Reclaiming His Life Page 7

  When the three of us work together, there is never a dull moment. All three of us are between 6 foot and 6 foot 3; together our combined weight exceeds 700 pounds, and no one, I mean no one, fucks with us. I work seven days a week here, which keeps me out of trouble, which is a good thing. Plus, it pays really well, and I need that because there is only so much longer I can continue to live with my parents. I need a place of my own, and I need it quick, which is why I am spending today with Mom and Rylee looking at places to rent.

  My brother and I still aren’t talking. We had a nice conversation while he was in the hospital, and I learned that part of his hatred for me is based on a big misunderstanding about something he saw me do when he was younger. The other part is going to be a bigger challenge to get over. He doesn’t like the things I’ve done in my past, and for that, I am paying the price. Rylee, though, feels I have done my time and is ready for Braedyn and me to work on our relationship, and if that means building one with her first, so be it. Hence why she is with my mother helping me find a place of my own.

  I have almost given up hope finding the right place in my budget and location preference, but wouldn’t you know it, the last place we look at is just a couple of miles from the club, tucked back behind a few older homes. The owner has converted an area above their garage into a one-bedroom apartment. The price is right and to be honest, the place is amazing. Granite counters, hardwood floors, and fully furnished; and for only seven hundred a month it is affordable, so I take it. I don’t have much of my own, so I’m able to move in immediately.

  “Thanks for all your help today,” I tell both my mom and Rylee. “I don’t know if I would have ever found this on my own.”

  “No worries, Gauge, I am just glad we were able to help you find a place so quickly,” Rylee replies with the biggest smile on her face.

  My brother hit the jackpot with this one. She has a good heart to go with her outgoing personality, which reminds me that I need to follow through with my original decision in regards to her ex. I think it’s time Colt found out what it is like to eat through a straw, and a few well-placed calls to some wives are going to make that happen next week.

  When I arrive at The Sweet Spot tonight, Walrus tells me that Bob and Rusty are waiting for me in Bob’s office. Something big must be up. Pushing open the door, I stroll in and am immediately on edge when I see two FBI agents sitting at the desk and Rusty standing behind Bob, arms crossed and looking angrier than I have ever seen before. I know they’re FBI the minute I walk in; dark suits and buzz cuts are always a dead giveaway. I thought I was a cocky motherfucker, but they put me to shame.

  “Gauge, these are Agent Richards and Winter. Seems we have a little problem they wanted to bring to our attention and need our help with. More specifically, yours,” Bob shares.

  “What kind of problem?” I ask, my curiosity peaked at what they could want from me.

  Agent Winter steps forward, extending his hand for me to shake, and introduces himself. He is all business, throwing his authority in my face like I need to be afraid of him. He doesn’t scare me one bit, and whatever he has to say he needs to say quickly, because I have more important shit to do.

  “Kassidy McLean, name ring any bells with you?” he asks.

  “Nope, got nothing for you. Who is it and what does it have to do with me?” I ask.

  “How about Lexie? Do you know that name?” His condescending tone is starting to grate on my nerves.

  “Only Lexie I know works here, and her last name ain’t McLean, it’s Winston,” I bite out.

  “Exactly,” the dickhead barks at me.

  “Yeah, so I’ll ask again, what does this have to do with me? Cut to the chase and stop playing twenty questions.”

  I know who Lexie is, only I call her Lex. We date on and off. More like we fuck whenever we feel the need to just have some fun. She and I became friends rather quickly when I started here. She is tiny, five foot give or take an inch, and all of one hundred and ten soaking wet, fire-engine red hair, but her mouth and her temper set my dick ablaze when she is around. Feisty and cagey, just the way I like them.

  “Well, her brother just got himself into a shitload of trouble with the wrong folks and put a big-ass target on her back. We offered her some protection, but she refused, which is the stupidest thing she could have done,” Agent Richards speaks up.

  “Last time I’m asking, fuckers. What has this got to do with me?”

  Winter speaks up this time. “She knows you, and she trusts you, I’m assuming. Until we can find her brother and secure him, we need someone to watch over her and call us if something seems out of place. I’m not at liberty to share more than that.”

  I know exactly how this works. Lex refused protection, which means no captain in their right mind would spend man hours looking out for someone who doesn’t want it. They can’t justify it unless they know one hundred percent that she is in danger. Agents Winter and Richards know whoever her brother is involved with won’t hesitate to use her to get at her brother. I’ve seen it many times during my time undercover.

  “I’m no one's babysitter. If shit goes down here, then I’ll take care of it, but if you’re asking me to make her my responsibility outside of my duties here at the club, then you’re shit out of luck.”

  “That’s all were asking,” Richards speaks up. “That and maybe see if she’ll give you any indication of where her brother is and how to find him and the folks that are looking for him.”

  “Fuck you! I’m not getting involved. Like I said, if shit happens here, then it’s part of my job to handle it, but once I clock out, I’m done; and last I checked you don’t sign my checks, and I’m not into playing twenty questions with anyone.”

  Both agents look at Bob for assistance.

