17. The Interrogation

Chapter 17

The Interrogation

S abre

No sooner had my brother burst into the kitchen than he was gone in a flash.

Grace was laughing as she turned back towards me. Stealing a kiss, I held her hand and led her out to the food line. I couldn't believe the girls could work together. There was always friction between the club girls and the hang-arounds looking to catch a brother. It made me wonder how much they'd actually listened to Grace, or if she'd really strong-armed them.

They'd arranged tables in a row, creating a buffet line from both sides, even setting up the rest of the tables so that everyone could sit together. Putting Grace in front of me, I silently awaited our turn.

I noticed Grace had only grabbed a small scoop of eggs and two strips of bacon. I didn't think that was enough, considering she was eating for two, and I put two more strips of bacon on her plate.

I watched as she threw them back in the pan. I grabbed them again and put them back on her plate. "You need to eat, and that doesn't look like it's enough."

"I can't have extra bacon. It'll give me heartburn," she said as she threw them back in the pan again. She suddenly grabbed the hand that wasn't holding my plate and held it to her belly. I could feel just the slightest bit of pressure. The baby was kicking.

"See!" she said happily. "He agrees." She was still holding my hand to her when she looked down at her protruding belly. "Tell Daddy we like bacon. but it doesn't like us. He worries too much." There, in front of the bacon, she made my heart stop. She looked up, quickly kissed me, and moved down the line like nothing had happened.

She didn't realize what she had said, but I treasured it. It was the first time she had accepted my claim on them. No matter what happened, that was the moment they were officially mine.

I caught my brother's eye. Pretty was already sitting at the table with two full plates in front of him. He made sure Grace wasn't watching when he wound his fingers into a heart shape. Pretending to pump his heart over his t-shirt, my brother gave her his seal of approval and teased me in the same motion.

My eyes circled around the room, and every brother that I landed on gave me a sign that they approved. Damn. I was going to have to hold it together or risk being called a pussy. She had wrecked me with one word. Daddy.

Breakfast continued on as if we did this every day. The brothers were joking with each other, and the girls interjected here and there. It was light-hearted after such a heavy church. I sat back in my chair, drinking my coffee, and took it all in. Grace even joined the conversation every now and again.

Eventually, the girls who had stayed overnight cleaned up the food and took off. Our club girls knew it was time to go and made excuses to head towards their rooms. Grace was the only woman left, and as she stood from the table, I placed my hand on top of hers.

"Mama, we need to talk."

"Oh, so is this the part where they interrogate me?" She'd turned to face me, but her expression was earnest. She really believed the brothers would question her, when in reality, I needed her help.

"What are you talking about? I asked her.

"Well, you said they wanted to meet me. I have been waiting for the inquisition." She shrugged.

I must have looked at her funny because she continued to ramble. "You know? Where they rapid-fire questions at me. Yes. No. To get to the other side. "

The brothers chuckled at her antics. If the rambling hadn't given it away, I just had to look into her eyes to know she was serious. She thought she wasn't good enough for me, and I'd kill Matt for that, given the chance.

She turned towards the brothers at the table. "It's okay. I am ready." She squared her shoulders like she was going into battle. This wasn't what I had meant, but I'd let it play out for now.

Once the brothers clued in, they started aiming questions in her direction. Birthday? Natural hair color? Shoe size? Bra size? Did the curtains match the drapes? Most of them were just stupid, but it was breaking the ice, so I didn't put a stop to it. She had a smile throughout the ordeal, so as long as she was good, I was good.

It wasn't until my brother piped up that the questions took a different turn.

"What's going on with your divorce?" Pretty asked, his arms crossed over his chest and his elbows planted firmly on the table.

"I hired a lawyer that has a personal vendetta against Matt, so he's motivated to make sure that this goes through. As far as I know, the county sheriff served Matt right after I moved out, but he won't sign. His lawyer keeps sending back unreasonable demands. Even if I agree with one of them, he just updates it to something even more asinine."

"What happens if you never get a divorce?" Pretty slid his elbows forward so that he was leaning over the table.

"I don't know," she said. "I have never thought that it wouldn't go through, eventually." They stared at each other, both losing the previous humor. "My marriage is over, Pretty."

They continued to stare at each other.

"Ask me what you really want to know," she said.

"What happens when that baby comes, and you decide club life is beneath you? Or Matt comes to his senses and tries to win you back? I won't let my brother suffer." There was movement underneath the table, and Pretty winced .

