Reprise (19 page)

“Returning it for a friend. Moved his woman to San Francisco. He’s staying the weekend. I think they’re gonna break up.”

“He got a name?”

“Yes, sir. Gerard Phillips.” He stifled the laugh that wanted to bubble up. Spaz having a woman he cared about enough to help her move was a laugh.

“What’s her name?”

“Claire Robinson.” A bullshit name, but it was on the rental papers in the cab.

“We’re going to need you to come back to the depot with us. Just while we confirm all this.”

“Of course, sir.” All about being user-friendly.

“Officer McCabe will take you in his cruiser.” A hand was put under his elbow to help him stand, and he shuffled after a highway patrolman with the start of a little Clark Gable mustache.

“Watch your head,” McCabe said, nice enough to cup the back of his head while Tiny stooped to slide into the back seat.

“Thanks.” The door was slammed shut. As he was sitting alone he felt the cell phone in his pocket vibrate once, twice, then stop.

It was done. Delivery had been made. Now he just had to avoid being remanded.

-oOo-

A violent coughing hack brought him out of his shallow sleep. Tiny swung his feet down to the cold concrete floor of the holding cell as his vision lit up with thousands of stars and he struggled just to breathe.

Fuck, this hurt. It felt like his lungs were trying to jump out his throat, and it seemed like his stomach wanted to come along for the ride. At the back of his throat he could taste blood.

It was now a more regular occurrence. After that morning, waking up with Mal, he had attacks like this a few times every day. He’d gone so long without any evidence of being sick he found himself scared now for the first time since receiving his diagnosis. Now it was real. Now he could feel what was different.

So far he hadn’t noticed his energy lagging at all. But that would probably come too.

Shouting and making Mal feel like shit was a pussy move, but he had to get her out of the house. In the bathroom he’d coughed until he was sure he should be spitting blood, his throat on fire and his chest throbbing. No one could know about this, and especially not Mal.

Definitely not Mal.

Best she hated him and stayed away. The first time he’d left had been bad enough. At least this way she—sort of—left
him
. That had to feel better. Didn’t it?

He had no clue. Usually when they parted ways he ended up an asshole. But no contact since that morning, and he was relieved by that.

“That sounds like it hurts.”

Tiny looked up at the squealing iron hinges that were sliding, the cell door opening. Officer McCabe was standing in the open doorway, hand on his belt, the other on the door.

“It’s not that bad,” Tiny grumbled, wiping at his chin. At least there was no bloody drool.

“Well, I don’t know what kind of friend you got but you’re being released.”

Tiny frowned. “What?”

“Your lawyer’s here. And the DA is calling for you to be released. Self-defense. Open and shut. After all, you shot some bad guy bikers.”

He hadn’t said a word when they shut him up in the little cinderblock room. He’d lawyered up immediately, and after thirty minutes they’d led him down to the holding cell. In that thirty minutes he’d discovered that, while the dead bikers had worn no visible colors, they had, in fact, been Dirty Rats. And the highway patrol had in turn discovered that Tiny’s record only held one incident that didn’t involve criminal organizations. He did, however, have some questionable entries under “known associates.”

No surprises there.

He’d fallen asleep while waiting for the lawyer. He had no idea what time it was, but he was disconcerted about how deep that nap was.

Okay, so maybe his energy was flagging a little.

Without a fuss or any swagger he followed McCabe up the concrete stairs, down a hallway past a few offices, then to the reception area of the depot. Thomas Clark, the Red Rebels’ lawyer on retainer, was waiting in a pleather arm chair. He stood and smiled, offering Tiny his hand.

“They treat you okay, Harlon?”

“Great, Tom. Perfect gentlemen.”

“I’ll be returning Mister Gray to his home county. If you need anything else from him you can contact me directly.”

McCabe just nodded, barely sparing any energy into a glance Tiny’s way before he turned and meandered back through the beige cluster of cubicles behind the receiving desk.

Clark held the glass door for him and Tiny stepped out into the clear night. It was cold already, biting to the bone, and he’d set out that day in only a T-shirt. It was definitely winter now.

“What’d you pull to spring me?”

Clark shrugged and unlocked the doors to his Infinity with a key fob. “Not much. When the guys got clear they stopped and got hold of Sachetti.”

Tiny’s eyebrow went up as he slung into the car. Shit, this thing rode low. “They went right to the top.”

“From what I hear, it was a set up. I’ll let Jayce explain it, but the set up wasn’t from Sachetti. He was surprised about the change in plans, so you know the truck wasn’t his idea. Someone’s pulling the strings without him knowing. And I think he’s pissed.”

