Bad Apple (The Uncertain Saints MC #4) (5 page)

“You got your head on straight?” He waited. “You’re not going to freak out on my sister?”

I opened my mouth, then shut it, shaking my head.

“I think I do,” I finally settled for. “Y’all are helping.”

Ridley’s eyes sharpened.

“What?”

His face was clouded in confusion.

“Y’all asked me why I wanted to be a part of the Saints a couple of months ago when I started prospecting,” I cleared my throat. “What you just said—
my best friend
—he was the reason. On top of everything else. I just needed…something.”

“That’s not what you said to Peek,” he said carefully.

Peek was the club president.

“It also wasn’t a lie. Just not the total truth,” I told him just as carefully.

“So you do have PTSD.”

I nodded.

“And you’ve attempted suicide,” he continued.

I looked up at him sharply.

“How?” I asked.

“Got a good man named Silas. He’s a fucking genius at finding information,” he answered. “That’s how I found out about your best friend. And your hospital stays after you killed him. You still think about doing that?”

“Not so much anymore,” I answered slowly, trying very hard not to be sucked in by the memories.

Ridley looked at me for so long that I wondered if this wasn’t going to go a different way.

He surprised me, though, by nodding.

“I know why you did it. I’m not saying I’d ever do it the same way, but I know why. And I respect that. But you need to tell Peek exactly why you’re here, or I will,” he informed me.

I nodded, swallowing thickly.

I’d been waiting for this.

I’d always planned to tell them, but to just spout your every fault, failure and insecurity, was a fucking nightmare in and of itself.

It wasn’t easy to tell someone something that they could later hold against you.

I’d intended to tell them everything, but it’d just been hard.

Too hard.

I drove to work on autopilot.

Today, I was working a new spot on the Caddo River, and I was curious as hell to see if my suspicions would hold water.

Duck season had ended the past weekend, and I’d assumed, yesterday, that everyone would realize that.

Seeing as this was my second duck season as a game warden, my first alone, I’d honestly never thought that anyone wouldn’t know that.

I mean, there was a fucking rule guide.

So color me surprised when I arrived to run the river and found two men out duck hunting.

I’d given them a warning.

They were eighty something years old and had a stamp for the current year.

They also hadn’t done any killing that morning, so I was lenient.

It was up to my discretion.

However, after I’d let them go, I’d seen them go up into a crop of trees and head to their house that was just off the main part of the lake.

Then, almost as an afterthought, I’d decided to do a little checking around about them.

What I’d found hadn’t been good, either.

And after calling the old warden that used to run this particular stretch, I’d become more than slightly pissed.

In fact, I would classify it as being a lot pissed.

Those motherfuckers had played me.

McGraw had had quite a bit of shit to say about the pair, and the more I heard, the more solid my plan was.

I’d go to the exact spot I’d seen them at that morning, and if I didn’t find them there, I’d keep looking for the little fuckers until I did.

After arriving at the station, I hooked up the boat to my truck, and then checked to make sure everything I needed was in the boat.

After a quick stop inside to check my company email and voice messages, I was off.

I arrived at the spot I’d found the two men yesterday, and was awarded with the sight of the two men.

This time, I caught them red-handed.

And I knew they knew that they were in trouble.

“Hello, gentlemen.”

Twenty minutes later, I had the two old men handcuffed on the seat of my boat. Their boat was tethered to the back of mine, and I was heading up river to the boat ramp.

The four birds that the men had killed were laying in evidence bags at my feet, and I was hot.

Not only had the men shot birds out of season, they’d also shot
protected
birds.

My eyes caught on Ridley who was waiting for me on the dock, his eyes blank.

I pulled up to the pier, hooked my boat to the dock, and headed to the two men.

“Get up,” I ordered them.

The two of them got up and walked to the side of the boat.

Ridley and another young deputy I’d seen that morning, reached out and helped them out.

“Take them up to the cruiser,” Ridley ordered the other deputy.

