Checkmate With Bishop: A Hellions MC Novel (17 page)

Wait…what?

“But I’m paid through the end of the month,” I started, confusion clear in my voice.

“And that is today.”  His face didn’t allow for argument but was settled along the lines of stubbornness.  “We will not be renewing your lease.”

“Why?”  That was the only question I could utter although a zillion others were crowding my brain.  To know that it echoed Stan’s one word inquiry from the day before hit me at my knees.

Mr. P.W. Smith had the grace to look away before his eyes came back to mine.  “Listen, Ms. Leone.  I’m just a business man trying to make a profit.  I got a call today that told me you needed to vacate the premises as soon as possible.”

“By whom?”

He swallowed and lifted a hand to settle the few strands that he used to try and conceal his bald spot.  “I’m not at liberty to say.  But what I can tell you is that the Hellions make up a lot of my business.  So much so, I can’t afford to cross them.”

I waved a hand toward the piles J.R. and I had made, at all that remained in the unit.  “How the hell am I supposed to get through all of this, in what?  Four hours?”

“That isn’t my problem, Ms. Leone.  But you do have my sympathy.  Can I make a call for a dumping service or for more people to help you in your endeavor?”

I looked back to where J.R. stood, statue-like as he listened to what was going on before my gaze slid to all that we had left to do.  “Yes to both.  Although, I have to say that I really don’t understand.  I’ve been a good, steady customer for many, many years…”

“Be that as it may, I still have to let you go,” he said and his voice wasn’t without sympathy.

“Because of the Hellions.”

“Yes, ma’am.  Because of the Hellions.”

I sighed, shading my eyes with one hand.  I knew when I was defeated.  “How soon can you get them here?”

“I’ll make the calls right away.”  He reached for the cell phone in his pocket and I started to turn away.  “If it makes any difference, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled before stepping back from the cart and turning back towards my stuff, the junk of my youth.  “You and me both.”

*.*.*.*.*

We were on our way back to the hotel, both of us covered in dust and more than beyond tired.  But we’d done it.

Cleaned out my storage area completely.  Albeit with the help of three, big, scary men, a garbage truck and a one of Missoula’s second hand store’s vans.

I wanted a hot shower, something to eat and my bed in order to sleep for a week or more.  That’s how long I thought it would take to get my energy back, in order for the soreness of my arms, hips and knees to go away.

Pulling into the Rosemont parking lot, I felt the tension in my shoulders release.  Just a few more minutes and I could call it a day before making my way to the hospital in order to go to Stan.  To demand an explanation for the unexplainable of what he’d said.

“Erm…Mom?” J.R. called from the passenger seat.  I turned to look at him, wondering at his tone of voice.  “What’s that?”

I followed where his eyes were looking and saw a lock on my hotel room door before shooting my glance to his room.  Both of them had weird things on their handles.

“Did they lock us out?”  My kid’s voice held all the incredulousness I had bubbling inside.

I immediately went into my version of ‘I’m-a-Mom’ mode, which when broken down was a mix of determination, savvy and just plain ol’ balls in the face of danger.   “Stay here, baby.  I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Unlatching my belt, I saw Ally and Mike standing behind the counter in reception, both of their long faces setting my expectations even before I opened the heavy glass door.  “Hey guys,” I greeted, pasting a wimpy-assed smile on my face.  “What’s up?”

“We’re so sorry, Dory!” Ally yelped, as she wrung her hands on the counter top.  At the wetness I could see on the shiny surface, they were sweating too.

“Got a call today, Dore.”  Mike’s voice sounded regretful, almost sorrowful.  I noticed he had a hand on Ally’s far shoulder and was kneading it.  “You can’t stay here no more.”

“I packed up all of yours and J.R.’s stuff,” Ally cut in and as I looked at her again, I could see there were tracks in her heavy foundation and her mascara was smeared. 

She’d been crying.

“It’s all right here, all your luggage and gear is sitting right here behind the counter safe and sound.”  I noticed her voice still held little hitches.  “We can get you into the Piedmont or there some efficiency units out by Greenough Park.  With one phone call, I can have you and your boy…”

“You’re turning us out?”  I honestly couldn’t believe Ally would do that.  “What’s happened to cause this?”