Tiny let that stew the whole way back to Markham. It was just under an hour’s drive and Clark kept up the inane chatter to make it seem longer. The guy was perfectly suited for his career. He had no fucking off switch, but Tiny was fine to let him prattle. Clark was likely uncomfortable with silence, and Tiny was used to Fritter or Knuckles jawing his ear off.

The clubhouse was surrounded by bikes and vehicles, but the music wasn’t loud enough to be heard from outside. So a party, but not a big one. That sounded pretty good.

Inside the cloud of pot smoke hit him first, then the cheering of his road name, followed by Fritter coming forward to slap him on the back, a cigar wedged in the corner of his mouth. “Tiny! How was lock up? How’s your asshole?”

Tiny grinned and returned the back slap, about twice as hard. “Your boyfriend says hi. He misses you.”

“Aww. That’s sweet. Let’s get a drink.”

He let the kid shove him towards the bar and took the offered double of Jack. By then Knuckles and Buck were at his side as well, welcoming him back.

“Everyone is whole, it’s still a win,” Buck declared, tapping his beer bottle to Tiny’s glass. “Thanks, man.”

Tiny nodded, then tapped his glass to Knuckles’ can of Pepsi. “Saved our asses again, Knuck.”

“You got one, too. Then you got us out of there. Calm and cool, my friend.”

“Not as cool as Sachetti, from what I hear. What happened?”

Knuckles went up on his toes to survey the room. “Let’s find Jayce. He’ll debrief us all together.”

The Prez was somewhat distracted by a new girl, blonde and probably only about twenty, not at all uncomfortable being pushed against a hallway wall with a man’s hand up her skirt. They interrupted just as it was apparently just getting good, and at her pout Jayce just grinned and rubbed her lower lip with the thumb that had been between her legs. “I’ll be back, honey. Just hold that thought.”

The conference room lights buzzed and flickered before catching as they filed inside. The doors closing brought the music and voices outside down to a rolling rumble. They all took their designated seats and Tiny leaned forward on both elbows. “So. What the fuck happened?”

“We got hold of Sachetti shortly after you were taken in. We explained the weirdness at the dock, the truck change, all that. Then we told him about switching the load to your truck, sending your relief driver into the port with it. He was a bit nervous about that but he believes us that Mark has no idea what was in that truck. He thanked us for completing the delivery. Actually, he tipped us.”

Tiny frowned at his president. “Tipped us?”

“Extra twenty grand. He really wanted that shipment to go through.”

“Where’s it headed?”

His brothers shifted around the table. That was interesting, but eventually Jayce spoke up. “British Columbia.”

“Canada?” Well that was weird. Usually shit could be driven into Canada. It must be some really expensive cargo. “What was it? Do we know?”

“Yeah. It was packaged in baby powder bottles, but it’s definitely Thebaine.”

His heart actually caught. “You’re kidding. Sachetti is in on the Sunshine trade?”

“He is now. Which explains why the Dirty Rats wanted our Thebaine so bad.”

Knuckles had been tapping his fingers on the table, now he stopped. “We think this is linked to Mickey?”

Tiny and Jayce shared a look but Jayce spoke. “Dirty Rats want to set up their own game in any town they’re in. They want to sell here, they need to take out what’s here already.”

“Or sabotage it.” Now everyone was looking at Tiny. He cleared his throat, feeling the irritating catch but there was no coughing fit to go with it. “Sunshine caught on fast. It’s still getting into Markham on a very small trickle, but we know it’s here. If they sabotage the supply it makes their own product more attractive.”

“What are the Rats into?” Buck asked. “Other than
everything
I mean.”

“Crystal,” Tiny mumbled almost immediately, the entire picture coming clear. “I mean, we took out a huge meth lab a few months ago. It’s easy to produce, as long as you can get the ingredients. You don’t need to ship the actual product too far.”

“So our Rat infestation is in bed with the Mazaris in Markham.” Jayce nodded slowly. “That makes sense. Otherwise, why all the interest in this county? We have more crime syndicates than schools in Markham.”

“This
is
one of the few counties in the state with its own understaffed Sheriff’s department.” Fritter rubbed his chin. “I mean, look at everything we get away with.”

“Do we think this explains the Dirty Rats in Montrose?” Knuckles was frowning. “Wanting to buddy up with us, get close to Sachetti?”

“It’s a possibility, but I doubt it.” Jayce waved a hand as he spoke. “Those guys wear that patch but they’re totally antonymous. One chapter has nothing to do the next. I’m sure there are plenty of clubs that get so spread out there’s just not enough to do. That is, if they’re actually outlaw.”