I grimaced, knowing it was coming.

“Two old men?”
His eyes sparkled. “Really?”

I sighed and took the line off my boat that the men had been using.

After tying it off, I reached inside the boat and took up the weapons they’d been using, as well as the birds.

“Can you run this into evidence for me?” I asked
. “And call someone to pick this boat up for me?”

The game wardens and the sheriff’s office used the same evidence collection facility, meaning that there was no reason on Earth Ridley should’ve denied me the help.

“What do I get in return?” He countered.

I gritted my teeth.

“What do you want?” I
leveled with him.

He smiled.

And I knew I wasn’t going to like his answer.

“Take my sister out on a date tonight,” he ordered.

I narrowed my eyes.

“What if she doesn’t want to go on a date with me?”

He shrugged.

“Then she’ll say no.”

I narrowed my eyes and wondered what his game was; but, in the end, I shrugged and went with it.

I was doing better.

Surely, one date wouldn’t change my life, would it?

If you have to force it, leave it. Friendships. Yoga poses. Relationships. Food. A fart. No matter what, that shit ain’t worth it.

-Note to Self

Kitt

My belly rolled, and I wanted to cry.

I was about to go on a date with Apple. My first date in so long that I couldn’t even begin to count.

Was it high school?

College?

No. I didn’t actually finish a date in college. My brother had had to come get me because the guy was being a dick and wanted more than I was offering.

So I’d called him from the bathroom and waited there until he came to get me.

That was when I started giving my brother’s number to anyone that asked for my number.

It was easier to not date, but there was something about Apple’s insistence over the last two weeks that really had me breaking down and giving in to him.

“You’re wearing that?” Ridley
eyed me.

I looked down at my jeans, boots and t-shirt.

“Yes.
Why?” I looked
behind me as best as I could to check out my ass.

No, there was nothing on it.

“Because you look so…plain,” he observed. “Can’t you do your makeup?”

I touched my cheek.

“I put mascara on, that’s about it. Why do you care how I look?”

“Because you come home whining about needing to do this or that differently. I’m just trying to make sure you get it right the first time,” he teased.

I flipped my brother off, and his phone chirped with a text.

“Who is it?” I
questioned when I saw my brother’s smile.

“Some guy named Jason. You remember him?” Ridley
murmured. I nodded, remembering him very well.

He was the toucher.

I’d stood next to him for all of ten minutes while we were waiting on his oil to get changed, and this man had been so unsuspecting.

I’d met him during my lunch break during classes yesterday and had immediately gotten that ‘weird’ vibe from him.

So what did I do when he asked for my number?

I gave him Ridley’s.

At first, it’d just been to tease my brother, but Ridley knew how to take a joke and had turned it into a hilarious endeavor.

Meaning now, whenever I met someone who asked for my number, I gave them to my brother.

Sure, it was cruel, but life was short, and I deserved to get a laugh every now and then.

“Core’s here,” Ridley said absentmindedly as he typed out a reply to whatever the man had sent to him.

I smiled and walked to the door.

“Why do you call him Core without him here, and Apple when he is?” I
called out as I peeked out the window.

Ridley didn’t reply until he was done texting Jason.

“Because I think it pisses him off,” he replied.

“Why do you want to piss him off?” I continued, watching as Apple parked his bike beside my brother’s and got off.

Ridley got up and turned off some lights, and I followed suit, catching the lights in the kitchen and my bedroom.

Ridley was going to work, and I was about to go on a date.

“You know,” I said as I flipped the one in the hallway off. “It’d be easier, as well as cheaper, if you’d shut a light off when you left the room.”

With the house dark like it was, I never saw him coming. Ridley grabbed me up around the waist and I screeched, flailing and kicking in response to the sudden movement.

My heart pounded in my throat as Ridley’s laughter echoed in my ear.

I elbowed him hard in the ribs when a light from someone’s flashlight shined in my face, causing me to shield my eyes.

