The Devil's Bargain (2 page)

“Help us out, how? I’m not hiring a hit man!”

“Not to kill Charlie. Just scare him a bit. Make him stay away from Kit.”

I turned the idea over in my mind. I was never really one for violence, even watching a horror movie made me squirm, but the thought of Charlie getting a case of his own medicine was tempting.

Less than twenty minutes later Beth and I were sitting in the packed dirt parking lot outside of The Rat’s Hole. We were one of three cars in the parking lot, every other space was taken up by bikes—big Harleys. I could hear the pounding bass beat through the closed windows of Beth’s Camry.

“Are you as scared as I am?”

“Probably more. Ready to rock?”

“Absolutely.”

Beth hadn’t been kidding when she asked me how far I was willing to go to protect Kit. I was on the verge of asking an outlaw motorcycle club to put the fear of God into her abusive boyfriend. In a life where my biggest crime had been shoplifting a tube of mascara when I was eleven, that was pretty far.

The rambling, dilapidated porch in front of the bar was jam packed with big men in leather, smelling of sweat and fumes. I noticed more than a few sporting vests with The Diablos patches across the back. When Beth and I made our way to the front door they stopped and watched us pass without a word. I’ve never been so intimidated in my life.

Luckily, Bobby was waiting for us just inside the door. His face was a welcome sight in this sea of leather. The women were loud and raucous, the men were drinking heavily and everywhere I turned there was another tattoo or scar. It was so far removed from my quiet day to day life that I felt like a fish out of water. Bobby gave me a quick hug hello before leading us through the press of the crowd towards the back of the bar.

There was a small door on the back wall, flanked on either side by large bikers. No doubt this was the real function of The Rat’s Hole. The bar business up front was just a façade to hide the offices of The Diablos Motorcycle Club. I had seen them riding down main street more than a few times during my life but I never paid them much mind. Still, I would have to been deaf not to hear the rumors that swirled around them: gun running, drugs, brutal beatings and murder. My heart was pounding in my chest. What was I thinking getting us involved in this?

Bobby gave a nod to one of the bouncers who nodded back and rapped on the door three times.

“Yeah.” The voice that answered was rough and growling. Not a voice to be taken lightly. The door swung open and the three of us passed into a small office dominated by a large wooden desk. Behind it sat a man I had never seen before. He was tall, even seated I could see he would be well over 6’3 standing. His shoulders were broad and his forearms heavily roped with muscles. His hair was a dark ash blond hanging down to his collar and slicked back away from the hard lines of his face. He was a handsome man, but not in the soft way I was used to. His eyes were cold and calculating and the set of his jaw was firm. I swallowed hard.

“So, which one is the lady you’ve been telling me about, Bobby?” He leaned forward without introduction and raked those cold eyes over my body making me feel bare and exposed with just one glance.

"This is Meg, Cain.” Bobby motioned to me with one hand while carefully inspecting his boots. He seemed too scared to even make eye contact with Cain.

“The rest of you leave us. I need to talk to Meg here alone.” His word was obviously law because the other bikers jumped to their feet and retreated through the door. Beth was staring at me, her eyes unreadable, as Bobby ushered her out. I knew she was scared for me.

“Take a seat.” Cain motioned to one of the faded leather couches lining the walls while standing and walking over to a small bar. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Yes, please. A scotch.” My throat was as dry as the Sahara. Hopefully, a little liquid courage wouldn’t go awry either.

When he had finished pouring the drinks he sat next to me on the couch and I was shocked by his size. He was tall and heavily muscled but it was more than that, he took up room just by virtue of his presence. Sitting next to me with his legs wide and his arm flung casually over the back of the couch he seemed larger than life. It was intimidating for a girl like me who spent most of her life apologizing and moving out of other people’s way.

I took a long slow sip of the scotch enjoying the warmth of the alcohol as I thought about what to say next. I knew enough to tread carefully and not upset this Goliath of a man.

“Thank you for the drink. I didn’t expect such hospitality.”

“We’re here to discuss business. Serious business from what Bobby tells me but that’s no reason we can’t be civilized. Many great friendships were forged in the fires of serious business.”

