Ridge Creek (24 page)

Still staring at me with blank eyes, I watch as he sighs and
his face relaxes.  “I’m not pissed off.”

“You look pissed off.”

Slowly  squeezing his eyes shut, he draws a deep breath
before announcing, “This is new.”

“What’s new?” I ask confused at where the conversation is
sidetracking off to this time.

“This,” he says removing a hand from my hip and pointing
back and forth between us.  “Honesty.  No secrets. Care.”

“Care?” Now I’m even more confused.

“Care,” he murmurs as I feel his other hand soften against
my hip as his thumb starts to rub gentle circles against my hipbone.  “For some
reason I give a fuck what you think.  I care.  It’s new.  Never gave a fuck
what my wife thought.  Never gave a fuck what any female thought.  I care what
you think.”

He cares?

“About what?”

“Everything.”

“Explain everything?” 

Now you’ve got my attention.

“Everything.” He says quietly.  “What I do.  What I’ve
done.   I’m not a good man Arianna.  I’ve done bad things.  I still do bad
things.  I’m gunna keep doing bad things.  Are you going to be able to handle
that?”

Am I?

I think so.  I hope so. 

“Define bad things…” I mumble as I suddenly become aware of
his thumb persistently circling against my skin.  It’s rhythmic, it’s
relaxing.  It feels good.

Lifting an eyebrow and giving me a strange look he says,
“Off the top of my head, Tony.”

Feeling the need to defend him I butt in.  “Tony was an
extenuating circumstance.”

“I killed someone Ari – in cold blood.  That’s bad Ari and
you know it,” he says, his eyes locked on mine.  Piercing me to the soul. 
Burning into me.

Shaking off a cold shiver that shoots down my spine, I
continue.  “I know it’s bad, but it’s also justifiable. If someone hurt someone
I knew really bad, I’d want to hurt them too.”

“I didn’t hurt him Ari.  I killed him.” He says again, his
eyes still locked on mine. Unblinking.

Becoming frustrated with what appears me to be a useless
roundabout style conversation I let out an exasperated, “Aargh.”  Startling
slightly, Jake’s thumb stops swirling.  “What?” He barks at me starting to look
pissed again.

“What?” I growl irritated.  “Fucking what?” I snap out
loudly.  “I get it.  That’s what.  You’re a fucking badass.  You kill people. 
Old news. What the fuck is in the boxes then?”  Pinning him with another of my
narrow eyed pissed off looks I wait for his response. 

Expecting more drama, I soon find myself confused as a
change comes over Jake’s face.  His lips soften as the edges of his mouth lift
into a smirk.  His eyes start to sparkle a brilliant green and I can see his
amusement.

“What the fuck is so funny badass?” I snap, narrowing my eyes
at him even further.

“You,” he mumbles as he starts to knife upwards into a
sitting position when he grabs me by the waist with both hands.  Lifting me off
his lap, he swings to a sitting position, his feet hitting the floor as he
places me on my feet in front of him.  “Get dressed, we’re going to go poke
around in some boxes.”

“Okay,” I agree instantly as I start looking around on the
floor next to the bed for my clothes. 

“Just, okay?” He asks incredulously.

Narrowing my eyes at him again I lean in close to his face. 
“I said, o-kayyy.”  And I mean it.  Let’s get this shit over with.  Why the
fuck does he think I’m funny now?  “Why are you laughing at me?”

Moving quickly, he lifts his hand and grabs me by the hair
on the back of my head.  Pulling me closer to his face, he whispers, “Never met
a woman who got shitty arguing the finer points of whether killing a person is
considered badass or not.  I like it.  I also like the idea of no secrets so
let’s get this over and fuckin’ done with before I change my mind.”

With those words he pulls me closer and scalds me with a
hot, blistering kiss.  Letting me go, I find myself teetering on my feet, my
brain slightly addled.  Blinking rapidly to restore mental function I redirect
my attention to finding clothes again.  Without saying another word.

*****

“Fuck.  I’ve been looking for this for ages.” Jake grunts as
he opens another box.  He is bending over a box directly inside the doorway of
the first storage room he has taken me to.  Reaching inside, he rummages around
for a short while, flicking polystyrene beads on the floor next to the box. 
With a big grin, he lifts what looks like a chrome tailpipe for a motorbike out
of the box.