“Damn, Apple. Is that a flashlight or are you happy to see me?” Ridley boomed as he put me down.

I pushed my brother away and walked towards Apple, an apology already on my face.

“My brother’s a peckerhead,” I enlightened him.

Apple’s face transformed into a brilliant smile.

“I knew that already. Are you ready to go?” He grinned.

I nodded, moving to the front door and looking at my brother warily.

“I won’t,” Ridley promised, almost sensing my disquiet.

I breathed a sigh of relief and walked out the door that Apple was holding open.

“What was that about?” Apple wondered as soon as we made it outside.

“That was me making sure my brother didn’t do anything stupid,” I informed him.

“What d
oes he normally do?” He took my elbow and guided
me down the walkway to his bike.

I bit my lip as I watched him get on.

He offered me his hand, and I smiled as I took it.

“Helmet!” Ridley bellowed from the front door.

I winced and looked at Apple.

He smiled.

“We’re just going down the road to my house,” he answered, not nearly as loud as Ridley had questioned him.

“I don’t care!” Ridley said rudely.

I patted Apple on the shoulder and mounted behind him.

“Go before he starts acting like an ass,” I ordered Apple.

Apple did, and I clutched him around the chest and laid my head on his shoulder.

Ridley was still screaming at us as we left, and I waved, using my middle finger to do it.

Ridley had the decency to laugh.

Apple never got up over fifteen miles an hour as we rode the short way to his house, and I found myself annoyed that the ride didn’t last longer.

Meaning I growled my disapproval.

“Did you just growl at me?” Apple questioned as he flipped the kickstand down on his bike.

I laughed.

“I wanted to ride longer,” I told him, explaining myself.

He patted my thigh and got off the bike, which seemed to be a signal for the dogs to come over and greet him.

“Sit,” Apple’s smooth, deep voice growled out.

The dogs, all five of them, sat.

And they were all massive, white, humongous, polar bear type things.

“Jesus,” I exclaimed. “These are freakin’ huge. What do they weigh, two hundred pounds?”

“Big Poppa is the biggest and oldest. He’s about one eighty. The rest trickle down from there,” he pointed, indicating the biggest.

“Wow,” I uttered. “That’s more than me.”

Apple’s grin was almost contagious and probably would have been had his laughter not been at the expense of my weight.

“Don’t even go there,” I ordered him.

He held his hands up.

“So what has your brother done to all your dates that you feel you have to gather a promise from him to make sure he behaves himself?” Apple asked, taking my hand and guiding me through the dogs that still hadn’t moved.

But they watched and wagged their long tails.

One such tail caught me on the back of one ankle, nearly throwing my leg out from under me.

Apple caught me before I could hit the ground, pulling me in front of him as he kept walking.

“Have you done that before?” I gasped on a breathless laugh.

Apple snorted.

“One or two times,” he answered, looking down into my eyes. “You have to be on your toes around them. They’re a little rambunctious when I allow them free time.”

“You allow them free time?” I
quivered.

He nodded.

“They’re working dogs. That’s what they love to do,” he answered, sweeping his hands up over the farm.

I stopped and looked at it.

It was a big farm; I’d give him that.

He’d led me around the main house to the back of the house, where a large barn overlooked sprawling pasture land.

Cows milled about, eating grass in the back pasture while goats climbed on top of the small storage shed in the closer one.

“Are they okay up there?” I bit my lip worriedly.

“They are.” Apple
promised. “Goats like to climb, and they’re escape artists. That’s why I have that ten-foot fence up, to keep them inside.”

I snickered.

“So where do the dogs go at night?” I
turned to him. “Do they come in?”

“They patrol the pasture land for predators,” he pointed to the cows. “We have about a hundred acres that butt up to our land and run straight down this road until they hit the main highway.”

“Your land is the one behind ours?” I asked
. “Is it your cow that keeps trying to come into our yard and eat our grass?”