Page 18 of Drifter
“My father is a control freak. He didn’t like it when I left home. Hated it even more when I settled several towns away and out of his sight. He nearly lost his mind when I told him I was working, because that means he can’t hold the threat of money over my head. I specifically take jobs from overseas companies and hold them to a nondisclosure so that Dad won’t be able to convince them to cut me off. I was worried about it at one time, but I’ve done well for myself. I have this place paid for, and the rental that Etain is in. I’ve invested wisely and have a nest egg. Even if all that goes away, I’m not afraid of hard work. I’d wait tables or do whatever I have to, but I’ll never submit to my father again.”
As I speak my piece, I can feel my blood boiling. It’s yet another tactic to push my buttons and make me feel vulnerable.
“Damn straight, sunshine. Your father’s gone too far,” Drifter says angrily.
“What happened to the PI?”
He tilts his head to one side. Damn! I gave away that Declan told me what he knew. I don’t want to get him in trouble. “Don’t be mad at Declan.” I come up on my knees to get face-to-face with Drifter. “He didn’t have a choice. He was either going to pick me up and put me in here, which wasn’t going to go well because, for one, I’m not easy to carry. Secondly, I would have run right back out there and demanded to know what was going on. And?—”
Drifter presses two fingers over my lips. “Chill, babe. I’m not mad at Declan.” I lift my brows. “His job was to keep you safe and away from the door. I didn’t want the asshole to get near you. My brother did his job, and everything’s good.”
“Then what was that look?”
“You’re very calm, babe. I saw you get riled earlier at the mere mention of your father, and this time, you seem okay. I’m trying to figure it out,” he tells me honestly.
“My father is ten times worse than a PI. What’s a PI going to do? Tell him where I live? He already knows that. I don’t actually see what else he’s going to find out about my life.”
“I don’t like it. And when the PI goes back to your father, he’s going to be delivering a message from me, and that message is: Don’t fuck with my woman,” he says. “Now, I need to get back to work, but tonight, we’re gonna have another chat about your father. It’s almost time for your meeting. Declan is staying with you. I want him inside your house. Go about your business. He won’t bother you.”
“I’m sure Declan has better things to do,” I say, trying to be brave. I don’t admit it out loud, but I feel better having him with me.
“No, he doesn’t. He’s a prospect, and his job is whatever we decide it is. Believe me, he’s happy as a pig in shit doing what he’s doing. Lee is out picking up parts and running errands. He got the short straw today.” Drifter laughs.
His laugh makes me giggle, and suddenly, everything seems okay.
“I’m making key lime pie for dessert. Maybe I’ll make two and send one back with Declan, and he can share it with Lee and the others. As a thank-you,” I say.
“It’s not necessary. The guys think you’re the shit, and they understand what you mean to me. I told them earlier. But I’ll add, you give them pie and they’ll be putty in your hands,” he says with a chuckle. He stands and glances at his watch. “You better hurry. It’s almost three.”
I scramble off the bed and hurry to my office to turn on the computer, and while it does its thing, I race to the bathroom, brush out my hair, put on a touch of makeup, and run back in time to connect with my soon-to-be clients.
Drifter
That PI is lucky that all he got was a black eye and a sprained wrist, and the only reason his wrist is sprained is because he refused to give up his camera. One way or another, I was going to get that memory card. When he saw I meant business, he confessed pretty quickly to working for Sasha’s father. Her father was paying good money to find out about Sasha’s daily routine.
I fist the memory card in my hand, nearly crushing it, as I tell Hawk about the incident.
“Give it to me. We need to see what’s on it. It might give us an idea of what her father is looking to accomplish,” Hawk states. We walk into his office, where Etain is diligently working away on the shop’s financial accounts. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t even notice us. Hawk shakes his head with a grin as we move past her.
Hawk’s been talking about adding on an office for Etain but has been dragging his heels on doing something about it. I think he likes having his woman close and hopes Etain will forget he ever mentioned it when she first started working for the club. Personally, I don’t think Etain gives a shit because she likes being with Hawk as much as possible. They are sickeningly sweet together, and I’m happy as hell for both of them.
Hawk has made sacrifices to get our club off the ground. Not only financial, but personal ones as well. He prospected under Guard for a time, then spent the better part of two years finding a home for the club. He found a property and a town that we could afford, then raised the money to get the shop started, and finally renovated the shack that we called a clubhouse into a functioning, newly restored building for the men to call home.
We did a lot of the work ourselves, especially Hawk and me. Risk with Satan’s Pride has his own construction company, and he put together a plan and blueprints for the reno. He also got the materials at cost for us, which saved us a ton of money. We were four men in a room, some on cots and others in sleeping bags in the few functional rooms we could inhabit when we moved in. Now, each man has a space to call his own, and there is a large community room equipped with a pool table, dartboard, and big-screen television. Hawk has a private office at the very end of the hall across from the gym we just finished. The kitchen is the last room we tackled, mainly because we’re men and none of us loves to cook. We grill, so most nights we have burgers on the barbecue, but after a solid year of that, the kitchen became a must. We all take turns making breakfast in shifts. None of us are great chefs, but we manage scrambled eggs and bacon. Etain takes pity on us and often comes by early and makes us pancakes and includes fruit and vegetables in our meals.
The biggest treats, though, come from Sasha, whether she knows it or not. Before Etain and Hawk were a couple, Sasha would bring her car in for regular inspections, and along with her car, she would bring homemade muffins, cookies, and desserts of all kinds. The guys would pray her car would break down so she’d have an excuse to come in. In the lean years, we couldn’t afford to go to the diner all that often. Since Sasha and Etain have become friends, Sasha doesn’t come around but always sends treats in with Etain and Hawk.
Back then, Sasha was avoiding me as much as I was trying to ignore her. A futile effort on both our parts, because the more I tried to deny my feelings for her, the more frustrated I got. I was busy convincing myself that I wasn’t good enough for the sweet woman who is Sasha. I didn’t notice the hurt she was enduring. I’m still feeling the guilt of not having stepped in sooner to deal with her father.
“Are you ready?” Hawk asks, pulling my attention back to him as he loads the memory card into the drive.
“Yeah.” I take a breath and wait for it to load. As Hawk clicks through the photos, they seem innocent enough at first. There are pictures of Sasha walking in the streets of the town near the shops close to the garage. I recognize the local grocery store and photos of her coming and going. It’s not until we’re about twenty pictures in that I see photos of Sasha in her living room. Those aren’t too bad, but then it gets stranger. There are photos of her silhouette in her bedroom, where it’s clear she was changing for bed. Those are bad enough, but then I see close-up shots of her doors and locks and her window latches. “Fuck me!” I curse loudly.
This causes Etain to take notice of Hawk and me. She gets up from her desk and comes over to us. “What are you looking at? Porn?” she jokes. But as her gaze hits the screen, she sees what we see, and her face grows pale.
“Oh my God! Are they planning on kidnapping Sasha?” she whispers, her voice shaking.
“Over my dead body!” I exclaim. I turn to Hawk. “I gotta go upgrade her security.”
