Devil May Care (Four Horsemen MC Book 4) (3 page)

Things had really taken off, once the drug money had come in, but that’s what had ultimately led to the downfall of the club. And she’d been left with a husband in jail, an astronomical mortgage, legal fees she had no hope of paying, and two kids to raise by herself. 

When she’d finally raised the money to start Perdition, she’d been the only worker. Between the accounting, the bartending, and janitor duties, she’d barely seen her kids the first two years. She still felt guilty. Ryker and Axel had lost both parents for a while until the business took off. 

She finished the coffee, petted Ruby, and then headed for Hades, the club’s diner and hotel. It had a fifties vibe to it, which she loved. The floor was black and white, accented by the red vinyl-topped steel stools at the counter.  Texas memorabilia decorated the walls.

 She sucked in a breath when she saw Captain at the counter dressed in a pair of weathered jeans clinging to his body like a second skin. Why did the man have to be so damn attractive? He made her stomach flip like she was some sort of lovesick teenage girl. It was embarrassing. 

Today, he wore a black Ramones T-shirt underneath his Horsemen cut.  He had blond spiked hair, piercing blue eyes, and a black leather cuff around one wrist. He had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache.  And wore a pair of aviator glasses tucked into his hair. He had a thing for punk music–Billy Idol, Sid Vicious, The Clash. When he’d prospected for the club, he even wore safety pins all over his clothes. Thank God, he’d mostly moved out of his punk phase.

Captain was talking to Voodoo, one of the brothers who owned and operated Hades. Back in New Orleans, Voo had been a chef before Katrina came to town and washed half of it away. He’d moved to Texas to start over and joined the club.  He had warm mocha-colored skin, and silvery eyes. His dark hair was twisted into short dreadlocks, which came down just below his ears. Today, he wore the hell out of a red muscle shirt and a pair of black leather pants.

He glanced at her over Captain’s shoulder. “
Bonjour
,
mon ange
, you look delectable this morning.” Voo had a heavy Creole inflection, particularly when he spoke with women.  He knew the ladies love a man with an accent and he was an outrageous flirt. As she approached the counter, he held out his hand and she took it. He dropped a kiss over her knuckles.

Captain scowled at Voodoo. “Why you always gotta touch people?”

Eddie stifled a laugh.

“We should sit down,” Captain said tersely, steering her towards one of the booths.

“By all means. I’ll bring your breakfasts in a moment,” Voo said.

“Looks like we’re the first ones to arrive,” he remarked. “Shep and Frost should be along in a moment.”

She nodded. Frankly, she’d relax a bit when they got here. This felt like too much of a date. There were so many reasons to not pursue anything with him.

For one, this was a tight-knit group. If she dated him and it went to shit, it would divide the club. She knew the brothers would choose sides. And there were others, of course – the age gap, for one. And the most important reason, Joker. Letting another man into her life felt disloyal somehow.

A few minutes later, Voo appeared with their breakfasts. He usually never let you order in his restaurant. He preferred to bring something you would like and he was always right. She got a short stack of buttermilk pancakes with a side of turkey sausage, which she’d been craving, and Captain received an egg white omelet with dry wheat toast.

“What the fuck is this?” Captain said, peering at his plate.

Eddie cut into her pancakes like she didn’t have a care in the world. 

Lexie, Captain’s daughter, had called earlier in the week, concerned. The doctor said his cholesterol was a bit high. Captain ate most of his meals at the diner, so Eddie asked Voo to make some heart-healthy meals. 

Voo sighed. “I made you an omelet with green peppers, mushrooms, onion, and yogurt cheese.”

“What the fuck is yogurt cheese?”

Voo spoke to the president like he was the world’s stupidest five-year-old. “It’s
cheese
, made of yogurt.”

“Cheese should
never
be made of yogurt. Where’s the biscuits? The bacon? The sausage gravy?” He lifted the dish as though the high fat food had somehow slid beneath it. Then his eyes narrowed on Eddie. “You did this, didn’t you?”

She didn’t even bother trying to deny it.  “You bet your ass I did. According to your doctor, you need to eat better. Lexie told me all about it.”