“So what about Sachetti then?” Tiny covered his mouth as he had to cough. Again. “He’s gonna see if he’s got a leak or a rogue somewhere?”

“Yeah.  I kept our suspicion of Guidinger to ourselves.  This guy didn’t become what he was by being stupid.”

Tiny nodded, totally in agreement with the president. Naming names sounds like they might have been out to get that grease ball. Letting Sachetti find out the problem himself showed that they were at arm’s length. They did as told. Couldn’t be implicated.

“What about my driver?” Tiny asked. “Did he get home okay?”

At that Knuckles started cackling, then his brothers chuckled along with him. “You didn’t see him out there?” Jayce asked, grinning. “I think he’s got a brunette
and
a redhead taking care of him. I don’t think he’s gonna want to leave. We might have a new prospect in a couple years.”

Tiny had to chuckle, too. “Damn you guys. I can’t make any nice, ordinary friends if you keep flipping them to the dark side.”

“We gave him five grand for the trip,” Jayce added. “As a thank you for working on such short notice.”

“That came out of the tip,” Fritter was quick to add. “Our cut stays the same.”

“Thanks for clearing that up.” Tiny frowned. “Where’s Tank?”

“You kidding?” Buck laughed as the rest of the table grinned. “His woman can’t be left alone for longer than a few hours in her condition. Tank went home.”

“Talk about whipped.” This from Rusty, his new patch still really fucking bright on his leather.

“Just wait until you end up with a worthy woman carrying your kid,” Jayce shot back. “It wasn’t Rose’s idea, I assure you.”

Rusty’s smile faded and he looked away first.

Then Jayce grinned. “Busting your balls, man. But keep in mind that’s his old lady, not some random warm body. Have a bit of respect.”

“If we’re done here, I could use another drink,” Tiny spoke up, changing the subject.

“Great idea!” Knuckles shouted, springing to his feet. “Let’s celebrate Tiny getting out of the joint.”

“Wasn’t even charged, man.” Tiny chuckled as Knuckles bounced behind him and grabbed his shoulders.

“Details, details. Let’s go!”

The music was louder when they left. Two drunk townies thought they’d take a turn at the pole, and considering the Rebels owned a strip club, Tiny felt he had enough expertise to call their efforts sad. Entertaining, but sad.

When he sank his weary bones into an armchair with a beer in hand, Wendy found him. She perched herself on his knee, leaning into him with her chest, playing with the front of his shirt. After a while he took her to his room.

Chapter Fifteen

With a yawn Mallory rolled to her back, her body feeling rested and heavy. Over her head she stretched her arms, smiling when her back cracked. Damn. That had been a fantastic sleep. She wasn’t used to sleeping so deeply—

With a start she sat up. The baby. Something must be wrong.

She pulled on her robe and dashed down the hall, her heart thudding out a panicked rhythm. Until she pushed open the door to Angie’s room.

“Oh, thank God.” She sank against the doorjamb, smiling at her own ridiculous reaction. In the recliner in the corner, under a lamp with a pink shade, Harlon Gray was dead asleep, head to the side and down, angled towards the sleeping face of his daughter. Angie was settled on her stomach on Harlon’s wide chest, hands out and holding onto the flannel shirt he was wearing, breathing through her heart-shaped lips. Harlon’s arm was holding her in place, the other on the arm of the chair, empty bottle in hand.

He’d been working. Mallory hadn’t expected to see him until the next day, in the afternoon sometime. He must have driven all night to get home.

Mallory moved forwards, carefully plucking the infant from him. As she did his arm tightened and she gave a “Shhh” before taking Angie’s weight. He blinked, swallowed, then smiled up at her.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered, and she just shook her head before turning towards the crib. She settled Angie down on her back, tensed and waiting for the crying to start. But the little girl just scrunched up her nose, then was still again, chest rising and falling.

“She’s fine, honey,” Harlon whispered, his voice low, rumbling his chest against her back.

“I know. I panicked when I woke up. She wasn’t crying.”

“She started when I got home. I didn’t want her to wake you up.”

His arms came to her hips, then slid around to her stomach. She pushed at his hands, and he stopped caressing her, but left his hands where they were.

“Mallory. What’s wrong?”

She had no good answer. Her body was weird to her now, weight added in extra areas that had never made her self-conscious before. But now she hated the pouch at her stomach, and her hips and ass seemed flabby. It had been over two months since Anna was born, and she was cleared for sex, but she’d had trouble letting go.

“Honey, talk to me. I miss you so much.”