  “Like I said, gentlemen, when you came in here asking for my help. If Gauge wants to take on the responsibility, I will support him, but he’s correct; it’s not part of his job duties to watch out for the girls after hours, and I won’t make it his responsibility. Rusty, show these men out,” Bob shoots back.

  Once everyone has left the room, I sit down in the chair that was recently vacated. Bob gives me a few moments to myself before he speaks up. “I know you, Gauge, well enough to feel confident when I say you are not going to let this go, are you? I know what you told them, but I also know you would never turn your back on a woman in danger. So you do what you need to do, know I have your back. Now, get out of here and get to work.” Just like that, I am dismissed with a nod of his head and a wave of his hand toward the door.

  For three months, I stay in the shadows and watch Lex without her knowing, looking for any signs that she is in danger. The signs never show themselves. We also spend quite a bit of time together outside of work, and not once does anything seem out of the norm. Everything seems to be as it should be, so either those dicks were overreacting, or they found her brother and handled their shit on their own.

  Tonight, though, I have something special planned for us.

  “Where are we going, Gauge?”

  “You’ll see. Now, be quiet and just enjoy the ride.”

  “Oh, hell no, you did not just tell me to shut up.” Her spitfire is coming out.

  “No, I told you to be quiet, not shut up. There is a difference. Now, get on the back of my bike, or we’ll be late.”

  Without hesitation, Lex straddles the back of my bike, grabbing my waist with one hand and pinching my nipple with the other.

  “Ouch, you’re gonna pay for that,” I tell her.

  “Promises, promises,” she yells back from behind me.

  The weather is nice out tonight, probably in the low eighties, and perfect for a bike ride. When we pull up out front of the tattoo shop, I hear Lex scream with excitement. I kill the engine and wait for her to climb off before I drop the kickstand.

  “You ready, Lex?”

  “Are we really doing this, Gauge?”

  Last week, Lex inquired about the tattoo on my a
rm. She wanted to know if it had any significance to me. It has huge significance to me. See, the background is a motorcycle engine, signifying my time with the Renegades and my connection to Blaze. The skull represents my out-of-control, carefree life, and the fact that it wears an American flag supports that I was once on the right side of the law, while the flames are a symbol of my life and how everything had gone up in flames. My elbow is covered with a spiderweb to signify my time in prison and being caught in the web of the man.

  When she said she always wanted a tattoo but was too afraid to get one, I decided it was time I introduced her to the therapy that is ink. There is nothing as relaxing as the sound of the gun while it vibrates, or the pinch of the needle as it marks your skin, making it feel like it's on fire. I’m addicted to it, and now she will be.

  “You wanted ink, Lex, you’re getting ink.”

  I watch her fist bump the night air when she says, “Yes!”

  Three hours later, Lex is climbing on the back of my bike again, this time with her new tattoo. I told her to be sure to choose something that has meaning, otherwise it’s just a waste of time and something with the potential for regret later down the road. “If it has meaning, you’ll never be sorry you got it,” I said.

  She chose a four-leaf clover surrounded by scrolls and swirls of lines around it, and placed it on her shoulder. Below the design is the word REBORN. Curiosity has me wanting to know what it means, but I’m not going to ask. If she wants me to know, she will tell me when she is ready.

  “Your place or mine, Lex? I want an up close look at that art.”

  “Why didn’t you look at it when we were inside before she covered it?”

  “Because when I look at it, I want to be buried balls deep in your pussy, taking you from behind.”

  Kassidy/Lexie—Will The Real Person Step Forward

  IF I’VE LEARNED anything in my lifetime, it’s that things happen when you least expect them to. It’s a Saturday night, and Lex is scheduled to work at Fetishes, not The Sweet Spot. She bounces back and forth between the two. When she isn’t scheduled to dance, then she will fill in at Fetishes, checking members in.

  I know the minute she enters the building something is off. Call it my spidey sense, but just the way she moves through the building tells me she isn’t herself. It isn’t until I see her face that my concerns are supported. Her makeup is done well, but not well enough for me to not notice the bruise across her cheek.

  As she tries to move past me, I grab her by the wrist and pull her aside. “What the fuck, Lex? Who did that to your face?”

  “It’s nothing, Gauge, not your concern, so just let it go, please.” She tries to pull away from me as she speaks the words.

  “Not happening, Lex, so spill it now.”

  “Gauge, I’m late. We can talk about this later, OK?” Shaking off my hand, Lex pushes past me and further into the building.

  “This isn’t over with,” I call after her.

  I watch customers come and go from both of the clubs all night long. My senses are on high alert just waiting for something to go wrong, but it doesn’t. When three o’clock rolls around and the club is officially vacated with only the staff still remaining, it’s time to find Lex and get some answers to the questions that have been running through my mind all night long.

  I locate Lex upstairs cleaning one of the private rooms. “Hey,” I call out to her. “I think it’s time we talked, don’t you?”

  I watch her chest rise, her shoulders fall, and the uneasiness consume her. “I’d rather not, but something tells me you are not going to let this go.”

  I love that smart mouth of hers; it's what gets her into trouble, and one day I won’t be around to help her get out of it. “You got that right, sweetheart, this is something I won’t let go.”