“That’s the point I was trying to make earlier,” I mumble
sarcastically from my position leaning against the door frame watching him.

Shop stock unorganized.  Much.

Flashing me a dark look, he gently places the chrome pipe
back in the box and slides the box to his side.  Opening a third box I watch as
he peers inside.  Knitting his brows, I can see he looks confused.  “Could have
sworn I was going with supply boxes starting with S this month,” he grumbles to
himself as he closes the lid on the box and slides it to the side to rest next
to the previous two.

Huh?

With my interest sparked, I start to pay more attention. 
Casting my eyes over the three boxes he’s already opened, I notice that all
three boxes have been shipped from companies starting with S. 

“That was last month dipstick,” a deep voice from behind me
causes me to startle.  My heart skipping a few beats.

Fuck!

Chuckling softly at my startle, Zane slides past me and into
the storage room.  Glancing around slowly, I watch as his eyes settle on a
stack of boxes to his right.  Nodding his head almost imperceptibly towards them,
I watch as Jake’s eyes shift across the room and he rolls his eyes at his
brother.  “T, I was close.”

Straightening from his position near the door, Jake takes
one step towards the boxes in question before Zane’s hand snakes out to grab
his elbow.  “You sure you wanna do this brother?”

“Yep,” Jake answers immediately and without hesitation. 
“She knows about Tony, didn’t bat a fuckin’ eyelid.”

I watch as Zane’s bright blue eyes widen slightly before
they swing to me.  Staring intently at me for a few beats, I stare back
unfaltering.  I’m not sure what his look is telling me but I do know that now
is not the time to falter or show concern.  I can see he’s suspicious and he’s
testing me.  He’s wondering whether I am trustworthy.

“Thank you,” I murmur maintaining my gaze for a few more
beats before swinging it to Jake.  He is watching me closely as well.  He nods.

Zane sees the movement from the corner of his eye and swings
his attention back to Jake.  “How far you going with this?”

“All the way brother.  She’s in.”

I continue to watch as the two brothers spend a few more
moments silently assessing each other, their stances stiff and cautious. My
pulse involuntarily rises.  I sense there is more to this conversation than
just the contents of their boxes.

“Ma likes her,” Zane mumbles as he finally breaks his eye
hold on his brother to look at the boxes again.

Nodding, Jake shakes his brother’s hand from his arm and
continues towards the boxes.  Zane watches him move across the room for a beat
before he turns around and strides past me and down the hallway.  He doesn’t
make eye contact with me and he doesn’t say a word.

“Bingo.”  My attention draws back to the room as Jake starts
dragging a box towards the door, the tape seal broken but the lid still
closed.  It would appear he has taken a peek inside and closed it again.

Settling the box near the door, he grabs me by the elbow and
hauls me closer.  With my eyes locked on the box, I feel like a robot as he
gives me a light shove and pushes me towards the box.  My sense of impending
doom spikes again, but with a deep breath I push it back down.  Really, how bad
could this be? 

Pulse racing, I reach out and flick the top of the box
open.  I need to find out what’s in there and deal.  Flicking one more glance
at Jake, I lean forward and peer in.

No bodies.  Just drugs.

“Pot?” I mutter softly before wrapping my hand around a
large vacuum sealed bag of greenery.  Lifting it out, I stare incredulously at
it for a moment.  Swinging my attention back to Jake I see is frowning. 
Leaning across to shove the bag in his face I growl, “Just pot?”

Jakes eyebrows lift and I watch as his eyes widen.  He sways
away from the package I am waving his face seconds before he reaches up and
grabs it from my hand.

“You had me all stressed the fuck out over pot?” I growl
again as I reach out and snatch it back.  “I thought I was about to find dead
bodies or guns, or grenades or something fucking scary in your stupid fucking
boxes.  Not just whacky weed.  Jesus.  Men.  Fucking drama queens.”  I mutter
as I drop the bag back into the box and slam the lid shut again.

Seriously?

All the big work-up and I find out he’s got a few bags of
pot sitting around in boxes. 

“Is that it?” I snap, annoyed and almost feeling a bit let
down because Jake isn’t looking to be quite the badass I thought he actually
was.