During her pregnancy Harlon had been surprisingly involved. And not just involved but supportive, attentive. Nothing could have made him more attractive than all that, and while her hormones had been all out of whack they’d been at it like rabbits. She’d been bigger then than she was now. She had no idea what her problem was.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“You’re beautiful, honey. Just...let me love you.”

She wanted to. God, she wanted that so much. She was definitely in love with him now, and she truly believed he felt the same. The pregnancy had pushed them close in a very short span of time.

His beard scratched her neck as he kissed it. “Let’s just go lie down. Let her sleep.”

She clicked the lamp off, then let him pull her by the hand down the carpeted hall and into their darkened bedroom. There were still a few boxes she hadn’t had time to unpack yet. Maybe now he was home she could get around to putting away a few more things.

The terrycloth robe was returned to its hook on the back of the door, then she slid back into bed while he pulled off his flannel and jeans. He was just in his shorts when he snuggled up to her back.

He was hard. She could feel it at the small of her back, and part of her wanted to roll over and kiss him, let him make love to her like he always had. She needed to get out of her head.

He mouth pressed kisses to her neck again, then to her shoulder. With one big, dry hand he smoothed down her arm. Her body clenched low at that touch and her eyes closed.

“Honey, you are so beautiful.”

She smiled, then his hand slid up her leg, taking her nightshirt with it. At her hip his hand stopped, and she knew he was waiting for some kind of permission. She’d stopped him there before.

She wasn’t herself. Not at all. But it was in her head. To him she was the same as she’d always been. Even being there when their daughter was born hadn’t diminished his desire for her. There was no way to fake that. He still wanted her, still desired her.

With breath held in her chest she rolled to her back under his arm, then put a hand to his cheek. Her nails scratched through his beard and she felt him smile.

Her hand slid to the back of his neck and she pulled him down to kiss her. He did so, hungrily, but she could still feel some distance. Like he was letting her set the pace. She didn’t want that. She loved that he took over, wanted her so much he was almost lost in it.

She pushed her tongue into his mouth, pulling at him so that he rolled his weight onto her. With a sigh she pulled her legs up, cradling his hips against her. Now he moaned and his hips flexed, and she felt the change in him as he pushed her hands up over her head, pinning them to the pillow as he nipped and sucked at her neck, throat, collarbone.

“Harlon,” she gasped, willing her body to accept this. The more he kissed and caressed and moaned, the more she felt that doubt dissolving.

Now his hands slid down to her breasts, cupping and squeezing them. It didn’t hurt, it felt amazing. As he brushed over her nipples with both thumbs her back arched and a cry slid from her throat.

“You okay?”

She nodded, opening her eyes now to meet his gaze. It was heated, dark, and wanting. She didn’t think he’d ever look at her like that again. “I’m fine,” she gasped. “Don’t stop, please.”

He didn’t. His head bowed to pull a hardened nipple into his mouth. She hummed, back pushing up to give him all the room he needed. Her pulse was quickening, her joints becoming fluid. Her body was completely his.

After fussing with a condom—muttering that he hadn’t needed to use one all those months—he slid inside her slowly, taking his time. She wanted him to move harder, but he was savoring her. She decided to do the same.

His chest was hard, pressing her into the mattress. His arm under her lower back held her close, tilting her hips. His free hand cupped her side of her face before he kissed her again.

She had no idea how long they writhed, moaned, twisted together. She did know that her first orgasm was sweet, the second much more frantic. When Harlon finished and they were catching their breath their little angel in the next room started wailing.

Harlon laughed, breathless, his forehead resting on her shoulder. “Her timing is getting better.”

Mallory smiled as he kissed her collarbone. “It is.”

“I’ll get her.”

“No, it’s my turn. You get your sleep.”

He hovered over her, his erection still inside her but softening. “You’re sure?”

She nodded. “You just got home. Get some rest. I’ve got this.”

He slid free of her with a moan, then flopped to his back hard enough to bounce her on the mattress. “I’m going to sleep like the dead now.”

She smiled, pushed her nightgown back down and got to her feet. She snuggled into her robe again and turned back to the bed before shutting the bedroom door, but Harlon was already out, on top of the covers, condom still in place.

“Oh God,” she muttered, coming forward and flipping the sheets back to cover him up. Then she shut him in their room and headed down the hall to Angie’s room. Time to start the day.

-oOo-

“Mal, you been waiting long?”

She jumped, startled out of her reverie by the voice shouting off to her left. She stood from the steps of the motel, squinting into the rising sun. “I thought you said we were leaving at eight. I’ve been here half an hour.”