“We don’t have any choice, Dore,” Mike said, pressing a tissue into Ally’s palm as his fingers on her shoulder renewed their grip.

“They told us they’d pull their business if we didn’t move you out.”  Her voice hitched and she dabbed the fresh tissue first to one eye and then the other.

I took a deep breath, knowing, so goddamn
sure
of who had called them but I needed confirmation.  “The Hellions?”

She nodded but Mike just looked away from my accusing eyes.

“You gotta understand, Dore.  Why just a few months ago, they rented out an entire floor for an entire week!” Mike explained on a strident note.  “We just can’t afford to piss them off.  Not if we want to stay in business anyway.”

I got it, totally understood.

It was a message that, when combined with what I’d been given at Ace Storage, was a clear indication of what HMC had been putting into play while I’d been trying to tie up the loose ends of my life.

They wanted me and my kid gone.

I heard an engine as another SUV pulled into the parking lot and I turned to see who it was.  Mainly because I didn’t want to make a scene in front of another customer, causing Ally and Mike further distress with the tired temper-tantrum that was building inside me.

“Damn!” Mike exclaimed, his eyes filled with surprise as he took in the sight of the tall man that was just then exiting his car.  “What’s James doing here?”

It was at Mike’s words that I noticed the man was wearing a uniform and was placing a cap on his head.  A hat that bore a shiny, bright star.

“Hey, Mike.  Ally,” he greeted as he cleared the doorway.  “How you doing?”

His nondescript blue eyes settled on me and he nodded as if to acknowledge my presence.  “I’m here to serve some papers.  You got a Ms. Adora Leone staying here?”

I felt my stomach clench and my heart go into overdrive at his use of my name.

“I’m her,” I offered but I really didn’t need to say anything out loud because both Ally and Mike’s eyes had speared me, outing me, when the officer had spoken.  “You have papers?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded in such an officious way I found myself sneering at him inside my mind, though I was careful to keep my face blank.  “I have an order here remanding both you and your son to the State of Montana.”

“And that means
what
, exactly?”

“I wasn’t finished, ma’am.  If you don’t mind, I’ll get through it all and then you can ask your questions.”

I rolled my eyes at the man’s stiff-necked attitude but turned my body towards him while waving a hand away from me, palm-up.  “By all means…continue.”

He cleared his throat, and after casting a glance back to both Ally and Mike, began again.  “I’m serving you with papers that require both you and your son to remain in the great State of Montana as well as providing you with papers concerning the custody of one, Stanley Robert Bastian, Junior.”

What. The. Fuck?

I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t damn-well
think
for all the rage that shot through my system.  “And just who the hell filed these papers, officer?”

The tall guy that Mike had named as James, wet his thumb with his tongue before flipping through the sheets he held.  The crinkling of the papers was loud, so freakishly loud, in the small office.  “An attorney named David L. Stephenson.”

“On whose behalf?”

“That would be Stanley Robert Bastian…ah, senior, ma’am.”

“Bishop?” Ally asked, her overflowing eyes turned back to mine.  “Oh my god, J.R. looked so familiar and I couldn’t figure out how I knew him.  But J.R.’s his son, isn’t he?  Oh my god, Dory!”

‘Oh my god’ didn’t even begin to cover it in my opinion as I felt the floor of all my carefully crafted security shatter beneath my feet.  “So if I understand it right, I’m not allowed to leave the state and Stan is suing me for custody of our son?”  I needed to get it all out, the full truth of what was happening
completely
out in the open. 

My mom had always said you couldn’t deal with what wasn’t known.

The deputy, or whatever he was, made a moue of sympathy.  “That’s about the size of it, ma’am.”

“Let me get Lisa on the phone from that efficiency place up by the park,” Ally cried reaching for the receiver of the wireless phone that sat next to her terminal.  “If you’re gonna be in town a while, you’ll need a good, safe place to stay.  Two rooms or one?”

Without even thinking about it, my mouth replied.  “One.”

“Uhm, Dory?  With the Hellions pulling their credit card and such, we’ve gotta ask that you settle your bill,” Mike uttered and I was gratified to see he was blushing all the way to his roots as he asked.

“How much?”

