Gentle Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 4) (13 page)

“Why?” Mac touched the back of his head carefully, felt the massive bump rising steadily. “So you could tell the cops you killed him in the middle of attempting to murder me?”

King shot him a startled look. “No way, man. The cops have got nothing to do with this.”

“Oh.” Mac paused. “So why?”

“It makes me a selfish bastard, I know, but it was for me.”

“For you?”

“Yeah. Trigger was a monster and we all know it, and I’ve killed plenty of men in my time, but I’ve
never
taken a life just for the hell of it. Not even the life of someone who fucking deserved to be wiped off the planet. I’ve always killed in self-defence or to save someone else from being killed.”

“And you needed to wait until I needed to be saved,” Mac said slowly. “Until Trigger was going to go too far.”

“Yeah. It was the only way that I’d be able to end his life and live with myself after.” King’s eyes were strangely vulnerable as he stared at his friend. “I’m sorry you had to suffer for my peace of mind and my conscience. Can you forgive me for that?”

“Of course I can. Fuck, Matt, I don’t want you to be haunted by anything that you do – most especially anything that you do for me. I like that you can draw the line the way that you do, that you can stop yourself from taking a miserable, pathetic life just because you can. It makes you a good man. Maybe the best man that I know.”

“Thank you,” King said softly. “And I’m glad you’re OK, Mac. You had me worried for a while there.”

“You were worried about
me
?” Mac said. “Damn, King, you should have been worried about Mirrie.”

“She’s fine,” King said quickly as he handed Mac a towel for his bloody face. “She’s sleeping and my team is standing right outside the door.”

“Nah, that’s not what I meant.” Mac pushed his hair back and grinned. “I meant that if anything had happened to me, you’d have had to deal with her. And man, you do
not
want to deal with Mirrie when she’s pissed at you.”

“I can well imagine.”

They gave each other real smiles, with real feeling, then turned their attention to Ace. They were gratified to see that he still looked stunned.

Ace stared at Jack pointing a gun at him, stared at Trigger’s dead body, stared at King as he peeled some rubber surgical gloves off his enormous hands. He didn’t have the first fucking clue what was going on here, but Ace assumed that he was going to be hitting the floor next.

“Ace.” King’s tone was cordial as he pocketed the gloves in his jeans. “You and I need to have a little chat.” He nodded at the chair that Mac had just vacated. “Take a seat.”

Ace stumbled over, sat heavily. He stared up at the other men now and waited.

“So here’s the deal.” King narrowed his eyes. “You just killed your President.”

“I
what
?” Ace jumped to his feet. “I – I didn’t kill him!”

“Ah.” King nodded at the gun on the floor next to Trigger. “But isn’t that your gun?”

Astonished, Ace looked down at the gun that he hadn’t laid eyes on in more than five years. His mouth dropped open and he lunged forward. Right away, Jack moved closer, his gun almost touching Ace’s forehead.

“Sit your ass down,” Jack commanded softly.

Ace did as he said, too shocked to stand anyway. “You – you shot Trigger with
that
gun?” he croaked out.

“No.” King smiled. “
You
shot Trigger with that gun. I mean, there’s only one set of fingerprints on the weapon. One guess who they belong to.”

“Oh, fuck.” Ace shook his head, disbelieving at just how much worse his night had managed to get. “Oh,
fuck
.”

“Indeed,” Mac commented, removing the towel from his still-bleeding mouth for a second. “I’d say that sentiment is apt.”

“Now, this whole situation can go one of two ways,” King said. “You ready to hear what they are?”

Ace nodded.

“OK, good. So first: we’ll make an anonymous phone call to the cops and tell them about the tragic and mysterious death of yet another MC President. We’ll also very helpfully tell them where Trigger’s body is. We’ll bug out, the cops’ll turn up here, find the gun and the dead body. In the meantime, we’ll have dropped you off smack in the middle of a nearby field and we’ll make damn good and sure that you’re hurt too bad to run anywhere fast. We’ll call the cops again and inform them of your whereabouts and – if the mood strikes us – we may
also
decide to call your clubhouse and fill your brothers in regarding your activities tonight. Then we’ll sit back and watch to see who shows up to get you first. One way or the other, you’ll be dragged off kicking and screaming and if you see the sunrise tomorrow, I’d call that nothing short of a miracle. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Pale, sick, Ace nodded again.

