Summer Pain (7 page)

She bowed her head and tried to pull away from him. “Just give me a minute.”

“Summer,” he said, tilting her chin to his. “Who did this to you?”

Tears the size of lemon drops fell against her cheek. She hurried to the bathroom and grabbed a few tissues from a silver box on the vanity.

“Summer, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” He was pissed, but the fury he felt wasn’t nearly as harsh as the blame. He should’ve been here. He could’ve been here. The meeting had adjourned in plenty of time, but he’d taken a ride to clear his mind.

“When did this happen?”

Summer sniffed, blew her nose, and whispered, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Summer, you’ve got to talk to me. Do you know who did this?”

Reluctantly, she nodded. Those big brown eyes were melting like chocolate, but the pain wasn’t all he saw lingering there. The woman was pissed, too.

Good. He could work with anger a lot better than he could handle a frightened woman.

“I want a name.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She dragged the back of her hand across her scraped chin.

“Did he touch you?”

Her expression twisted.

“Whoever did this…did he rape you?”

“No,” she cried out, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Thank God.” Tigger blew out a hard breath before he squatted between her parted knees. He caressed her arm with one hand and moved her fallen locks out of the way with the other. Peering under her long hair, he said, “I promise you, Summer. I’ll handle this. Give me a name. I won’t ask questions. I won’t ask why it happened. I just need a name.”

“No questions?” She gulped. “You promise you won’t ask why?”

“Of course. It’s not my business.”

“Then why do you need his name?”

“Because, baby,” he paused and searched her eyes, “it is not okay for a man to raise his hand to a woman.”

She tented her hands over her brows and massaged her forehead. “He’s with the Devil’s Angels.”

“The Angels?” Tigger gulped. “Does this have something to do with you showing up at our club asking for Damsel Road?”

“You said you wouldn’t ask questions.”

“Fine,” he bit out. “Who with the Angels, Summer? Do you know who?”

“Gaylord Martin. He’s the club’s—”

“I know who he is,” Tigger snapped, retrieving his cell phone from his jeans. “And I know where to find him.”

“Not tonight,” Summer pleaded, tugging at his sleeve as he rose to his feet. “Please, Tigger. I know we’ve only known one another for a few days, but please stay with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Tigger looped his arms around her and drew her against him. Stroking her back, he reassured her. “Of course you don’t. And you won’t be. I’ll stay with you all night. But so help me God, Gaylord will pay for this.”

Seconds later, the guilt consumed him. He should’ve been there. He noticed a destroyed floral arrangement next to the wall. Leaves had fallen away from the stems. Flower petals were scattered about. “How’d he get in here?”

She pointed at the flower bouquet. “I thought he was a delivery guy.”

Damn him! Gaylord was sending a direct message. The reason Summer refused to tell him more was because she knew her affiliation with him had placed her in danger. First, Logan and now this?

“Baby, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. The Heroes and Rogues are at odds with the Devil’s Angels, and that club is full of one-percenters.”

“One-percenters?”

“Men without a conscience. They're considered outlaws, fellows who operate by their own rules without any regard to others.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it is. There’s no one else to blame.”

Summer shook her head. “Me. I wasn’t careful enough. When he knocked on the door, I saw the flowers and let him in. I really couldn’t see his face behind the bouquet. I should’ve told him to leave the arrangement at the front desk.”

Her shaken voice threw him into a fit of new rage. “What time was he here?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” he said, assuming she must’ve thought Gaylord was him if she’d opened up the door so carelessly.

“Around eight, I think.”

Oh hell. How could he live with himself? What had he been thinking? He should’ve been there. He could’ve been on time. But he hadn’t been.

* * * *

Logan plugged his cell back into the charger and slipped under the sheets again, drawing Sassy against his chest.

“Who was on the phone?” She nuzzled his wrist and wrapped her arm around his neck, playing with the hairs at his nape. He loved that. He loved everything about his woman.

“Tigger.”

“That’s a surprise,” she said sleepily. “Isn’t he spending the night with his new big boy toy?"

“Summer may be more than a toy to Tigger,” he told her, staring into the darkness.

“She’s his rebound, Logan.”