My mind was whirling at his words.
Friendships? What did that mean?
Clearly there was some agenda at play here that I didn’t know about. I would have to choose my words very carefully and not get caught up in Cain’s pull.

“So Bobby told you about my sister.”

“Yes, Kit Cole lives at 561 W. Elm Ave. with her boyfriend Charlie Deen. He’s been beating on her for months now but Bobby says it’s gotten more serious lately and you’re worried for her life.”

Well he had certainly done his homework.

“I know we have a reputation in town as being lawless thugs but believe it or not there are some rules here that are set in stone. One of those is ‘No women or children.’ The club does not forgive or forget a man who would raise his hand to anyone weaker than him to make himself feel strong.”

“That’s good. That’s good to know.”

He leaned back a little further in his seat and I could feel the heat of his thigh as it pressed against mine.

“That being said, we’re not a charitable organization.”

“I—I totally understand. I have some money saved up. I don’t know how much you’d need…”

Cain raised his hand to silence me.

“We don’t need your money. We’re not strong arms for hire either. We like to cultivate beneficial relationships with people in the town. Usually that involves an exchange of favors. Charlie Deen won’t be a problem anymore but in exchange you’ll have to do a favor for us.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Does it matter?” His eyes twinkled when he asked me. He knew exactly the position I was in and how I would do anything to keep my sister safe. He read me like an open book.

“I guess not.”

His hand came down on the bare skin of my thigh and rubbed it softly making me shiver. His skin was warm and rough, his hand heavy. “Don’t look so scared, it’s nothing big. I know you’re a good girl.” His smile was slightly mocking. It frightened me but at the same time an unfamiliar bud of lust was growing deep in my belly. I almost asked
What if I don’t want to be the good girl anymore?

“Now, we toast to a successful transaction.” Our glasses clinked together and I drank deeply staring at this man I had just tied myself to. He spoke like an executive, looked like a Viking and read me like an open book. Was I sure I could handle this? And if I couldn’t, what other option did I have?

That night I left The Rat’s Hole with a new and unfamiliar tangle of emotions running through my head. I knew I was in for another long sleepless night.

****

Two days later I drove home from work and found Kit camped out on my doorstep surrounded by boxes and bags. I helped her carry her things in and poured us some margaritas heavy on the tequila.

“Go ahead and say it.”

“Say what?”

“I told you so.”

“You know I’d never do that. What happened?” Inside I was dancing with glee but I knew Kit would be hurt by any signs of celebration at the final implosion of her relationship.

“He came home late last night with some guys I don’t know. They were all riding Harleys and looked a lot rougher than the usual guys he hangs out with down at the bar. He had a black eye and I asked him what happened and he just blew up at me.” Kit took a long slow sip of her margarita but I was happy to see her eyes were dry. “Told me he’s been fucking Marti Sanger, the new waitress at the Roadhouse. He loves her and she’s moving in tomorrow so I had to be out. I can’t believe I was so stupid!”

“Do you think it’s over for real this time?”

“Yeah, I can’t forgive him for this. Not this time. He knew how I felt about cheaters after mom and dad.”

The celebration dance in my head went up another notch. We settled down and watched some slapstick comedy on TV until Kit drifted off to sleep. I covered her with a blanket and went into my own room.

Alone in the dark, the import of what had just happened really hit me. Kit was free and safe. Cain had come through on his word. But what did that mean for me now? He still expected an ‘exchange of favors.’ Part of me was dreading the call I knew would come but a deeper, darker part of me wanted to hear the deep growl of his voice on the other end of the line. I spent all those years trying to cure my sister’s addictions to bad boys and here I was lusting after the head of an outlaw motorcycle club. Maybe the stupidity was genetic.

I was on pins and needles for the next week jumping every time the phone rang. Kit had moved into her own apartment near her work and I was thankful. I didn’t know how long it would take before she would notice my cagey behavior.

Finally, on Thursday the call came.

“How you doing, darling?”

“Good. Doing good.”

“And that sweet sister of yours?”

“Safe. Thank you. I wanted to call and say thank you but…I didn’t have your number.” I finished lamely. “By the way, how did you get mine?”