His expression softened. “I shouldn’t have told her. Yeah, my cholesterol is up, but I’m not on death’s door or anything.” He groaned. “Fuck. I shoulda kept that shit to myself.”

“I’m glad you said something. You can’t eat like a teenager anymore.” She wagged a finger at him. “No more sausage. No more bacon. And you should eat something green and leafy now and then. You might live longer.”

 “It’ll just
seem
longer without bacon and biscuits,” he muttered.  Then, glanced down at her plate. “You could always give me a bite of yours.”

“It’s turkey sausage,” she said, with a hint of smugness.

“Ugh. No thanks.” Then, a small, pleased smile curled his lips. “But thank you for looking out for me.”

It was something a wife would do and she hadn’t even thought twice about it.
Damn.
“Yeah, well, anything for a friend,” she said airily.  

A big lie, right there. She had much more than
friendly
feelings for him. The attraction couldn’t be helped, but she didn’t have to act on it.  

He locked eyes with her. “Is that what I am, Eddie? A friend?”

“Of course,” she said quickly, trying to get past the awkward relationship talk. “And, if it helps, I feel your pain. Voo makes the best cathead biscuits in the state.” So-called because they were literally as big as a cat’s head.

Captain watched her, clearly not willing to laugh it off this time or pretend it wasn’t happening. His voice lowered. “I could be something more to you.”

She took a sip of coffee and glanced at the door, waiting for the cavalry to rescue her. They needed a buffer. Pronto.  
Where the hell was Shep?!

 “Well?” he asked. “What do
you
think?”

 “I think it’s time for Shep to arrive.”

As if bidden, Shepherd pulled into the parking lot.  She barely resisted the urge to pump her fist in the air. She owed that boy some homemade pie for his good timing. He cut the engine and loped in the door.

“Saved by the veep,” Captain quipped.

 Shep looked like shit. His jeans and shirt were rumpled and he had a day or two’s worth of stubble on his chin. Big purplish bags sat beneath his blue eyes. He looked like he could use a hot shower and maybe a week’s worth of sleep.

What the hell?

He slid into the booth beside her, and kissed her cheek. “Hey,” he mumbled.

“Mornin’, kid,” she said, brushing a lock of blond hair from his handsome face in a motherly fashion. While he wasn’t her actual son, he certainly felt like one.  Growing up, he’d spent a lot of time in her home and she loved him dearly.

Shep and Captain nodded to each other in greeting, then did a monosyllabic grunting thing, which she guessed passed for a hello in caveman land.

“And now that we’ve made nice. What the hell is going on with you?” she said, waving a hand at his clothing. “You look like you’ve been shot at and missed. Then, shit at and hit.”

“How’d you know? Got shit on this morning,” he said, deadpan.

She gritted her teeth. “I’m not in the mood for games. Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

“Nothing,” he said, setting his jaw.

“Fine, be stubborn. For now. But don’t think this is the last conversation we’ll have on the matter.”

Something was seriously wrong with Shepherd. He’d been slowly unraveling the past few weeks. Anyone with eyes could see it, but so far he’d kept it to himself. She was sick with worry.  Sooner or later he’d tell her, even if she had to yank it out of him.

He fired off a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Fetch, one of the prospects, came over to the table. “We got fresh donuts from Devilicious this morning. Want one?” he asked Shep.

Fetch had a lean and lanky build, with long red-hair he’d pulled back at the base of his neck. He had pale skin, which made Eddie wonder if he wore sunscreen all the time. The intense Texas sun turned everyone a shade of brown eventually.

Shep nodded. “Yeah. And I’d love a beer.”

The prospect’s eyes rounded, but he went off to retrieve the order.

“Beer for breakfast?” she asked, even more alarmed. He never drank in the morning.

“Don’t start.” He sighed. “I’ve built up a tolerance. It’s only one bitty beer.”

 “Are you hungover or what?” Captain asked.

He shook his head and then squinted at the president’s plate. “What the fuck is that shit?”

She rolled her eyes.  Well, he was damn good at diversionary tactics.

“Health food,” Captain growled, and then patted his stomach. “Do you know they make cheese out of yogurt?”

Shep blinked. “Why?”

“Fuck if I know, but I’m eatin’ it now. Apparently, I’m watchin’ my girlish figure.”

