Chapter 24

King/Dante

"If I don't take a break from these fuckin' spreadsheets, I'm gonna shoot somebody," I grumbled.

I took off my reading glasses and tossed them on the table, then stretched my arms over my head. I winced as something popped in my lower back, a hazard of being hunched over a fucking laptop for hours on end.

Cowboy, Irish, Bull, and I had been sitting around the table in the chapel, going over the month-end financial reports. We'd been at it for almost two hours, and my ass was numb from sitting here. I fucking hated this part of my position, but it was a necessary evil.

"All right, I'm going to grab a bottle of water and see if there's any of that pizza left over from lunch. Anybody else want anything?"

Before I could even stand up, my phone rang. I picked it up and glanced at the screen, surprised as hell to see Cynnamon's name displayed. I held it up for Cowboy to see, then quickly answered it.

"King here." I said gruffly. I was met by the sound of a woman crying.

"I…uh…this is Cynnamon," she said, her words choppy as if she couldn't catch her breath.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm at the hospital, getting checked out. Pic…tracked me down…showed up at my place this morning." Shit! This wasn't good. I quickly put her on speaker phone so the others could hear what she had to say.

"What happened," I demanded gruffly.

"He was acting crazy. He said…" her words trailed off, and I heard her breathing heavily.

"Calm down. If you're at the hospital, he can't get to you. You're safe right now. Tell me what happened." I tried to soften my tone, hoping she would calm down and start explaining. "Are you OK?"

"The doc said I will be. Got some bruised ribs, a black eye, and busted lip, and he sprained my wrist when he grabbed me. Nothing broken though, and no concussion. They're getting my discharge papers ready, so I can leave soon."

"Good, now tell me exactly what happened," I instructed.

"He was strung-out and started beating on me. He was pissed because I ran out on him, and because you gave me the money to get home. My neighbors heard us fighting and –"

My gaze shot up to meet Cowboy's, and I could tell he was wondering the same thing. "Hold on, back up. How did he track you down, and how the fuck did he know I gave you the money to get home?"

"I don't know. I mean, I told Star where I was when I called her, and I told her about you helping me out, so maybe she told somebody else, and it got back to him. I don't know, King, but now I need -"

"You've been talking to Star?" I was pissed, but I didn't even try to hide it. "Jesus Christ, you were supposed to be laying low, not running your mouth to people here about where you are and how you got there. Who else have you talked to since you've been home, Cyn? Anyone else associated with the Fallen Angels or the MC?" My voice was harsh, but I didn't care. Goddammit, what the hell was she thinking?

"No, just Star, but I don't see what the big deal is. It's not my fault he found me, and now I need you to send me some money to get out of town."

The other men around the table rolled their eyes at her stupidity, and I clenched my jaw so that I didn't yell at an injured woman, no matter how much of an idiot she was.

"Where is Pic now?" I asked, since that was my prime concern at the moment.

"I have no fucking idea. My neighbors heard the fight and called the cops. He took off when he heard the sirens."

"What did you tell the cops? Did you tell them about Pic?"

"Hell no! I've been around enough MC's to know to keep my mouth shut about the members. I told them I thought it was someone who followed me home from the strip club I'm dancing at now."

"That's good, Cyn. That's real good. Where do you want to go?"

"Tampa, Florida. I like the beach."

"We'll send you a bus ticket and five thousand dollars. You're on your own after that, and I suggest you lose Star's number, and anyone else who's associated with the Guardians or Fallen Angels. Laying low means keeping your fuckin' mouth shut, got it?"

I pointed at Irish, and he nodded.

"OK, Irish will make arrangements for the ticket, and he'll wire you the money. I'll have him get in touch with you shortly with the details.

"Thanks, King, and I'm sorry for everything. Pic, the money, your son. Everything just got so fucked up, and I…well, I'm sorry."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to relieve the tension headache that was building. "Just take care of yourself, Cyn. Stay off the radar and out of trouble."

I stabbed the button on the screen to disconnect the call, then stared at the other men.

"Irish, take care of getting her ass on a bus to Florida, ASAP. Do whatever you can to leave a minimal paper trail for the money."

"On it, Prez." He slipped out of the room, and I looked at Bull and Cowboy.

