the new position would affect his life and in turn, Tiff's life.

The unknown worked to his advantage. He'd gone into what to do with Red Light, considering Tiff owned the company, the building, and the employees, with a clear head. He'd integrate Moroad more into the running of the business and provide protection for all. What he couldn't do was make a rash decision about how and why she involved the sheriff. To do his job, he needed to stay out of prison.

Tiff slipped under the covers, rolled to her side and left him three-quarters of the bed. He gave her no time to pretend she was asleep. Instead, he walked over to his side of the bed, leaned down, and shoved the whole fucking bed across the floor three feet, until her side of the bed hit the wall.

She shrieked. He stripped down, leaving his clothes on the floor, his pistol on the nightstand. Then he turned off the lamp and climbed into bed.

She scooted over, moving farther away from him until she lay against the wall. He shifted on the mattress and laid on his side, pressing his chest against her back, his thighs against the back of her legs.

"What are you doing?" she asked without emotion.

"Sleeping."

She sighed. "Why did you move the bed near the wall?"

"I need sleep, and I'm not going to let you leave the bed."

She lay stiff and silent. He closed his eyes and looped his arm around her waist and cupped her breast through the material of her sweatshirt. Time meant nothing to him. If she wanted to put off getting past what happened tonight, he'd be there tomorrow or next week.

Suddenly, her arms flapped, scrambling to turn herself. Her legs kicked out, trying to push him back. He reached down and cupped his balls against her wayward limbs.

"Get. Off. Me." She tried to push up onto her hands and knees, but he wrapped his arm around her neck and brought her back down, throwing his leg over her lower body. "Stop it. If you have enough energy to fuck again, I have no problem giving it to you." He lowered his lips to her ear. "You want to fight like a man. I'm game for that, too."

"You killed that guard in prison on purpose." She bucked her body, unable to get away from him. "You never even tried to get back to me."

"Calm the fuck down." He flipped her over until she was on her back and pinned her to the bed. "You want to talk, use your head. Don't fight me."

"I don't want to talk." She groaned, straining against his hold. "I want to punch you in the damn face. Turn on the light so that I can see where I'm hitting."

"No."

"Yes."

He kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She bit him. He jerked back. Once roused, only one thing settled her down.

Reaching down, he grabbed the elastic of her sweatpants and tugged. He had no problem doing her right.

She jackknifed. "Fine, I'll talk."

He grinned in the dark. "Then start."

"I hated you for going to prison."

"I know that." He widened her legs and settled between her thighs.

"All these years, I believed you'd killed the guard because he tried to beat you up or frame you for something." She inhaled swiftly. "I never thought you were at fault."

He rolled off of her and turned on the bedside lamp. During his sentence, he relied on no one. Whatever Cam learned about the incident that put a fifteen-year sentence on Jeremy's back never came from  him. He never voiced his plan or his intent to anyone prior to going to prison. No one sat in the court when the judge slapped him with his punishment, and he had no idea what Cam told Moroad.