Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 (30 page)

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Authors: Lori G. Armstrong

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Suspense, #Brothers and sisters, #Women private investigators

BOOK: Shallow Grave-J Collins 3
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He tossed me his T-shirt and my pants. With nothing on beneath his vest besides muscles and a colorful network of tattoos, he epitomized tough and dangerous.

Be still, my heart.

I dressed and curled in the corner of the couch and wished I had a cigarette. And a shot of tequila. I didn’t see a bar cart in here. Fat Bob’s was a more hospitable place.

Martinez didn’t turn on more lights. Nor did he sit down. He leaned against the wall and stared across the dark room.

How long before he told me what was eating him?

“Remember when I went to Omaha?”

344

Not long at all. “Yeah.”

“You have any idea why?”

“You said routine Hombres business?”

He made a disgruntled noise. “Th

at’s what I thought.

I got down there and had seven chapter presidents waiting to jump my shit.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Th

ings have gone to hell in the last few months.

Shipments intercepted. Arrests of our distributors.

Problems we’ve never had before. Th

ey think we’ve got

someone on the inside feeding the cops or the Feds or whoever information.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not. Th

ey are. Th

at’s why we had another meet-

ing in Denver. Th

ey’ve accused me of knowing about it

and ignoring the problem.”

I shivered. “How long do they think you’ve known?”

“Since before Harvey died.” He closed his eyes.

“Th

ey had the balls to question Harvey’s loyalty.
Harvey.
Fuckers. Harvey had been with me longer than anyone. He was with me when I took the presidency.”

Took the presidency. Not “was elected” or “won.” I really did not want to know what that coup entailed.

Yet, this was the most Martinez had ever talked to me about Hombres politics. It’d be easy to say the wrong thing. Easy for him to clam up. So I listened.

345

For the fi rst time since Harvey’s death, I wondered who he had to talk to about this motorcycle gang stuff .

He hadn’t been confi ding in me. He and Jackal barely tolerated each other. Big Mike? Maybe. I glanced at him, noticing the fi ne lines at the corners of his eyes and the furrowed ridge between his brows. Th e tense

set to his shoulders. Some attentive lover I’d been. Too concerned with my own problems to consider he had problems of his own.

My face fl amed. I felt like the most self-centered woman on the planet. “What did you do?”

“Knocked some heads together.”

“Fighting always makes me feel better.”

“Might be perverted, but damn, I’ve got a thing for watching you fi ght, blondie.”

“Next time you should put Charity and me on the main stage and sell tickets. I’ll make sure she bleeds.”

He smiled slightly.

“Has anything changed since you came back?”

“Oh, yeah. Jackal thinks he’s fi gured out who it is.”

“Who?”

Martinez’s laser gaze burned into me. “He thinks it’s you.”

“Me?” My heart rate kicked up. “Why the hell would he think that?”

“Because you used to work for the sheriff . Because 346

you’re still around law enforcement all the time. Have you been meeting with Sheriff Richards recently?”

“Yes. Between Lang Everett’s accident and me discovering those bones in that stock dam, yeah, I’ve had no choice but to spend time in the sheriff ’s offi ce. But it

hasn’t been me breezing in there just to chat and create nefarious plans.”

“Bones? When the hell did you fi nd bones?”

“Last week. Sheriff ’s orders I had to keep it under wraps until the DCI identifi ed the remains.”

“No wonder you acted so weird that last night we were—”

“Yeah, I know, you left.”

“You think I wanted to leave?”

“You sure as hell didn’t act like you wanted to stay.”

Th

e vein in his neck throbbed. “I can’t fucking believe the shit you get into.”

“Is that why I’m under suspicion?”

“Partially. Jackal thinks you’re the ideal plant because you’re so obvious.”

My cheeks grew hot. “Th

at slimy little fucker.

Where does he get off accusing me? He doesn’t even know me. And I don’t have a clue about the Hombres organization, Martinez, you know that. You don’t believe him, do you?”

He stared at me.

347

“For Christsake! It makes more sense the problem is Jackal. He gets voted in chief enforcer and suddenly everything goes to shit? He knows everything that goes on.
He’s
around you all the time, not me. Except for when you have to go to those out-of-town meetings, leaving him in charge, right?”