"I'm heading to Fallen Angels to talk to Star. I want to know who she's been running her mouth to. Cowboy, I want you with me. We may need to talk to all of the staff there to get answers."

"Bull, run your checks and see if you can pick up any trace of Pic around Cyn's place. See if maybe the local police there managed to catch his ass."

He nodded his agreement, and I motioned to Cowboy to follow me.

"Let's go. I want to get this over with and get over to Ella's place. Her kids left for Florida this morning, so we have the house to ourselves tonight." Cowboy just grinned and shook his head as he followed me out to the parking lot, reminding me that he wanted to get home to Michelle, too. She'd moved in with him a week ago. So far, Nathan and Hailey seemed to be OK with the new arrangement, and I suspected that it wouldn't be long until Cowboy and Michelle made things permanent.

Once we got to Fallen Angels, I was pissed as hell to find out that Star hadn't shown up for her afternoon shift. She hadn't called either. A quick chat with the dancers and staff on duty hadn't turned up anything helpful. They all swore they hadn't seen or heard from Pic or Cyn since he quit the club and they had moved away together, which was the official story we gave for their absence. Unless they were better actors than I gave them credit for, the staff were telling the truth.

"Bodhi, get me Star's address," I ordered. "I need to talk to her." He nodded and headed to his office to get her employment file. I glanced at the strippers still standing around in the dressing room, likely gossiping about my visit here and the questions I'd asked.

"Hey, King, you look a little stressed. How about I give you a private dance?" I felt the arms wrapping around my back at the same time as the sultry voice registered, and I turned to find Ginger standing there, wearing only a G-string and body glitter.

I grasped her arms and removed them from my body, pushing her away from me as I took a step back.

"You fuckin' know better than that, Ginger. You know the policy. Don't touch me again." She pouted, or at least tried to. She had so much of that filler shit injected into her lips that they didn't move much.

"Go on and get ready for your next set," I ordered, not even trying to hide my anger. I stalked off then, joining Bodhi and Cowboy in Ace's office. As usual, my half-brother was nowhere to be found, and Bodhi had no idea where he was.

"He disappeared about an hour after I got here, Prez. I ain't seen him since."

I held onto my temper by a thread as I traded knowing glances with Cowboy. I was heartily sick of Ace's shit and wanted nothing more than to kick his ass to the curb. I knew Cowboy agreed with me, but we didn't have enough evidence that he'd broken the club rules to kick him out of the MC. That didn't mean I couldn't demote him as the manager here, though, and that was probably going to happen soon.

"OK," I sighed, throwing myself down into one of the chairs in front of the desk. Cowboy was sitting in the other one, and Bodhi was behind the desk pulling up something on the computer. "Do you have Star's address for me?"

He nodded, then slid a small piece of paper across the desk to me. "This is the address she gave me when we hired her full-time here. It's one of those big, old houses over off West Washington Street that's been divided up into studio apartments. Ginger lives in one of them and told Star about the place when she moved out of the clubhouse." I nodded, knowing the general area he was talking about.

"Thanks, brother. I'll swing by her place on my way to Ella's house." I'd thought about trying to call her to ask about Cyn, but I wanted to do it face to face, so I could get a feel for how truthful she was being.

By the time I made it to the run-down apartment house she was staying at, I was as pissed off as I'd been in a while. Between Cyn, Star, Pic, and Ace, my bullshit quotient had been met and exceeded for the day. Not only that, but I was also going to be late for dinner with Ella, and she was making her lasagna, dammit.

The front door to the apartment house was propped open, and I made my way up to the second floor. According to Bodhi's note, she was in apartment 2B. I knocked repeatedly, but there was no answer. Some instinct – the same instinct that I'd learned to listen to over the years – told me I needed to have a look inside.

There was no deadbolt on the door, and it only took seconds to slide my knife between the edge of the door and the door casing, popping open the flimsy lock on the doorknob. I grabbed the edge of my T-shirt and covered the doorknob with it before turning it, then eased my way into the apartment. I had no intention of catching a charge for breaking and entering by leaving my fingerprints behind if for some reason it ever came up.

