“I can’t believe she’s gone,” I whispered, without knowing I was speaking my thoughts.

My father crossed the room, pulled me into a hug, then led me to the couch. Once there he tucked me under his arm and let me cry a bit through my confusion. When I was mostly finished, he handed me a box of tissues and patted my hand.

“I’ve already purchased our plane tickets and called Kip Sylvester at the school to explain things. We’ll leave tomorrow morning. Your momma will need your help.”

I nodded numbly. “Yeah. Thank you. That makes sense.”

My daddy stirred a bit in his seat, then leaned away. I sensed his eyes on me so I lifted my gaze.

After a long moment he said, “This might be unseemly to discuss before your aunt is laid to rest, but I think I need to warn you about something before we get to Texas.”

“Warn me? About what?”

I watched as my daddy gathered a deep breath, then released it slowly. His words were halting as he said, “The thing is, Jessica…your aunt Louisa… she was your…well, she was very wealthy. And you spent a lot of time with her, more than anyone else. I think you need to prepare yourself for a significant inheritance.”

“Uh…what?”

If possible, my father looked even more mournful as he explained, “Your momma has seen the will. Baby girl, I don’t know how else to break this to you, but Louisa left you everything. She left you the house, her engineering patents, the farm, and all her money. We’re talking several million dollars.”

CHAPTER 18

“I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.”

― Herman Melville

 

~Duane~

We were cutting it close.

After dropping Jess off, I drove back to the house and jumped into Beau’s car. He’d been waiting for me, sitting in the dark, inside his red 1967 Pontiac GTO, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. I knew we were running late. If we were lucky we’d arrive at the meeting spot just on time.

Jessica James was distracting. She’d been occupying my thoughts with more and more frequency. And now I was making new plans. These plans only served to increase my level of distraction. Showing Jess the cabin hadn’t been premeditated. But when I realized I would need to borrow Billy’s truck in order to take her home, I’d exploited the opportunity.

“Smart move, taking Billy’s truck.” My twin checked his rearview mirror as we pulled onto Moth Run, the paved road adjacent to our property. “The Order knows not to come within ten feet of Billy, no way in hell they’d follow his truck.”

I nodded, because it had been a smart move. But I didn’t share that avoiding the Order hadn’t been my only reason for taking the truck. But avoiding the Order was the reason I hadn’t given the Mustang back to Jessica yet.

Both Beau and I were quickly proven right about taking Billy’s truck when four motorcycles separated from the darkness and easily caught up with Beau’s Pontiac.

“These guys are so stupid.” Beau’s face was twisted with irritation and impatience, an unusual expression for him. “What do they think we’re going to do? Try to leave town undetected in my red GTO? Everyone knows this is my car. What a bunch of morons.”

Before I could add a layer of colorful trash-talk, my cell rang.

“Who is it?” Beau’s eyes flickered between me and the road.

“I don’t know. I don’t recognize the number.”

Beau glanced at the screen then back out the windshield. “It might be Repo. He uses burners.”

Burners, of course, being disposable cell phones thrown away before they can be traced.

Figuring Beau was probably right, I swiped my thumb across the screen and answered, “What?”

“You’re finally leaving the house.” Repo’s raspy voice emerged from the other end.

“Yeah, so?”

“So, you’re late.”

“Not yet.”

Repo chuckled. “I guess you still have a few minutes. While I have you, why don’t you tell me what Claire McClure was doing at your house earlier?”

I frowned and answered automatically and truthfully. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t see Claire at the house.”

“Our boys saw her pull into your drive around five this evening, and then leave a few minutes later. You know her daddy is my president, right? I don’t think he’d like one of you Winston boys messing with his daughter.”

“Like I said, I didn’t know she was there. What and who my brothers do is none of my business, and it ain’t yours either. And why are your recruits watching our house?”

I knew I was being followed, but I didn’t know the Order was watching the house. And I wasn’t going to volunteer that Claire must’ve been the one to drop off Jessica. Given the fact the Order had at least our driveway under surveillance, I was relieved Jess hadn’t driven over on her own. If she’d borrowed her daddy’s car I was certain I would now be getting shit from Repo about my relationship with the Sheriff’s daughter. Again.

I’d been avoiding her for the last few days for this very reason, hoping they’d stop shadowing me after tonight’s meeting.

Instead of answering my question, Repo lowered his voice and said, “None of your brothers better be doing anything with Claire. That girl is the property of the Order.”

My instinct was to argue, point out that Claire McClure hated them almost as much as we did, and would raise hell if she heard anyone say she was property.

Instead, I fought my urge to throw the phone out the window or smash it against the dashboard. “I have to talk to your ugly face in ten minutes, so I’m hanging up now.”

And I did.

Beau smirked at me. “I fucking hate that guy.”

“Nothing to like,” I agreed, my tone flat, still tempted to beat the shit out of my phone. Something needed to be smashed.

“Tina returned any of your calls yet?”

I shook my head, deciding to place the phone in the glove box, out of my reach. “No. Just text messages telling me to bring you to the Pink Pony. You?”

“Nope. I figure she wants us to go to the club and have a chat in person.”

I glanced out the side mirror at the four motorcycle headlights and flexed my jaw. “I think so, too. We’ll have to pay a visit.”

“Tomorrow night, you think? Or Friday?”

I shrugged. Either would work. Since Tina wouldn’t return my messages with anything other than invitations to watch her dance, I’d called Hank Weller, the owner of the Pink Pony, and asked for Tina’s schedule. She was no longer stripping Sunday through Thursday, only on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Hank also volunteered that she’d been spending more and more time at the Dragon Biker Bar, entertaining the Order.

At this point I wasn’t convinced she’d help us at all. Her loyalty might rest firmly with the bikers—what little loyalty she had. Still, it was worth a shot to feel her out, see if she’d be willing.

“You ready to do this?” To anyone else, Beau would probably sound like his normal, good-humored self. To me, his levity sounded fake, forced, a cover for anger and determination.

“I’m ready.”

I wasn’t nervous or afraid, these morons didn’t scare me. They pissed me off. And I was ready for this annoying game to be over.

***

As soon as we pulled up to the meeting spot—an abandoned barn about three miles from the Dragon Biker Bar—bikers swarmed our car and “escorted” us inside. Repo was sitting calmly by the door. Dirty Dave was pacing the dirt floor. In total, there were ten of them and two of us.

I sized each one up with detachment and decided, if all six of us Winston boys had been present, we’d likely be evenly matched.

“You ain’t stupid, but you’re reckless. Which can be difficult to tell apart, especially when the end result is the same.” Repo greeted me with these words, not standing as we entered. His expression was outwardly friendly, but I could see simmering anger behind his black eyes. He didn’t like that I’d hung up on him and I couldn’t bring myself to care.