“
Or
.” King crossed his arms. “You can haul ass out of here and go on back to your clubhouse and wait for the news that Trigger’s body has turned up. Then, after an appropriately angry response that should include some gnashing of teeth and hollering about revenge, you’ll take over as MC President.”

The silence in the room was absolute. Ace stared fixedly at King, sure that he hadn’t heard him right. King stood there patiently, waiting for Ace to speak first.

“I don’t –” Ace cleared his throat. “I don’t understand.”

“Want me to explain the two options again?” King said, almost kindly. “I can use smaller words.”

“No, I mean... I don’t understand why you’re helping me.”

“
Helping
you?” King’s mouth curled up in disgust. “I’m not the slightest bit interested in helping you, you piece of human garbage.”

Ace paused. “So... so you want something from me, then.”

“Now you’re catching on,” King said.

“What? What do you want?”

“C’mon, Ace, you’re a smart guy.” King cocked his head. “Smarter than Trigger, anyway, though that ain’t hard to do. What do you
think
I want from you?”

Ace shook his head. “I really don’t know.”

“So let me clue you in, then,” King said. Slowly, deliberately, he walked closer to Ace and the smaller man shrank back. Matt Kingston angry was an awesome sight to behold, Ace was horrified to discover now. That huge body suddenly took up all the available space in the room, that hard face was devoid of any human kindness or compassion. Ace knew – knew in every inch of his trembling body – that he was staring at a man who’d snap his neck without a second thought... snap it and maybe even enjoy it. Ace was a bad man and King would take great delight in ridding the world of his odious presence; he’d probably never think of Ace again after he did it.

King stopped, regarded Ace’s terrified face. “You listening close now?”

Ace nodded, his throat jammed closed with fear.

“I want you to understand one thing, and one thing only.” King’s glare burned right through him. “I want you to understand that from now on, I
own
you.”

Mac grinned.
This
was the moment that he’d been waiting for.

“I’m so fucking sick of your goddamn MC,” King said softly. “I’m sick of you boys messing around in my life, and the lives of people that I care about. Donovan Kane shot me and held a knife to Sarah’s throat, and you dickheads buried Gabi alive and shot Aidan, you tried to kill Dillon and Maria, you tried to kill Mirrie, and now... now you’re going after Mac and Mirrie just because they want to be together? Well, I’ve had
more
than enough of your crap and since I own you, you’re gonna cut it all out and I mean starting right this minute.”

It was all starting to sink in for Ace, the other men saw. Their faces set, they waited some more.

Finally, he spoke. “You – you want to control the Fallen Angels through me.”

“
There
we go!” Jack said brightly. “
Now
we’re all on the same page.”

“You want me to stop working with Kirk Jensen, don’t you? You want me to take the club legit, right? Like Wolf Connor’s doing with the Road Devils?”

“Nope,” King said, surprising Ace. “No, I want you to keep your hands dirty with Jensen. You keep right on running his drugs and trafficking his sex workers and taking his contract kills and moving kidnapped kids for him.”

“But?” Ace said.

“But you tell me every move that asshole makes,” King said. “You share with me everything he tells you. Every name, every job, every place he’s got women and kids and drugs stashed. Everything you do for him and everything you decide to do on your own.”

“Jensen’ll figure it out,” Ace said, his lips numb with terror. “He’ll know that he has a traitor inside when jobs start going belly-up.”

“Then you’d better hope that you’re a good liar, Ace.” King’s face was granite. “If it makes you feel any better, I already know that you are. I
know
that your whole damn life is one huge lie.”

Ace looked up at him, wondering if King was talking about Spider.

“Yeah,” King said. “Yeah, I know all about him. He gave me the gun and we talked and he really seems to be a decent guy. What the hell he was doing with you, I’ll never understand.”

Ace shut his eyes, feeling oddly near tears.

“So I think you’ll be fine on the whole ‘lying to protect yourself’ front,” King told him. “Especially since any slip-ups will end with you hanging from a bridge somewhere with your insides on the outside. That’s a powerful motivator, yeah?”

Ace flinched. “Y – yes.”

“OK! So!” King clapped his hands together and Ace jumped. “You can just roll on out of here. Go back to your clubhouse and say that you had motorcycle trouble and you were waiting on word from Trigger about where to meet to kill Mac and where’s Trigger and blahblahblah. Don’t get drunk and don’t say one word to anyone.”

“I won’t. What about Joker, though? He’s waiting to grab the girl.”