“I don’t think so.”

Sassy decided to let that go, asking instead, “Why did he call?”

“It’s the woman. She was attacked tonight.”

“What?” Sassy sat upright in the bed and turned on the bedside lamp. “Why?”

“Gaylord paid her a visit.”

“Oh my God, Logan.” Sassy’s hand went to her mouth. She looked as frightened as he imagined Tigger’s new flame must’ve been when she realized she’d lit a fire to a man who was an out-of-control inferno. “Is this club-related?”

“It’s starting to look like it. First, I’m fingered as a snitch, and now an outright physical attack on a woman Tigger has only known for a couple of days? It doesn’t add up.”

“Yes, it does. Gaylord is grasping. He’s looking to cause a lot of commotion. He’s trying to throw you off your game.”

“I would agree whole-heartedly if he’d attacked you, Cara, or Victory. But why a gal no one knows? She isn’t an old lady. She isn’t one of the club’s broads. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe you should call Mark tomorrow and see if he can shed a light on some of it.”

“Hell no! He tried to pull me out and expected me to leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“He was doing his job, honey.”

Logan slung back the covers and rose from the bed. “Well, now I have no other choice. I have to do mine.”

Chapter Ten

“Melinda,” Logan greeted Gaylord’s wife an hour later when she answered the door of their home. “I need to speak with Gaylord.”

“He’s not here,” she lied.

“I know he’s here.” Logan returned the favor. “We’ve had surveillance on him all day.”

A creak in the floor announced the obvious, and Melinda stepped aside.

“You want to do this here or take a ride?” Logan asked, eyeing the beast of a man in front of him.

Poor Summer. Gaylord must’ve terrified her. Tigger had said she was shaken, but if Gaylord had knocked her around, Logan was betting on more than a few bruises. He’d left internal scars, psychological damage.

Yeah, Logan knew what Gaylord was capable of.

“I speak freely in front of my wife.”

“Suit yourself.” Logan pushed by him. Upon entering Gaylord’s home, he added, “I have a feeling you’ll regret those words.”

“I’ll make some coffee,” Melinda said, playing the perfect role of doting wife.

“Don’t on my account,” Logan snapped, his focus returning to Gaylord. “Someone attacked a friend of Tigger’s tonight.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” Gaylord fibbed, taking a seat on a sofa that looked too small to accommodate his six-foot-five, nearly three-hundred pound form.

“She was threatened and beaten, from what I gather.”

“Have you seen her?”

“No. Tigger is with her now. I imagine he won’t go anywhere, just a little sidebar for you to consider in case you were planning on revisiting her any time in the near future.”

“Gaylord, what’s this about?” Melinda asked.

“Go back to bed. I’ll be there soon.” Gaylord only turned his head in acknowledgement and acted as if he were speaking to his shoulder rather than his wife. Compassion didn’t linger in his voice. If anything, he seemed more irritable because Melinda had questioned him in front of company.

Logan saw the opportunity and went in for the kill. “Yeah, Melinda, he should be there soon if he isn’t otherwise engaged, targeting another innocent victim to threaten.” He looked at Melinda dead-on. “Your husband went to see a friend of Tigger’s tonight. He threatened her and left her in pretty bad shape.”

“Who’s the woman?” she asked, the ice in her voice and eyes running thick enough to freeze her chilly veins.

Women like Melinda knew the score. They’d played the game. They’d been involved with the MC long enough to know there would be infidelities, bloodshed, and an unlimited number of dangerous liaisons, both in business and in pleasure.

“You don’t know her,” Gaylord snapped.

“No.” Logan stalked him. With his finger extended, he said, “
You
don’t know her. You targeted someone you knew nothing about and went to intimidate her anyway. You battered and bruised a woman who is nothing more than a visitor in this damn town. She isn’t an old lady! She isn’t a broad! She’s been here less than seventy-two hours and did not deserve to be harassed by anyone affiliated with the Devil’s Angels!”

“Do you know her, Gaylord?” Melinda asked calmly.

“No.” He kept his gaze pinned to Logan.

“Why would you go see her then?” Melinda’s voice was elevated.