I took in the small, almost empty space at a glance. The only furnishings were an old futon in the corner, which had been made up as a bed, and a rickety-looking card table with a couple of folding chairs in the corner. Based on the dirty carry-out food containers stacked on it was being used as her dining table. The air was ripe with the odor of spoiled food, made worse by the stifling hot temperature in the apartment. The window-mounted air-conditioning unit wasn't running. I idly wondered if it was broken, or if she just didn't turn it on unless she was home. Either way, I was sweating like a whore in church. The leather cut wasn't helping any, but I wasn't about to take it off and lay it down anywhere in this pigsty.

I looked around, trying to determine if she just hadn't furnished the place with much yet, or if she had skipped out. There was a tiny closet standing open next to the bathroom – crammed full of clothes, with a pile of shoes on the floor. A quick glance in the bathroom showed a toothbrush in a cup on the edge of the small sink, and bottles of shampoo and assorted beauty products on the shelf in the tiny shower stall.

It definitely looked like she planned to come back, and I debated sitting down to wait for her. As another trickle of sweat rolled down my temple, I decided that wasn't happening. I'd call one of the prospects over to keep an eye on the place, and they could call me when she returned.

I stepped back out into the main room and looked toward the tiny kitchenette in the corner. I spotted a stack of napkins on the counter from various fast-food restaurants and grabbed one, using it to open the freezer door. I hoped a cold blast of air would provide a little relief to the oppressive heat in the room.

" Damn ," I whistled quietly, taking in the gallon-sized clear plastic baggie which was the only thing in the freezer aside from a half-empty bottle of top-shelf vodka. The baggie was filled with stacks of cash – mostly twenties and fifties, with a small stack of hundreds thrown in. At a glance, I figured there had to be close to twenty-thousand dollars there.

"Why the fuck would she be living in this shithole if she's pulling down this kind of cash at the club?" I muttered to myself, filing that question away to think about later. "And why the fuck didn't she put it in the bank instead of hiding it in the freezer?"

I closed the freezer and used the napkin to open the refrigerator, which was empty except for a pizza box and three cans of beer. The two small cabinets were next, and they yielded an ugly surprise.

Baggies. Lots of tiny baggies, some filled with pills and others with white powder. A digital scale. An unopened box of syringes. And the biggest surprise of all? All the baggies were stamped with a goddamned bone. It was the mark of T-Bone, the street rat who'd turned traitor in K-Dog's crew last fall. That fucking bitch was dealing for him.

Reining in my rage, I carefully closed the cabinet doors, then quietly made my way to the front door. Using the napkin still in my hand, I made sure the lock was engaged, then eased the door closed and quietly left the building.

I fired up my bike and pulled away from the curb, mad as fuck at what I'd just found. I decided against calling a prospect over here to watch out for Star's return. As much as I wanted to find her so I could pump her for information about Cyn and Pic, I didn't want any of my men getting caught up in a turf war between T-Bone and K-Dog.

I needed to share this new info with my officers, so instead of going to Ella's place like I should be doing, I drove back to the clubhouse. I walked in and spotted Trick in the kitchen making a sandwich.

"Officer's meeting, in ten minutes. Cowboy headed home when we left Fallen Angels, but I've already texted him, so he's on his way here. Any idea where Irish and Bull are?"

"Bull's still in his office, I think. Irish was playing pool with Misty a little while ago." He glanced out into the common room, then shrugged. "He's probably either out back smoking, or he went up to his room. I'll text him."

I eyed his sandwich, thinking of the dinner I was probably going to miss. "You hungry, Prez? I can make you one really quick."

"Nah, man, but thanks. Ella's got lasagna waiting for me, if we ever get done with this shit tonight. Hopefully she's not too pissed at me for being late." I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before I headed to the chapel, stopping at Bull's office to let him know we were meeting. I sat down and made a call to Ella to let her know I was going to be late. When her voice mail picked up, I left her a quick message.

"Hey, sugar. I'm hung up dealing with some club business so go ahead and eat without me. I'm not sure when I'll get there, but I'll call if I'm going to be stuck here too late."

Trick walked in a few minutes later, carrying his half-eaten sandwich and a bottle of water. Bull was next, followed by Irish right behind him, tucking his T-shirt into his jeans as he walked. When Cowboy arrived, I started talking before he even sat down, explaining the shit I'd found at Star's place. As expected, they didn't take the news well.