“Is that it?” He asks softly, staring at me, his face
expressionless.  “You do realize pot is illegal, yeah?”

“Of course I do,” I snap again as I turn to head out the
door and back to my bedroom.  “A few baggies of weed doesn’t seem worth getting
worked up over,” I announce haughtily as I stride down the hallway wondering
what all the fuss was about. 

Pot I can handle.  It’s just a herb. 

I know that it can be harmful to some, but it’s one of those
drugs that I consider it more about the user than the use.  To me, it sits at
the same level as alcohol.  You can drink yourself to death if you want to and
the same goes with pot.  If you are going to smoke heaps of it every day,
expect consequences.  A little taken here and there for fun, I do not see as an
issue. 

I’ve even read about the health benefits of cannabis.  There
are some major studies now advising that in small raw dosages it fights cancer,
glaucoma and even Alzheimers.  I myself, from recent experience can vouch for
its use in pain management.

Why would him having pot in his boxes be such a big issue?

That’s when I falter.  I slow my feet down as one huge
blaringly obvious question comes to the forefront of my mind .

Fuck.

I rock to stop on one foot, turn and slowly start walking
back to the storeroom.  Jake is now sitting calmly on a box, his ankles crossed
casually in front of him.  His face still looks blank and expressionless and I
can see his body is relaxed and calm.  With his huge frame and massive limbs in
relaxed mode, he reminds me of an enormous lion, lazing in his domain.

Softly closing the door behind me, I walk to another box and
take a seat on it.  Jake’s eyes follow my every step as I settle myself to a
seated position.  Clasping my hands together in my lap, I lean forward to watch
his face for signs of activity.  At a barely audible whisper, I ask, “How much
pot is in the boxes?”

Jake remains still and expressionless.  His eyes locked on
mine, he looks like he is calculating and assessing his response carefully.  I
feel the hair rising on the back of my neck.

“We are not talking a few boxes scattered throughout the
shop are we?” I muse as I drag my eyes from his face to cast an eye around the
room.  As I do this I realize just how many boxes there are.  Some hold genuine
motorbike parts, some don’t.  There would be around thirty boxes in this room
alone.  There’s a lot more storage rooms than just this one.

I wonder how many are full of pot.

Sensing movement, I look back to see Jake scratching his
face thoughtfully.  “To be honest, I can’t even tell you how many of these
boxes have pot in them.  We are a bit disorganised.  We take orders and we just
find a box and fill the order.  It’s a bit haphazard.  Zane and I have been
toying with the idea of detailing packing dates.  I can’t even tell how old
some of this shit is now.”

What the fuck?

“There’s so much pot here you don’t even know how much you
have?” I ask as I feel my eyes widening in horror.  “How much do you grow to
get to that point?”

Rubbing his forefinger slowly across his chin, Jake looks
thoughtful.  “Hard to know.  We grow hydroponically in old farmhouses.  Luke’s
been doing all the setups using solar and wind power to support the power
requirements.  We only started this venture about sixteen months ago and the
first house we set up is about to pull its fifth crop.  We get about seventy
kilo’s out of each crop.  The second house has only been up and running about
eight months and the third was set up a short while back.  I suppose I can
estimate we’ve harvested four hundred kilos so far.  We’ve probably sold about
half of that but the rest is scattered throughout the building in stock boxes.”

Fuck!

“You’ve got about two hundred kilos of pot sitting around in
boxes?” I blurt as my mind does somersaults trying to imagine what that’s even
worth.

“Two hundred kilos of high grade pot,” he says as a grin
creeps across his face and his eyes start to sparkle.  “I’ve actually been
thinking it might be worth considering putting a little security on the place.”

“Two hundred fucking kilos?” I confirm again, knitting my
brows.  “How much is that even worth?”

“About a million dollars to us, but a lot more to someone
else.  We’ve got two crops about ready to harvest and the new house is gunna
start producing soon as well.  We are spending more time looking into potential
buyers these days than selling because I am getting more and more sensitive
about whom we deal with.  Bigger crops, bigger risks.  We need to be more
careful.”

Jesus Christ I’ve moved in with an up-and-coming drug mogul.

“Holy shit,” I mumble as lean forward to put my head in my
hands.  And then another thought crosses my mind.  “Is Jake and Zane’s Harley
Shop a genuine business?”