Hal managed a rueful grin as Gail stalked in front of him towards the rental van. They must have been fighting. Great. This would be a wonderful road trip.

“Sorry. Shower took a little longer than expected.”

“Not long enough,” Gail snapped, yanking open the back doors.

Mal stifled a giggle as Hal’s smile slipped. “Watch what you say, woman.”

“Whatever. Let’s just get on the fucking road.”

Behind Hal, Matt and V were following slowly, lugging their suitcases and looking pretty damn rough.

“What did you guys get up to last night?” Mal asked as she stowed her bags in the back, along with all their gear.

“Tequila,” V answered, voice rough as gravel. “Some of that shitty pot.”

Mal winced. “You gotta stop using that stuff. There’s something in it.”

“It’s fun at the time though,” Matt drawled, brushing past her to toss his bags on top of hers.

“Where did you guys find that, anyway?”

“Dealer’s got a new contact,” V said, covering his mouth as he yawned. “Bikers in Montrose.”

Mal stilled, and she knew she was probably staring like a nut but she couldn’t help it. “Bikers?”

“Yeah. They seem like good guys, though.” V scooted around her to get to the side door. She was too slow to follow so she ended up on Matt’s side, sandwiched between two detoxing musicians. Luckily they fell asleep almost immediately.

Gail and Hal were frosty with each other in the front, so she stared out the window at the passing landscape while V’s head rested on her shoulder. He was out but at least he didn’t snore.

The night before had been the first gig of their California road trip. They were now pulling out of Fort Bragg and headed to Ukiah. Tomorrow night’s show was taking place in a bar close to Mendocino College, so they were looking at a Friday night in a college bar. Mallory would rather suffer through another Harlon Gray mood change than sing for drunk frat kids but...whatever.

She’d been outvoted.

And her heart was still hurting. Fuck, it seemed impossible that the scar tissue Harlon had made of her heart years ago still had the capacity to hurt like this. No, she didn’t think they’d been destined for happily ever after. But his change in attitude had not only surprised her, it stung. All because...she didn’t even know why.

No, she was done with him then. That was it. She’d given him a clear shot to hurt her again and he’d taken it. So...fuck him.

-oOo-

For a college crowd, they had good taste in music.

They’d accepted the old rock and soul blend The Malcontents had to offer and were crowding the dance floor in groups and pairs. When the opening bars of Brown Eyed Girl started up the group actually cheered and a few more squeezed onto the limited dance space.

In spite of her unwillingness to tour, Mal was finding this pretty fun. Even if they were drunk and high on whatever else they were enthusiastic and no one was throwing shit. It made for a nice change. The Wednesday night before in Fort Bragg had been to a half-empty house where people were conversing, not so much listening to the music and getting into the groove. She felt like asking them if the band should turn it down.

Hal was right in his element. Girls in the front row were throwing fuck me eyes at him, and he was returning the favor. But he was also totally focused. He loved performing, and when the group really ate it up he was unstoppable.

She was all too happy to take back-up on this song. Hal was jumping around, microphone a tether that kept him in place. He’d go into this weird Mick Jagger routine when he was really feeling his flow, and the strut was in full force that night.

At the end of the tune Hal announced it was time for a short break and the DJ took over immediately, obviously knowing he needed to keep the kids dancing and thirsty. Mal followed her bandmates off stage to the beat up little green room right off the stage. It held a couch, three mismatched kitchen chairs and a table with a cooler of beer. Hal headed for the beer immediately, swinging his hair back off his face. Sweat went flying everywhere.

“Gross,” Mal muttered, stepping around him to grab a beer for herself.

“They’re loving you, baby doll,” Hal drawled, grinning as he put his arm around her waist.

Mal gave an indulgent smile as she stepped out of his reach. “I think they’re drunk and high. But at least they’re behaved.”

Hal laughed, throwing his head back. He was in full manic, adrenalin-fueled ecstasy. At least she thought so. “Well behaved. Fuck Mal, why you always gotta go and act you age?”

She shook her head as V stepped up to Hal, reaching around him for a beer. “Take it easy, man.”

“I’m always easy, ain’t I, Mal?” Hal was grinning at her again, and she reevaluated his emotional state. His eyes seemed okay, or were they glassy? It was hard to tell here.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah you do.” He approached her again, tugging on a chunk of her hair. She took a step back, he came with her.

“Come on, Hal. Fuck off.”

“Your tits are fucking perfect, you know that?”

“Jesus, Hal. Let’s go outside, get some fresh air.” Matthew had hold of Hal’s arm and was pulling him back.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. But when you’re sober we’re discussing this.”