  “Fine, Gauge, what do you want to know?”

  “Start with how you got that bruise on your cheek and end with the name and address of the fucker who did it so I can repay the favor.”

  “Geeze, you are my knight in shining armor. NOT. Can't you just let it go, please? It has nothing to do with anything that would concern you.”

  “Everything about you concerns me when someone has marked up that beautiful face of yours.”

  “Fine, but not here. Let’s go to your place. I don’t want to talk about it here.”

  Lex follows me back to my place, parking her car behind my bike and taking her own sweet time climbing the stairs to my front door. I can tell she doesn’t want to have this conversation, but too fucking bad; it’s going to happen. The outcome is what I’m unsure about. It will either end with me letting her go home, or me making her stay here while I go and kill the motherfucker who would strike a woman. I don’t care that I’m on parole and it’s a violation that could cost me. There is no way I will let that go. It also reminds me I still need to do something about Colt.

  Lex makes her way straight to the couch and plops down, pulling her legs up tight to her chest and resting her head on her knees. Apprehension rolls off her; she doesn’t want to have this conversation. She looks up at me as I walk past the couch on my way to the kitchen, tears building in her eyes, but she doesn’t say a word.

  Opening the refrigerator door, I grab two beers and walk back to the couch, hand her one as I sit down next to her, facing her with my knee up on the couch and my arm lying on the back.

  “Hit me with it, Lex, what happened?”

  “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Try at the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”

  She takes several deep breaths and stares out into space. I can see the wheels turning in her head. My gut tells me she is trying to figure out just how much she wants to share. After all, she is hiding something.

  “Gauge, my name isn’t Lexie. It’s Kassidy. I changed it four years ago when I left home. I moved to Arizona for a fresh start, where no one would know who I am. About a year ago, my brother came looking for me, wanting me to come home because our dad was sick.”

  She stops for a moment to rearrange herself on the couch. Takes several pulls from her bottle and then goes quiet again. The wheels are still turning in her head like she remembers something. The wave of emotions that spreads across her face is apparent, so I reach out and touch her leg, letting her know I am here for her.

  “So, Lex, I mean Kassidy, what does this have to do with your face?”

  “Call me Lex, please. That is who I am. Kassidy died four years ago, or at least that is what everyone believes,” she states as the tears roll down her cheeks.

  Black lines mark her face from the mix of salt water and mascara. I reach behind me to the end table to grab a couple of tissues and hand them to her.

  “Thank you.” She looks around me to the end table, spotting the box of tissue and a bottle of lotion. A smirk crosses her face. “Do I even want to know?”

  “Don’t ask,” I say, shaking my head. “Keep talking, babe, we have a lot of ground to cover, and to say I’m not intrigued would be a lie. So, let’s start with why everyone thinks you are dead.”

  I learn that Kassidy McLean is the daughter of Scott McLean and sister of Bobby McLean. Those names don’t ring any bells for me, but as she continues, it all starts to fall into place. The McLeans are part of a crime family back east, a ton of shit went down four years ago, and the only way Scott McLean could protect his daughter was to make it appear as if she were dead. He enlisted the help of the Feds in a trade for information that brought down another crime family. No one was to know where the information came from; that was the deal that was made to protect her.

  Of course, none of this rings any bells for me because I was busy doing time. “So, what does this have to do with that mark on your face?”

  “Like I said, a year ago, my brother Bobby came looking for me. I thought I hid my tracks pretty well, but apparently not well enough if he found me. My dad was really ill, and he was asking for me, said he needed to see me. But I refused and sent my bro
ther on his way.”

  Lex takes a moment again to contemplate where she is going to go next with her story.

  “About four months ago, Bobby came back to town. He was here on business and came looking for me again. Dad passed a few months earlier, which is why he was here on business, and he wanted to have dinner to talk about the money Dad left me. I told him to keep it, I didn’t want any part of that life ever again. Christ, Gauge, my dad died, and I couldn’t even go back to his funeral unless I wanted everyone to know I am alive, and I want no part of that life.”

  It’s all starting to fall into place now. The Feds aren’t worried for Lex’s safety. They want information from her on where to find her brother. They are hoping he will show up again and that I’ll tip them off when he comes around. Those lazy fuckers are hoping I’ll do their job for them. No wonder they were so pissed when I refused to cooperate.

  “So, Lex, get to the part of how you got that bruise, will you.”

  “Yeah, so Bobby is back in town, and he shows up at my door again. This time, he wants me to talk to Mom. Seems Dad left several important pieces of property in her name and he wants them, but Mom won’t sign them over to him. She says Dad told her to hold them for me in case I ever want them. I told him I’d call Mom and let her know I don’t want anything to do with those stupid properties, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He wants me to come home, but I refused. Things got a little out of hand, and he slapped me. Told me I needed to know my place. I showed him his place when I hit him on the head with my shoe and ran out the door. Haven’t been back since.”

  “What the fuck, Lex, where have you been staying?”

  “A couple of the girls have been letting me sleep on their couches. I’ve been bouncing back and forth between them.”

  “You do realize your brother probably knows where you are and you aren’t really hiding, right?”