Dead Men Motorcycle Club Read online

Page 13


  "You look like you're ready to start a bar fight," he told me with a wide grin.

  "Maybe not a bar fight," I quipped, putting my hand on my hip dramatically, "But maybe I'll go down to the diner and punch somebody about a plate of eggs."

  Cash laughed and tossed a pillow at me comically. I caught it in a dive as I jumped back onto the bed, pinning him down with the pillow between us. He was all smiles that morning and the feeling spread to me as well.

  "We're really going to do this," I said. It was a question, but it was an answer as well.

  Cash nodded at me and I leaned down to kiss him. Whenever we made an agreement, it was always sealed with a kiss. Maybe it's not the most original way for a couple to show their integrity, but it worked for us.

  "Okay," I told him, "I'll talk to Tubbs at the shop and explain the situation to him. You should call Aleaxander and tell him you're coming by to talk to him about something special."

  "I'm still not entirely convinced he'll go along with it. He's a thrill seeker, sure, but this is asking a lot."

  "Trust me," I said with a sly smile, "Alexander will do anything to prove himself. IF he starts to waver, just lay into his ego. Tell him that it's a dangerous job and that you need someone who's can handle himself. I'm sure you'll come up with something."

  Cash nodded, and he looked slightly more relaxed about the situation. My man might be a criminal, but I'd learned that he wasn't a practiced liar. I guess that's part of why he'd managed to become so beloved by the Dead Men at such a relatively young age. I was asking him to lie, but he knew the cause was just. If he could fight and kill for the club, what was a lie spoken to an outsider?

  "When you've got him hook, line and sinker, bring him by the garage. I'll have Tubbs ready and we'll head over together. You and Tubbs can ride and I'll ride with him in his car. Speaking of which, we'd better not mention the current state of his dad's ride - at least not until we've got him turned to our side in this little cold war."

  We sealed the plan with another kiss and he headed off for the shower. I spent the time looking through my wardrobe for something sexy that would suit the purposes of our plan. If I was playing the role of arm candy to get into this place, I'd need to look the part. In the end, I picked out a red dress that I'd bought years before but only worn a couple times. I'm not the sort of person who gets much use for fancy clothes. Today was different though. When I'd worn that dress before, I might have been lying to myself about who I was but today I was going to be putting on the performance of my lifetime.

  Once we were both clean and dressed, we got ready to head into the garage. I looked completely unsuited for mechanical work with my makeup and knee-length dress. Cash laughed between smiles when he saw what I'd picked out.

  "Zach is going to throw a fit about that if he sees you," he said.

  "He can grouse all he wants," I said knowingly, "I'm working for his boss today."

  I decided to ride into work on the back of Cash's bike that day. My bike was running fine, but the outfit I was wearing wasn't really up to the job. Besides, we were heading into some amount of danger - though I couldn't have given you an exact figure - and I wanted one last chance to hold him tight before we had to fully assume our roles.

  Cash's bike thrummed beneath us as we headed into Peasant Motors. My hands gripped tightly around him. The previous night I'd given him a chance to see me behind the wheel, but even that was nothing compared to feeling him as he drove his bike. My dad had always told me I had an affinity for machines. I don't think Cash had quite the same thing - but he did have that bike. He rode it like it was an extension of himself. Ever since our first ride, I knew that there was more to his relationship with the bike than one of man and machine. For him the bike was a symbol, but it was also a connection to his fast and his future. Everywhere he'd been in life, he'd been carried by that bike. As long as he could ride it, he would ensure that his future memories shared that quality. As long as he was riding, he knew he'd find where he was going. That kind of certainly in the face of an unknown future is something I would have laughed at the idea of, before I moved my life across the country. I had always believed that what I could count on was the things I could see and hear and feel. Cash believed in what came over the next horizon, even if he couldn't see it. He believed hard enough that, after months alongside him, I was beginning to believe as well. The future was unknowable, but that doesn't mean you can't have faith in it.