On the other end of the line, Cain laughed softly. Of course he can find my number.

“No need to thank me just yet. I need a favor from you and afterwards we can express our—
mutual admiration
.”

I swallowed hard, there was no turning back now. I had made a deal with the devil and there was no reneging.

Cain laughed again, that maddening confident laugh.

“Don’t panic, darling. I can hear you quivering over the phone.” The way he said quivering made a dull throb begin between my legs.
Oh God, I was in deep.
“I just need you to distract a guy, make him late for a meeting.”

“Distract him how?”

“How does a woman usually distract a man, sugar? Meet him at the bar. Make him think he’s got a shot. He’s an accountant, hangs out at McGinty’s on 7
^th
. Always stops there on his way home from work for a beer. I need you to keep him there for round two.”

“That’s it? I mean, why me? Why not have one of the girls from the other night do it?”

“You saw the hangers-on at The Rat Hole. You honestly think an accountant wouldn’t suspect they were with the club right away?” I remembered the tattoos, high hair and bare skin. He had a point. “I need a good girl.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow, be there at 5:30 and make sure he stays til 6:30.”

“OK, I’ll do my best.”

At 5:20 the next afternoon I was standing outside of the door to McGinty’s. It was a local sports bar frequented by white collar types looking to unwind and catch the game after a tough day at the office. Any of the girls who worked at The Rat’s Hole would have stood out like a sore thumb.

I was dressed in a black skirt suit with a fitted jacket. Underneath I had paired it with a white silk blouse and left several buttons unbuttoned until the black lace of my bra peeked through when I moved. It was hot but
after-work and on the prowl
hot. When I walked in, several heads turned to follow my progress as my heel clicked on the laminate floors.

The after work crowd was already filing in but there were a few seats at the bar still available, luckily one was next to the rumpled sandy haired man Cain had described. I slid in next to him and watched as his eyes crawled over my cleavage.

“Gin and tonic.” I called out to the bartender and turned my attention to Sports Center playing silently on the line of TVs above the bar. I told myself I didn’t want to appear too forward and spook him but truthfully I wasn’t even sure how to do what Cain had asked of me. I had never been flirtatious in my life.

“You a Dolphins fan?”

“Not much of a football fan at all really.” I said turning to him and smiling. “Who should I be rooting for?”

“I’d have to say I’d like to see the Ravens take it this year. They deserve it after how far they’ve come from last season.”

“Ravens it is then.”

He smiled at me and I instantly felt like I needed a shower. How can so much lecherous intent be conveyed through a simple curving of the lips?

“And what’s your name, sweetie?”

“Carol.”

“Nice to meet you Carol. I’m Ray.” We shook hands and he clung to mine for an awkward length of time, his finger brushing the sensitive skin beneath my wrist.
Fight it, fight it. You have to pretend you’re interested.
I smiled back and squeezed his hand before disentangling my fingers from his.

“You work around here Ray?”

“At Peterson just down the road.”

For the next half an hour we exchanged small talk while he undressed me with his eyes and groped my thigh every time he made a joke. I smiled and laughed along hoping I was giving the right impression until he raised his hand for the check.

“You can’t be going already. We’ve only had one round.”

“Have to. I have a meeting I can’t miss. But I can meet you back here an hour from now.”

“An hour? Who knows what kind of trouble I might get into an hour from now. No, it’s fine go to your meeting. I’ll just find someone else to teach me about football.”

Ray licked him plump pale lips his eyes fixed on the front of my blouse. “What kind of trouble are you looking for?”

“Buy me another round and maybe I’ll show you.”

Despite my inexperience, my clumsy attempts at flirting worked. Ray ordered another round and I simpered and giggled letting him keep his hand around my waist. I managed to drag things out for another half hour before we walked out of McGinty’s.

“So baby, your place or mine?” Ray asked pulling me against him.

“You know, I think we really have a connection. I don’t want to ruin it. Why don’t you call me later and we’ll see where this goes?” I slipped him a piece of paper with a fake phone number. Ray’s shock and confusion were clear on his face.