Martinez nodded.

“Blame someone else. Right. Smart move, throw suspicion on the secret girlfriend.”

“Julie . . .”

I felt absolutely ill. “I don’t believe this.”

Th

e chains on his jeans rattled as he switched posi-tions. “I don’t believe it either. Any of it.”

My gaze caught his. “Th

at’s a big fucking relief.”

Again he watched me. I fought the urge to babble.

“See? Him accusing you? Th

at’s where Jackal made

his mistake.”

“How so?”

“Like you said: He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know me, and he sure as hell doesn’t have a clue of what we went through last summer.”

Martinez and I had seen lots of death up close and personal. We’d been forced to trust each other, and within that trust we’d forged a bond most people couldn’t understand. Th

ey certainly couldn’t see it, although it

was there. And that bond—one I’ve never experienced 348

with another lover—is why I hadn’t walked away from him. What pulls us together is not just physical. It’s deeper than lust and scares me like nothing else.

“Th

at relief might be short lived when I tell you what I’m up against.”

Everything inside me fi lled with dread again.

“I’ve given Jackal and every other Hombres member who knows about you the impression it’s strictly sex between us. Know why?”

I shook my head.

“Because if they thought diff erently, they’d use you as leverage with me. Th

ey’d expect you to show up at

the club parties. Th

ose parties are free for all sex, drugs,

and booze.”

“Do you go to the parties?”

“I avoid them whenever possible. If I brought you to the clubhouse as my old lady, you’d consider the treatment of the club’s female groupies . . . barbaric and get pissed off . Th

en you’d voice your opinion. Which is bad

for you because women’s opinions aren’t welcome. It’d also be bad for me because I’d look pussy-whipped.

“But if I didn’t bring you and people knew we were together, it’s an insult to my brothers. To put it in the crudest terms: Th

ey wouldn’t make
me
pay for the insult, they’d make you pay. Th

ey’d track you down outside of

the clubhouse and consider you fair game.”

349

“Fair game?”

“If you’re good enough for me, but I’m not willing to put you under my protection, you’re good enough for them. All of them. Th

ey’d pass you around like a blow-

up toy. A gang bang is only the beginning.”

I swallowed hard.

“On the other hand, if you’re offi

cially with me, you

would in eff ect become the property of the Hombres. If you didn’t do whatever the members asked, told you, or demanded of you, you’d be subject to punishment. Torture. Rape. And there isn’t a goddamn thing I can do about it.”

I looked at him like it was the fi rst time I’d truly seen him.

He began to pace. “I don’t agree with the shit they do. I didn’t even before I was president. I don’t encour-age it, discourage it, or participate. So, if all of a sudden I started wigging out about any of them putting a single fucking fi nger on you, it’ll just confi rm Jackal’s suspicions that I’m protecting you for some bigger reason.”

“Th

is is insane. I don’t understand why you—”

“Th

at’s another thing I can’t explain, Julie. It’s who I am. Th

e Hombres are
what
I am. We don’t live by anyone’s rules but our own. Sometimes those rules suck.”

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been treating me like this for my own good?”

350

“I know it sounds harsh—”

“It sounds like complete and total bullshit!” I leapt to my feet. “I can’t do this, Martinez. You’ll either own up to what this is between us, not only to me, but to everyone, including your archaic ‘brothers’, or you’re gonna have to walk. You can’t have it both ways.”

I made a beeline for the door and tripped over my shoes. I heard, “Fuck!” then a hard thump.

I turned and watched Tony put his fi st through the wall a second time.

“Own up to what’s between us? You drive me absolutely fucking crazy.” He was by my side in the blink of an eye. “I should let you walk out that door. I’ve tried to stay away from you, but it’s pretty obvious I can’t. I don’t
want
to. Goddammit, I’ve given up enough for this goddamn organization and I’m not giving you up too.”

I was as dumbfounded by his unexpected declaration as I was pissed off by it. I pushed him. He didn’t budge. “
Th

is
is how you tell me you care about me and want more than a casual relationship? By including it in another ‘you drive me crazy’ rant and swearing at me?”