In her opinion, his figure was a little too fine.

“Watchin’ it do what?” Shep teased.

“Shut the fuck up,” Captain growled.

Fetch handed Shep his donut and beer, as Detective Frost walked in the door.

Frost had short strawberry blond hair, and some stubble on his sculpted chin. In his navy blue suit with recently shined shoes, he screamed wholesome, like he could star in a cereal commercial or something.

Eddie didn’t trust him, but then again, she didn’t trust lawmen in general. She’d been royally screwed by the feds and it made her uncomfortable that the club worked so closely with him.

Frost sat down next to Captain. “I got some bad news for you.”

 “You don’t say? What’s going on?” Captain asked.

“The FBI is coming to town and I’ve been assigned as their law enforcement liaison.”

Oh hell no!

The dismay must have shown on their faces, because he held out his hands. “They aren’t here for you, so don’t lose your shit yet. They’re after the Raptors, but your rivalry with them is bound to come up. You can bet your ass – they’re at least gonna question you, see if you had anything to do with the raid.”

“What raid?” Captain asked.

Frost snorted. “Don’t even bother to deny it. I know it was the club. The feds have a witness. She said another group of bikers stormed the brothel and shut it down. You’ll be the prime suspects.”

She rubbed her temples, feeling a migraine coming on.

“Fuck,” Shepherd said, then took a deep pull on the beer.

“I wanted to give you a heads up, so you can get it together. Also, I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention me. I don’t want the FBI crawling up my ass.” He sprung to his feet. “And, on that note, I’m off. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be seen with y’all until you get this under control.”

As soon as the cop left, Cap turned to Shepherd. “You and I need to do a couple of things before we roll out the federal welcome wagon.”

“And, uh,” he said, pausing to glance at Eddie, then back to Captain. “We need to take a road trip tonight.”

Captain dipped his head in agreement. “Contact the brothers. Tell ‘em we’re meeting in an hour. We gotta lot to discuss.”

Shep pulled his phone out and his fingers flew over the keyboard. “Already on it.”

She watched the interplay carefully. When the club had been deep into illegal activity, Joker had kept her completely in the dark.  While she was part of the club, she wasn’t a member.  And moments like this drove her right up the wall.

 Captain shared aspects of club business with her, and she appreciated it. They’d functioned as a team when the club had been ripped apart, but now and then, he’d be closed-lipped about something. Intuition said it was probably risky, which only made her more curious.

And anxious.

  “Anyone care to share?” she asked.

“Nope,” they said in unison.

Dammit.

***

After breakfast, Eddie jumped in the car and headed for Perdition. She didn’t feel sleepy anymore thanks to the coffee and food, so she might as well get some work done, but as she drove, her hands started to shake and dots danced before her eyes.

She pulled off onto the side of the road, cut the engine, and then rolled down the window. Eddie lit a cigarette with difficulty. God, she had a bad case of the shakes. She sucked in the smoke and blew it out slowly, leaning back against the seat and closing her eyes.

 
The FBI. Again.
 

She felt like she was caught in some sort of time loop. Only now, they’d be after her sons. She didn’t know if she could handle this shit a second time.  Joker being in jail had been horrible, but taking her boys? That might finally push her over the edge, drive her insane.

Through all the tragedy she’d experienced, she’d managed to hold it together, mostly because she had to. There hadn’t been time for a mental breakdown.

Unbidden, memories started to surface. The kind she tried hard not to dwell on, the ones she’d stuffed into boxes in her mind and labeled
Do Not Open
. But Eddie couldn’t help it right now. They broke open and once more she found herself waiting for Joker to come home, pacing the floor…

Thirty-eight hours and twenty-seven minutes.

That’s how long it had been since Joker left. Sure, sometimes twelve hours passed, sixteen. One time nearly twenty-four. But never this long. Something was wrong, very wrong.  She could feel it in her bones. Some would call it a sixth sense, but Eddie thought it was more of the common variety.

 It made the fine hairs on her arms stand up.

She’d poured herself a cup of coffee with a healthy shot of bourbon to calm her nerves, but it wasn’t doing much. Her anxiety level had been ratcheting up as the hours slowly ticked away. Last night, she was restless.  She never slept well without Joker at her side.