"Matt's not coming, and even if he did, I wouldn't go back. However, this is his child, and even though I am fighting for sole custody, I don't know what will happen," she answered. They were still staring at each other.

She surveyed the brothers around the table. Crossing her arms and laying her elbows on the table, she mirrored Pretty's position as she went down the table. "I have no clue what club life entails. If I do something wrong, all I ask is that you tell me. I don't mean any harm. I just don't know. Like I know that you've been calling me Flo, and I do not know why." There was a chuckle around the table, and I felt myself smiling. "Is someone going to clue me in?" Grace prodded gently.

The chuckles escalated to a low roar as the brothers laughed and ribbed each other. There were even a few comments directed at me to "clue her in."

"Mama," I said, getting her attention. I pointed to the President patch on my club cut. "President."

She stared at me as if I had two heads and was speaking a foreign language. "Okay, you're president, but what does that have to do with me?" She was skeptical, and her brow puckered.

I ran my fingers through my hair to avoid reaching out and grabbing her. She was adorable in her confusion, and I really wanted to take her upstairs and break my promise to the baby. "The president's woman is usually called the First Lady. You're mine." I watched as she worked through the implication.

"I understand now why this is so important." She looked at Pretty. "I can't promise I won't hurt him. I can't promise he won't hurt me. However, there will be speed bumps along the way, some bigger than others. I am politely asking you to butt out, and that goes for all of you. Stay out of it." She took a drink of water, and as I looked at my brothers around the table, I knew she had earned their respect like the First Lady she was.

My brother didn't know when to stop. When he had first started his line of questioning, I'd allowed it. I'd thought that they were questions that the club would need to hear to further accept Grace into the fold. I would have never forced her to answer, but as long as they weren't too awful, I'd let it continue. I didn't want any lingering resentment.

"What happens if Matt wants all the money and gives up the baby? You going to sponge off my brother?"

Pretty was my brother, and even though he was a pain in the ass on a good day, this went beyond my brother trying to protect me from a gold digger, which Grace wasn't. I wondered if something was going on with him I didn't know about.

"You can't be serious," she said.

"Like a heart attack."

I was about ready to step in, but Grace placed her hand over mine. She never looked at me, but her message was clear. Let her handle this. I scraped my thumb under her palm, and we disconnected.

"I actually had a business prior to being a trophy wife. I am not a dumb blonde, and I have money set aside that Matt doesn't have access to. If he were to take everything, I can rebuild without your brother's help. Did you know he gives me money each week? Not because I ask for it, but because it makes him feel better. It's all currently sitting in a freezer bag in a duffel I have packed for emergencies. Now, I have a question for all of you," she said. She wasn't backing down either. I was proud of her, but this was my family. I didn't want them at odds with each other.

She stared at Pretty and then let her gaze move to each brother. "There's no denying that this is my child. Let's assume, in a few years, Sabre knocks me up. Will you treat my child any less than you'll treat his? That's a deal breaker for me."

I waited with bated breath for their responses. I had assumed that when I claimed Grace's baby as my own, the club would automatically recognize him as my son. The Iron Shield was a family, and I hadn't considered that the club might treat my biological children differently in the future. My brother's questions had opened up a canyon-sized hole I hadn't thought about or prepared for .

Pretty had become the spokesperson for the brothers. He leaned forward again so that more of his upper body was on the table. Staring at Grace, he smiled. "I have conditions." There was another movement underneath the table. Wreck was trying to save my brother. "You make me the favorite brother-in-law. Grizz ain't shit."

Grizz's nostrils flared at that.

"You make sure that my brother is a much happier person." He wiggled his eyebrows and stuck his tongue in his cheek. If Grizz didn't get to him first, he was a goner if I caught him.

"You make me potato salad at least once a week with my name on it."

***

Grace

I hoped I had addressed their concerns, but I refused to back down anymore. I didn't think I had been disrespectful, but I also had been very clear about my stance. If I'd let them push me around, they would have always thought they could get away with anything. Those days were long gone.

I understood Pretty's concerns. If the roles had been reversed, I would have liked to think that the new me would have asked Meredith's partner the same thing. I wasn't upset, but I could tell that he had put some thought into this, and I didn't want trouble. He wasn't the only one. They were protecting their president. I could respect that, but I wasn't a gold digger. Maybe I should have moved here sooner so that they could get used to our situation. It was too late now.