  When we reached the garage, I carefully dismounted from the bike, trying my best to not screw up my dress. I was glad none of the other mechanics happened to be outside when we arrived. If I was lucky I'd only have to see Tubbs that day and the stories about me dolling myself up wouldn't spread until after the job was done. After all, we couldn't tell the rest of the club what we were u to.

  I leaned in for a quick kiss with Cash. He returned the kiss and dug his phone out of his pocket.

  "Okay, I'll head over to Alexander's hotel room," he told me. "When I've got him, I'll send you a text message."

  I nodded and pulled my phone out of my purse to make sure I'd be able to receive his text. This was it - the plan was going on whether we'd thought of everything or not. We probably wouldn't get another chance at it if we turned ourselves away from this course. Alexander was an adrenaline junkie but he wasn't stupid. If we kept offering to bring him on unrelated runs where I was present, he would start asking uncomfortable questions. We had to get this right the first time.

  I noticed Tubbs' bike parked outside the garage along with a few others. I'd been sure he'd be at the garage that day, but it was still a relief to know that part of the plan was going to work out fine. We needed the fourth man to add some legitimacy to our ploy. If Cash and I had tried to bring Alexander alone, he would smell trouble - or at least a personal agenda that he might be unwilling to get involved with. This way it seemed like a job for experts, not a family matter.

  I found Tubbs in the garage, going over a work order. He did a double take when he saw me stroll into the bay with my dress. I couldn't help but chuckle and do a small twirl for him. I knew it would embarrass him more than anything and, sure enough, he was already starting to turn red from the neck up when turned back to face him.

  "Whoa," he said, "You're not going to be working in that, are you?"

  I laughed. "Not exactly," I told him with a grin, "But we've got a job to do all the same." He set his clipboard down, and I knew I had his attention. Tubbs was more than just a follower, but he knew when to shut up and pay attention. If he'd chosen a life in the military rather than a motorcycle club, he'd been one of those perfect soldiers that takes orders like a professional.

  I scanned the garage to make sure we were alone before I got into it. I wasn't about to screw this whole thing up by letting someone else in on the plan before it was time. When I was certain the coast was clear, I started in a hushed tone.

  "We're going to save San Viero," I told him.

  "It's about time," he said, "exactly what are we saving it from and how?"

  I couldn't help but grin at his joke. A perfect soldier he might be, but Tubbs knew when wit was called for. Maybe he wouldn't have done very well in the military after all.

  "We're going to use Alexander to buy up the town before his dad gets a chance. To do it, we need to make that fancy boy into a Dead Man."

  I could tell that he understood the plan as soon as I told it to him. Tubbs wasn't the sort to miss details, and much of the intelligence we'd been able to gather on Alexander and even his father was due to Tubbs' relentless observation.

  "We're headed to the Hot 10 in Waverly," I explained.

  "You mean Preston's place?" he asked. "Yeah, okay, I get it. A simple bit of browbeating to show Alexander a taste of the wild life. I'm in."

  "Fantastic," I said with a serious look. "Cash and Alexander should be here soon. You should get dressed for the job. Your work jumpsuit isn't quite the style we're trying to get Alexander to buy into."

&
nbsp; "Got it," he said. He started for the bathroom immediately, stopping by his locker to grab a bag of street clothes.

  I took the time to wander around the garage, feeling out of place for the first time in my life. I handled a few of the tools gently, making sure not to get any grease on my fingers or my dress. I had to keep telling myself that it was just a costume, and that I would be back to the grease and the heat in no time. The truth was that I was enjoying the job already. Being a mechanic isn't exactly dull, but after your thousandth oil change it does lose some of its glamour. What we were doing today felt like being a spy straight out of a novel. I started thinking in the voice of that guy who does movie trailers.

  In a world of danger and uncertainty

  One woman stands against the tide

  She's going undercover

  But she's tough and this is no time for cowards.

  My ridiculous pep talk was working and by the time Tubbs returned, dressed in black jeans and his thick leather jacket, I was ready to take on Reginald Donnovan all by myself. The Dead Men didn't have a dress code, per se, but I was endlessly amused by the way they all dressed alike. If someone showed up wearing blue jeans rather than black, it was a source of gossip for days. You might think that big tough bikers don't gossip but the truth is that when they get together, they put any book club or sorority in the world to shame.