“That’s the fifty million dollar question, isn’t it, Gaylord?” Logan watched Gaylord, trying to gather what information he could from the man who had intimidated a woman without just cause. Then Logan thought of a new angle, of a possible reason Gaylord might have approached Summer. There was only one explanation.

“Oh my God. This is starting to make sense now.”

Gaylord’s cold eyes followed him as he paced the room. Melinda watched him carefully, too.

“She’s inside,” Logan whispered, talking to himself more than anyone else. “She’s inside, and she’s not here to work alongside us. She’s here to find out which one of us has gone rogue.”

Gaylord stood. “I think you’ve outstayed your welcome, Marcs.”

“The hell I have!” Logan bellowed, turning on him. Before he thought better of it, he grabbed Gaylord by the collar and threw him up against the wall. “Do you know what the hell you’ve done? Do you?”

“Let him go!” Melinda smacked Logan’s arm and tugged at his sleeve.

Logan shrugged her away. “Do you have any idea what you’ve jeopardized?”

Gaylord sneered. “The way I see it, your boy Tigger is about to turn on you. He’ll be in bed with Summer by morning, probably stay there for the better part of the weekend, and since we both know she won’t turn on me now, it’s probably safe to assume that vote you escaped at your table earlier today will soon be overturned.

Summer will tell Tigger what she knows and, because of the threat against her, she will finger you. She’ll explain she’s working for the Feds, and that will be that. You’re finished, Marcs. Done. If I were you, I’d go back to the clubhouse, gather up my belongings and that hot little redhead you profess to love. Then, get the hell out of town before all the heat comes down.”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t me.”

* * * *

The sun was barely peering over the horizon by the time Mark Sampson met Logan at one of their regular meeting spots, an abandoned hunting cabin situated on top of a ridge overlooking most of Beech Creek Road. From the backyard, the Heroes and Rogues clubhouse could easily be seen. From the front, a perfect view of the Devil’s Angels parking lot was visible with a good set of binoculars.

Mark exited his sedan and joined Logan on the porch. Logan handed him a coffee. “I got tired of waiting and ran down to the market. I was afraid I might have missed you.”

“I got held up.” Mark removed the plastic lid and took a sip. “What do you have for me?”

“Tell me about Summer Pain.” Logan dropped his arms between splayed legs.

“She’s undercover. I had nothing to do with her assignment, but I’m her handler now.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Logan grunted. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Gaylord is dirty. You were right.”

Interesting, Logan mused. Had Sampson decided to play this another way? “She plans to tell you just the opposite.”

“Where’d you get your information?”

Mark was jittery, far too nervous for Logan’s liking. He acted as if he had something to hide, and Logan couldn’t help but think of one of his father’s favorite sayings, “If it slithers like a snake, it’s a snake.”

“Gaylord paid her a visit. He banged her up pretty good. From what I can tell, this operation is about to be blown to hell and back.”

Mark shook his head. “Not if I can help it.”

Logan shoved his hands in his front pockets and stretched his legs forward. “Well, I guess this whole operation is in Summer’s hands now.”
Over my dead body.

“I’ll agree with you there,” Mark said.

Probably thinking the same thing.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Logan grumbled. “We work for years to gain our positions within the club, and the agency sends in a woman to do their bidding for them, to try and figure out which man is dirty, which one has his own agenda. Then the gal lands in bed with one of the MC’s top guys within forty-eight hours of her arrival? How the fuck does that happen?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Mark said, standing. “Logan, you have to be prepared for the worst. If I were you, I’d go to the club, gather up the belongings you have, and get Sassy out of there. If nothing else, send her away for a few weeks.”

“I probably don’t have a choice now, do I?” Logan stared off in the distance. He couldn’t help but compare men. Mark and Gaylord wanted him out of town. They’d both advised him to leave and take Sassy with him.

“No, you really don’t.” Mark sighed. “This thing could come down several ways now. I hope to arrange a meeting with Summer later today. If I can see her face-to-face, I’ll reassure her. Once she realizes we know Gaylord is our man here, then maybe we can pull him out without further consequence.”

“And what if Summer has already confided in Tigger? What if she’s spilled the beans on the entire operation?”