Sabre took over the conversation, and I was grateful when he steered it away from the twenty questions. "That was interesting, but it wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about," he said to me. He slid forward in his chair and reached for his back pocket. Pulling out a few papers, he laid them in front of me. "Do you recognize any of these men?" he asked me .

I picked up the papers, scanning each page before flipping to the next one. They were printouts of state licenses. I sat them back down on the table and asked, "Do you know what Matt does exactly at the bank?"

I looked at Sabre, and he was watching me. He hunched in his seat, ready to spring into action like a lion. "Walk us through it," Sabre said. "Please."

"Matt is the head sales agent for the entire bank. He originally started with minor projects such business renovations, new equipment, things like that. He eventually went into large-scale projects, including land buying and new construction. It wasn't uncommon for him to close at least one multi-million dollar deal a week. He's that good. The bank didn't care how he came by the contracts, so he would take prospective clients out to dinner, drinks at a bar, or even invite them to the house for a dinner party. Anything he needed to close the deal."

I picked up the pictures of three of the men. "He invited these men for a home-cooked meal. Matt told me they lived in Mexico but they had been working on this project with him and hadn't been home in months. They missed ‘real' food. I made their acquaintance, and they brought their wives. The deal was supposed to close the next day, so Brandon and Meredith were there as well." I placed my hands on my belly, trying to hold us together.

"What is it, mama?" Sabre always picked up when I was in distress.

"That dinner was the same night." I took a quick peek at him, but he hadn't put it together. "It was the same night," I emphasized.

"Aw, fuck." Now he understood. Matt had taken the couples out to a local bar for after-dinner drinks, but I had stayed home. When he had come back, he was so excited that things had gone well. He had led me upstairs to our bedroom to celebrate. I hadn't known Matt was drunk. I also hadn't known I had been the wrong woman.

"It gets worse," I told them. Picking up another picture, I said, "This is the man that I introduced myself to at the restaurant the night I caught Clara and Matt. This deal fell through, and that's the one Matt was screaming about on the driveway. I don't know what happened. "

There was uneasiness surrounding the table, when Cyph piped up from halfway down. "I do. The deal fell through on Friday night, and the bank received an anonymous email with a video. They canned him on Monday morning."

"What video?" I asked. Dread settled in my stomach.

"The one that's on your phone," Sabre answered.

I turned towards him. "How did they get it from my phone? You're the only person who knew it existed."

"Another mystery. You'll have to give your phone to Cyph, so he can check it for a tracker."

"Is this Matt?" I asked. This didn't feel like something Matt would do, but I hadn't really known my husband in the last few years.

Sabre reached for my hand and interlocked our fingers. "I wouldn't normally tell you this, but you're involved. There are more pieces, but we don't know how they connect." His thumb tried to soothe my panic. My chest felt tight, and I was taking fast, shallow breaths. "Your cousin Clara is working at our strip club."

"Clara?"

He nodded in agreement, shocking me. "She told my former manager that she was running from an abusive boyfriend. She was afraid that he would find her, and she needed money."

"That's a joke. Clara has never worked a day in her life. My aunt and uncle pay for all of her bills, and she gets an allowance." I tried to take deep breaths, but nothing was working.

"The other problem is these men." He pointed to the pictures on the table. "We know them as cartel members. They've been visiting our strip club."

"Cartel? Like drug lords and big guns?" I was freaking out. These connections all had one person in common: Matt. What had he gotten us into?

"We need info," Sabre told me. "Cyph's going to check your phone, and we'll have to work our connections to see if there's anything unusual. This isn't a coincidence, as much as I would like to think it is."

"Do you have a phone I can use?" I asked .

"What do you need?"

"I need to speak to Meredith, and it can't wait until tomorrow. She has the phone numbers for the wives that were at that dinner. I don't know if she still speaks to them, but I can't have her in danger."

"Is there anyone else that bitch is talking to she shouldn't?" Grizz was hot, and he was two seconds from jumping out of his chair.

"She's hurt," I said. It was a weak excuse. My sister had made questionable decisions ever since our family argument. However, she was still my sister, and I would not let Grizz speak badly of her.

"She's a brat. She only thinks of herself, and she's going to do something stupid that puts someone else in jeopardy. More than likely, you. That shit never falls on the dumbass it's supposed to."

He was right, and I didn't have an answer for it.

"I'll try to get a hold of her," I repeated.

"She's got less than an hour to contact someone, or I am going to go get her. If she can't keep her mouth closed, then she can be a prisoner here."