“For two rooms at two days?”  He had the keyboard firmly underneath his hands as his fingers raced over the keyboard.  “That’ll be $387.50.”

Shit! 
Seriously?

“And you need to sign to denote receipt of the legal documents,” Officer James with-no-last-name added, shoving the thick stack of paperwork my way.

Grabbing a pen from the cup on the counter, I scrawled my signature with unnecessary roughness on his sheet to show I’d been served before turning back to Mike.  “I need to transfer some funds so I can pay you.  Taking care of all the stuff at the storage place maxed out my credit card.”

“You’re welcome to use our computer,” Mike offered and I couldn’t help calling him ‘bastard’ in my head.  Why be so nice when he was casting an old friend out and away?

Glancing back out to my car I saw J.R. avidly watching me with worry in his eyes.

Yeah, I was worried too.  But my concern had more to do with how to explain to my kid about all the shit raining down on the two us in that moment.

All because of a decision I’d made way back in the day, when I’d only been a naïve young woman who hadn’t been able to handle the life she’d chosen.  With the man she’d allowed in.

And the sigh that escaped as I entered my bank info into the Rosemont’s computer system pretty much summed up the hopelessness that was settling deep within my bones.

As J.R. had said…I’d sure fucked things up.

*.*.*.*.*

Bishop was dressed and just signing the last of the release papers when the bedside phone rang.  It had been a good morning, one where he learned he was being released even if he was told he wouldn’t get permission to go back to work for another couple of weeks so he could ‘heal at home’.  Something Stella explained was to ensure that he learned to adapt to his new lifestyle, the new way of eating they’d recommended before allowing him back into the real world.

“I know you, Bishop.  Know how you think just because you feel better means you can go back to your wild Hellion ways.  But those days are over, my friend.  You’ve got to relearn how to eat and to figure out how to handle stress, not to mention get your strength back.  That kind of stuff, those kinds of changes don’t happen overnight.”

“Two weeks, though?”  He remembered thinking that he sounded almost whiny with his question.

“Either you change or I’ll see you again real soon.  Only instead of helping you get the hell out of here, it’ll be to help you get over your surgery.”  Stella’s expressive brown eyes had been as serious as her tone of voice.

Bishop felt he had no choice but to agree.

Now he was just wanting for a ride in order to go home, dressed in clothes Huff and Carly had dropped off the night before but Bishop still didn’t have either his wallet or cell.  To his mind, the ringing phone more than likely signaled that Trey had sent a recruit to come and pick him up.

“Bishop,” he growled into the receiver.

“What the hell are you trying to do, Stan?”  The whisper that was barely heard over the sound of rushing water in the background was harsh and angry.  “Goddamit, all you’d had to do was ask and I would’ve been willing to discuss having J.R. visit you.”

It was Dory.

Dory who sounded as mad as a red hen.

“Yeah, right,” he replied with a snort.  “I know you, babe.  And am fucking learning about how you’ve grown into quite the little lying sneak in our time apart.  What makes you think I’d damn-well believe a fucking word out of your mouth?”

“But I…”she started, again on a whisper.  Where was she that she couldn’t talk to him in her regular voice?  “Stan, you’ve gotta believe me…”

“Listen to me, babe, and listen good, yeah?”  He’d deliberately cut her off, not wanting to hear another fucking, lying word come from her plump sexy mouth.  “I’ve met with an attorney and he says I have a good fucking chance of getting custody of the kid you’ve kept hidden from me all these years.”

“You aren’t even listed on his birth certificate!” she shot back, the anger and fury in her tone overriding the one he’d read as disbelief.

Bishop smiled but in all truth, it wasn’t an expression of humor or happiness but one of satisfaction.  “Something that’ll be rectified as soon as the fucking results of our DNA tests come back.  Did you get the papers yet?”

“Yeah, I got ‘em, both the ones regarding custody and the ones telling me I can’t leave the state.”

Bishop was surprised to hear about the latter as it wasn’t something he’d asked for in his phone conversation with Stephenson.  But if that was what was needed in order to ensure she didn’t make a run and go into hiding with his boy, Bishop would back that play with every motherfucking thing he had.  “Good.  You need to read them through thoroughly because it’s got the date, time and location so you can get J.R. to the clinic next week.”