  Just as Tubbs returned, I got a text from Cash telling me that he and Alexander were on the way.

  "Alright," I said, "it's show time. You and Cash are in the lead because you've got the patches, but Alexander and I are going to get us inside. Preston doesn't know either of us, so he won't be suspicious until he sees the two of you following us in. You know him better than I do - should I be worried?"

  "Hard to say," Tubbs said, stroking his chin, "He was always a bit of a wild card, which I guess explains why he'd be dumb enough to try setting up his club in San Viero in the first place. I'm not sure how much ill will he's still carrying for the club. For all we know, he could meet us with open arms or guns blazing."

  "Let's hope it's neither of those," I told him. "We need Alexander's blood pumping. A friendly chat isn't going to do the trick. If Preston is too forgiving and too forthcoming, keep pressing him until he stands up for himself. I'll make sure Alexander gets the view we want him to see.

  Tubbs and I stepped out into the lot and he got on his bike. He might not be the born rider that Cash was, but it's hard to not look cool on a motorcycle. I suppose that's why they got so popular in the first place. Even an odd, gangly guy like Tubbs could cut a striking profile when he was riding. I had to remind myself that the seeds of the Dead Men's seduction of Alexander had been planted long before he ever came to San Viero. A man like him couldn't help but believe in the mystique of the MC. I was going to push that for everything it was worth.

  Cash and Alexander arrived shortly after. Cash pulled into the lot but stayed on his bike. I gave Tubbs a nod and walked over to the passenger side door of Alexander's car and got in. He looked just as he always did - like he'd spent hours crafting himself into just the right style. I swear that guy spent more time doing his hair than I ever did. He was wearing a suit just like always. I had to stop myself from laughing when I realized that my thoughts about the way all the Dead Men dressed alike could be equally applied to men all over the world. I was sure that Alexander took the tips in GQ very seriously and strived every day to look just like the rest of the rich, young men of his generation.

  "Morning, Emma," he said as I sat down.

  "Good morning," I said lightly. "Cash told you everything?"

  "He did," Alexander said, nodding. "I've got to say, I'm intrigued. I keep hearing stories about what the club gets up to and I've definitely wanted to see if the reality lives up to the hype. There's just one thing I don't get - why are you here?"

  I'd been prepared for that question. My presence was odd. It was normal policy - informal though it was - that girlfriends and wives weren't ever brought along on business like this. After all, it was a dangerous job and even though we might live alongside them, we're not truly Dead Men.

  "Sometimes there's a job that just takes asset that the Dead Men don't have," I told him. "When it comes to fighting and intimidating, they're the best around. When a job calls for something a bit more subtle, they've got to call on people who can look the part." I nodded to his suit and he understood my meaning immediately.

  Cash and Tubbs pulled out of the parking lot and Alexander followed them. It was somewhat uncomfortable riding in the car with him. After my joyride with Cash the previous evening, the idea of riding in a car with Alexander felt more like cheating than I was entirely comfortable with. Plus, I was going to have to play his arm candy. I already knew I'd need to give Cash a wink from time to time to let him know that it was all an act. The last thing we needed was for someone to break character out of jealousy.

  Waverly was only a 20 minute ride away from San Viero - hardly anything, really - but it felt like another world. Waverly was a vision into the future of San Viero in many ways. Here was a town that had boomed a decade ago. It had given up the identity of a small town and tried to make itself a destination for tourists and even big city natives. They'd sold everything and the result was a wasteland of fast food and outlet malls. It was the kind of place that felt humid even when the weather was fine. The stink of desperation and shame clung to everything in Waverly and the Hot 10 club was no exception.

  Preston had done well for himself because when times are tough, you can always count on people wanting to drink. The Hot 10 hadn't become the destination he'd hoped, but it turned a profit. I suppose in business that's the only thing you can reasonably hope for. Still, from the outside it hardly looked like the kind of place that you'd want to make a special trip to visit. I found myself doubting that anybody from outside Waveryly ever bothered to come into the place.

  We parked in front and I called Cash on my phone.