“You heard Trigger, man. Joker’s waiting on his Prez’s call – a call that just isn’t going to come now, is it? So in about twenty minutes,
you
call him instead, ask him where Trigger is. Sound worried. Ask him to stand down for now. You’re VP, man, he’ll listen to you.”

“And soon enough word about Trigger being dead will get out and he’ll leave the apartment building,” Ace said slowly. “She’ll never know he was there.”

“See?” King put the gloves back on now, picked up the gun. “I
told
you that you were smart.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Ace asked him. “The gun?”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” King said. “It’ll be someplace very safe. It won’t turn up unless I want it to.” He smiled. “So don’t make me want that, OK?”

“OK,” Ace muttered.

King nodded at Jack, who put a surgical glove on his right hand. He then produced a cell from his jeans pocket, handed it over to Ace.

“Jack here’ll be your direct contact with King’s Men,” King explained. “Keep this burner on you at all times and you answer it when it rings. No bullshit excuses, no avoiding Jack’s calls. You two will meet when and where he says and you’ll be punctual and polite at all such meetings. You’ll answer every single one of his questions honestly and fully. If you don’t or if you lie, he’ll know, believe me, and he’ll tell me that you’re being difficult to get along with. Then? I’ll be very angry with you. Maybe even angry enough to let something slip in the wrong company. We clear?”

“Yes.” Ace stared at the ground, already feeling like he was suffocating. “Yes, I understand everything.”

“Awesome.” King looked over at Mac. “Anything to add, man?”

Mac had observed King demolish Ace with pure, unadulterated enjoyment. He grinned at his friend and shook his head. “No, I’m good. I just want to get home to Mirrie.”

“Hospital first,” King said. “We need to get you checked out.” When Mac opened his mouth to protest, King cut him off. “Shut it, MacIntyre, we’re going. Mirrie’s sleeping and she thinks you’re on a red eye to New Orleans right now. A few more hours aren’t going to make any difference and you know it.”

“Yeah.” Mac realized that, as always, King was bang-on correct. “Yeah, OK. The hospital.”

“I’ll take you myself,” King said. “As soon as Honey and Knox get here to back up Jack. The three of them will be escorting Ace back to his clubhouse. Just in case he gets any bright ideas, you know.”

“No need,” Ace protested. “I mean, you’ve got me by the fucking balls, man... I ain’t going anywhere
but
to the clubhouse. You can call off the security detail.”

“Well, maybe think of it as a private escort service,” King said jovially. “One worthy of a future President.”

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, Mirrie was drinking a cup of coffee and trying to think just where the hell she’d put her cell phone
this
time when she heard keys in the lock. Startled, she jumped to her feet. When Shane walked in and she saw his face, she gave a sharp cry.

“Shane!” She rushed over to him, took in his battered face. “What happened? Are you OK?”

“Hey, babe.” He set his duffel bag down on the floor with a grimace. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What – what the hell?” She shook her head, bewildered. “Why aren’t you in New Orleans?”

“It’s a long story, Mirrie.” Mac shrugged off his jean jacket and winced. “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah.” She took his hand and led him over to the sofa slowly, saw how he was limping. “Or maybe you want to lie down?”

“No, I’ve been on my back at the hospital all night.” He sat with a groan. “I’d rather sit up.”

“You’ve been in the hospital? All night?” Now her eyes were showing a flash of hurt. “And you didn’t call me?”

“No, babe. I’m sorry, but I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Her tone was measured but he sensed the growing confusion and anger behind it. “What have you been up to?”

Mac paused now, suddenly terrified and on unknown ground. Jack had successfully predicted and manipulated every move in this twisted, fucked-up chess game, but from here on in, Mac had no clue what might happen. He was sure that Mirrie was going to be angry –
no, scratch that… she’s gonna be furious
– that he’d done all of this without including her. But what was she going to do and say when she was angry? Was she going to be able to get past his lies and everything that he’d withheld? Was she going to understand and forgive him this time?

I’m not counting at it. At least not at first. Brace yourself, man.

“I have to tell you something, babe,” he said calmly. “You’re going to be as pissed off as hell about it and I get that, OK? But I want you to please promise me something.”

“What?”

“Promise me that you’ll let me talk. Let me explain everything and then when I’m done, you can shout at me for as long as you want. Just let me get everything out before the shouting starts. Alright?”