"That bitch was working with T-Bone? Un-fucking-believable," Trick snarled.

"That may not be the worst of it. Something about this whole thing is bothering me, so hear me out." The other four nodded, giving me their full attention.

"So we know now that Star was running drugs for that dickweasel, T-Bone. We also know Pic had been runnin' drugs on the side. Now, we assumed he was doin' his own thing, but maybe he wasn't? It's a hell of a coincidence that Star happens to have a connection to two different suppliers working the same territory. Plus, if Star and Pic were working together with T-Bone, it makes sense that Star would run her mouth to Pic as soon as Cyn called her."

"And if that's the case, that means that Star's the rat we've been looking for who was feeding intel to Pic this whole goddamned time," Cowboy concluded grimly.

I nodded. "That's the theory I'm working with."

"Fuck," Bull muttered, running his hands through his hair. He pulled his laptop closer and started tapping. "I'll see if I can hack into her phone records to look for any connection to Pic. It's probably gonna take me a while," he warned.

I sat back in my chair and looked at Cowboy. He shook his head and sighed. "Well, hell. I was so damned sure it was Ace."

I snorted. "I was, too. Who the fuck knows, he may still be involved, so keep your guard up with him, and keep him out of the loop on anything to do with this clusterfuck. I just don't trust the sonofabitch."

The other men nodded, and we discussed how to handle Star without getting caught in the crossfire with K-Dog, who was still gunning for T-Bone.

"She's fired from Fallen Angels for missing her shift without calling off. Then she's banned from all club property. We completely wash our hands of her, so hopefully that will minimize any blowback on the club if K-Dog finds out about her." Everyone agreed with my decree, and we decided to wait for Bull's check on her phone records before making any other plans.

"If we find proof that she and Pic are still in contact, I'll have to give K-Dog the heads up, so he doesn't think that Pic was acting on behalf of the MC." The others nodded reluctantly. "Fuck, that conversation is gonna be a bitch."

"Trick, we need to talk to the other bunnies. Find out if any of them knew about Star dealin' for T-Bone. Let's bring them into my office, one at a time. Start with Misty. She's been around Star the longest."

"I'll go find her."

"Cowboy, can you head back to the strip club to talk with Bodhi? Have him text her to fire her ass, so we have written proof. See if he noticed anything off with her. Find out which employees she might have been friendly with. Ginger hooked her up with her new apartment. Start with her. Make sure he searches the employee lockers after closing tonight, too."

"Will do. I'll touch base if there's anythin' to report."

"Irish, unless Bull needs your help, I guess you can go back to doing whatever you were doing when Bull called you."

Bull laughed, and Irish flipped him off, then shrugged. "I was getting' ready to do Misty, so I guess I'm shit outta luck."

I winced. "Sorry, brother. I'll make my conversation with her as quick as I can, believe me. Ella's waiting on me, and I'm already late."

It was almost eight o'clock by the time I made it to Ella's house. Our talk with the bunnies hadn't yielded any results. They all denied knowing anything about Star being involved with drugs, or T-Bone. Trick and I both agreed that they seemed to be telling the truth.

I was pissed off, hungry, and mentally exhausted when I walked through the door. Ella was curled up on the couch, reading her Kindle, but she jumped up and gave me a hug when she saw me.

"I'm so glad you're here. I was beginning to worry. Is everything OK?"

"No, it's a fuckin' shitshow at the moment." I took my boots off and set them by the door, then slipped off my cut to drape it over the chair.

I spotted something shiny on the back of it, and realized it was glitter. I was confused as hell, until I remembered Ginger coming up behind me and trying to hug me at the club. Shit, the last thing I wanted to do tonight was explain to Ella why my cut was covered in fucking stripper glitter. I folded my cut over so the back was hidden, and hoped she wouldn't notice.

After I had a quick bite to eat, we headed upstairs. I jumped in the shower, letting the hot water pour over me to soothe my sore muscles. I walked back out of the bathroom ten minutes later to find Ella draped over the bed, wearing nothing but red lace and a smile.

Oh, fuck, yeah. My night just got a hell of a lot better.