  "Okay you guys stand aside. We'll get ourselves in to talk to Preston and I'll do my best to bring whoever's on the door along with us so you can follow."

  "Got it," he said over the phone. "Good luck. We'll see you inside."

  I put my phone away and took a deep breath. I looked up to Alexander and could tell that his mood was shifting from excitement to anxiety. "Good," I thought to myself. Even if him being nervous wasn't exactly part of the plan, I couldn't help but feel a little pleased, knowing that this man who had thought so little of the Dead Men was sweating now.

  "Let's do this," I said to him and he nodded. Outside the car I checked my hair once last time in the mirror of the car before putting my arm in his as we walked to the front door. It was the middle of the day and the Hot 10 was technically closed, but I thought this was the best time to catch Preston with minimal security. Sure enough, when we knocked on the door, a tired looking man answered. He was tall and bulky. He'd clearly spent many years working in this kind of job and had a look that wouldn't be out of place in an MC.

  Before he could get a word out, Alexander took hold of the door and held it wide open. "I'm here to see Preston," he said. All this time I'd been thinking of Alexander's role as very passive. It occurred to me suddenly that he might be more talented than I'd given him credit for. There's a certain skill set that you cultivate when you live a life of leisure, and getting meetings with important people is a big part of it. The bouncer looked at him for a moment, trying to assess any potential threat. With his styled hair and finely cut suit, the greatest threat Alexander presented was a lawsuit or a corporate takeover. The bouncer looked to me briefly, but I could tell that security was mostly just an excuse for him to check me out. I might be the architect of this plan, and Cash had let me maintain that role, but now that we were in motion, I knew that I was going to be forced to take a back seat.

  "Yeah, alright," the bouncer said finally, stepping back from the door. Alexander pushed his way inside and stood just beyond the entrance. I follow him in and trie
d my best to look bored. The bouncer was about to resume his seat on a tall stool next to the door when Alexander interrupted him.

  "Well?", he asked. "Show me where his office is." He didn't make any excuses and I knew that was part of his magic. Sometimes getting your way is just about making demands without explaining them and waiting for other people to step up to the plate. The bouncer grumbled something under his breath and moved past us into the club, leading the way.

  Clubs like that always look strange during the day. It's not sunlight, of course. There were no windows to speak of. It's more about which lights are on and which aren't - that and the ever present silence. As we stepped across the deserted club towards a spiral staircase on the far side, I could hear my heels clacking against the hard floor. Alexander remained composed and confident looking. This plan was far from over, but at least I didn't worry about him wimping out.

  We climbed the staircase to the balcony level. Preston had an office at the end of a catwalk with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the club. When we got to the door our large guide opened it and stepped through. Before I even saw him, I heard Preston's voice and imagined a weasel. His appearance did nothing to contradict that impression. He was small with greasy hair and thin lips.

  "What is it, Anders?" he said without looking up from the screen of his laptop, the soft blue glow of it lighting up his face in the dimly lit room.

  "Someone here to see you, boss," he said. Preston looked up as if he'd just put two and two together about the sound of the three of us entering his office. When he looked up, he was at first angry, then confused and finally he looked like a smarmy used car salesman. I figured that a guy like Preston probably had a lot of undesirable visitors. When he didn't recognize us he quickly turned to the skills that had made him the owner of a night club in the first place. Just like the bouncer, I caught him taking more than a few moments to look me over.

  Alexander stepped towards the desk and I caught sight of the bouncer moving towards the door behind us. I had to think fast. I needed to keep him here or he might discover just who our visit had really brought to the club. I stepped behind Alexander's back and caught the bouncer's eye. I raised my eyebrow slightly and ran my hand slowly over my mid-section. I hadn't had much use for overt moves like that in the garage, but it seemed to work every time. He let his hand drop from the door and I smiled at him as he turned back around to face the front of the room where Preston was sitting. His eyes were now fixed entirely on me. I made a show of keeping my gestures small, as though I didn't want Alexander to notice what I was doing behind his back. I learned a long time ago that getting a guy's attention is usually just a matter of making him think you're more interested in getting to know him than whoever you arrived with.