She was very pale. “I hate the sound of this already.”

“I know, babe. I’m sorry.”

“So, talk, Shane.” She moved away from him a bit and his heart hurt to see her already withdrawing. “I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut until you’re done. Beyond that, I’m not promising you anything.”

“I know.” He swallowed hard, prepared himself for her rage and hurt. “I don’t expect you to.”

“What
do
you expect?”

Mac paused again. “I expect the worst.”

**

Forty minutes later, Mac finally stopped talking and looked across the room at Mirrie. Thirty minutes before, she’d stood up and moved away from him without a word. He’d watched her go, already afraid that she was lost to him.

He’d carried on, though, told her everything. When he’d reached in to his duffel bag and pulled out her cell phone and explained that they hadn’t wanted her brother to have any way to contact and torment her, her eyes had filled up with tears for the first time. He’d stood up then, made a move to hold her, but she’d pushed him off and turned her back on him. Still without a word.

“Mirrie?” His voice caught as he spoke now. “You OK?”

She gave a shaky laugh. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“I’m sorry.” He said it for about the fiftieth time. “I’m so sorry.”

Mirrie faced him now. “So everyone knew about this, huh? King and his team and you and Spider. What about Jax and Aidan? Naomi?”

“No,” Mac said. “No, we didn’t tell them anything.”

“Why not?” Her lip curled up. “You don’t trust
them
either?”

“Babe, this isn’t about trust…”

“Of
course
it is!” Her voice rose now. “You didn’t trust me to play the part. Didn’t trust me to stay calm and cool when it all went down!”

“No.” He spoke forcefully. “
No
. We wanted to spare you from being afraid or worried.”

“That’s my right, Shane. It’s my right to be afraid or worried when the man that I love is voluntarily placing himself in harm’s way. It’s my right to sit up all night and pace and fret and bawl. You had no right –
none
– to take it away from me.”

“Babe –”

“No.” She pressed her lips together, crossed her arms. “I’m not a goddamn child who needs to be placated and given pats on the head.
You
don’t get to decide what
I
can and can’t know about, especially when it directly affects me. Affects us.”

Mac was silent. She was right and he knew it; he’d known it from the beginning. And he’d done it anyway.

"I just can't believe you'd take such a fucking stupid risk!" she burst out. "I walked away from you to keep you alive, Shane... I gave up being with you to keep you safe. And then you just turn around and walk smack in to danger? Just hand yourself over to the
very same people
I fought to keep from killing you? How could you treat my sacrifice so cheap?"

"No. Mirrie, no. I
don't
treat it cheap, not at all. I –"

“This is hands-down the most appallingly sexist thing I’ve ever seen,” Mirrie interrupted him, catching him by surprise yet again at the abrupt change in topic. “The weak, stupid woman who can’t be told the cold, hard truth? The big, strong men out there dealing with all the ‘men’s business’ while the clueless little woman sleeps through the whole thing? And now – what? I’m supposed to be
grateful
that you tough men just took care of everything for me? You show up here all proud of yourself for sorting out my problems and what – you want me to open my legs as a thank you, Shane?”

“Hey.” Mac was astonished at just how badly this was going. It was far,
far
worse than he’d imagined it. “That’s not –”

“It
is
. It sure as
hell
is.” She glared at him. “You treated me like an idiot, Shane. You lied to me and you hid things from me. And all this, after we promised to be honest with each other!”

“It’s the last time.” He was pleading now. “I promise that I’ll never again keep anything from you.”

“Yeah, like I’m supposed to believe
that
?” She shook her head and went to the front door.

Alarmed, Mac moved closer. “You’re not leaving?”

“Of course I am.” Mirrie put on her sandals and grabbed her purse. “I’m not staying here with you.”

“Can I call you later?”

“Fuck you.”

“Mirrie, please…”

“No.” She wrenched the door open. “Stay the hell away from me, Shane.”

“I did it for us,” he said softly. “So we could be together and we could be safe. Why did I go through all of that if only to lose you in the end?”

She shot him a look so full of anger, he took a step back.

“That was
your
choice, Shane,
your
choice to do things this way. But, hey. At least you got one. Me? I had
no
choices whatsoever in this whole fucking thing. Not until now, anyway.”

The door slammed behind her and Mac sank down on to the sofa, sucking in deep breaths.

She’s safe, at least and at last. So it wasn’t all for nothing, man. It just
feels
that way right now.