“Surprised?”

“By your boorish behavior? No. Th

at you actually

admitted I’m not a casual fl ing? Yes.”

He cradled my face in my hands and wouldn’t let me look away. “Th

is hasn’t been casual since the day we met.”

351

“It’d be easier if it was.”
Breathe. Th
ink this through

before you do something rash.
“Okay, I’m just talking off the top of my head here. It’s obvious I don’t know anything about club protocol, but it seems to me if you’re the president, you should get to make the rules. Or break them. Or change them. What’s the point of being the Grand Pooh-bah if you’re not aff orded special privileges and can pull rank whenever you feel like it? You might as well be a lowly pledge.”

Martinez studied me so thoroughly I thought I’d said the wrong thing again.

“What?”

He sighed. “How is it that you know exactly how to cut to the chase?”

“Yeah, the tact gene sort of skipped me.”

“But the solution was so goddamn obvious I didn’t see it.”

I traced the frown line between his eyes. “You might have seen it if you would’ve talked to me about this sooner.”

“True, but I haven’t been talking to anyone. I don’t know who to trust. Been a rough go with the Hombres these last few months. I haven’t gotten my bearings back since Harvey . . . and if I’m not focused on club business all the time I’m accused of letting things slide.”

One guess for the most vocal accuser: Jackal. “
Have
352

you been letting things slide?”

“No. Appears I’ve been a fucking fi gurehead who lets lesser members dictate how I run things. No more.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Come out fi ghting.”

“Might be perverted, but I can’t wait to watch you kick some ass, El Presidente.”

Martinez rested his forehead to mine. “Last chance to walk out that door, blondie.”

“Tony, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Th

ank God.”

Th

e lingering pause was as perfect a moment as I’d ever experienced.

He stepped back and frowned as his gaze traveled down the V-neck T-shirt and the exposed line of my throat. “Where’d you get that cut?”

Crap. I thought it’d healed. Evidently in the heat of passion he hadn’t noticed the puncture wound above my breast. So much for the short lived perfect moment.

“Umm. It’s a long story.”

Martinez lifted a brow. “Some place you gotta be that you can’t tell me now?”

“Downstairs to fi nish my shift?”

“You’re fi red. Start talking.”

I sagged on the couch and told him everything. Th e

deeper I detailed the fucked up events, the more surreal 353

it sounded even to me, and I’d lived it.

Martinez hadn’t said a word. Silent rage poured from him, until the air in the room pulsed with it. After I fi nished speaking, he stalked to the wall and smashed his fi st through it three more times.

Christ. I needed a drink. Th

en he loomed over me.

I became shrink-wrap against the sofa in the heat of his anger.

“You should’ve called me. No matter how pissed off you were at me, I had a right to know. Since I’ve ‘owned up’ to what’s between us, understand this: no one gets away with laying a fucking hand on you.
Ever
. May be archaic, but if they mess with you, they mess with me.

Th

at’s how I operate. If you can’t live with it, then there’s the door.”

“But—”

“Th

is is a non-negotiable point, Julie.”

“Fine.”

“However, there is a line. If you go out and start causing trouble, invoking my name as protection, we will have problems.”

“I can get into trouble just fi ne on my own, Martinez.”

“I know that only too well.”

We stared at each other. Had anything changed?

He clasped my hand and helped me to my feet.

“Let’s get out of here and I’ll take you home.”

354

“Why don’t we go to your place?” When he didn’t respond I said, “You don’t live at Fat Bob’s, do you?”

“Seems like it.” He shut off the lights and locked the doors as I slipped on my shoes.

I followed him to a steel door covered in locks at the end of the hallway. “What’s in there?”

“My private suite.”

“Do you live
here
?”

Martinez spun around. “What’s up with the interest in where I live?”

“Because I’ve never been there. And honestly, I’d like a chance to snoop through your personal stuff . See if you secretly listen to show tunes. If you collect Hum-mel fi gurines. If you wear pastel pajamas covered with dancing cats, that sort of thing.”

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