Club Justice (25 page)

“I wasn’t kidding.”

“I know you weren’t. That’s why I love you.”

“Because I’m a grouch ass?”

Ginny giggled at the sparkle in Zeke’s eyes, but her answer was straight from the heart.

“Nah, because you’re the only one who has ever put me first.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ginny felt a prickle of unease run along her nape as she stepped out of the house. Running her hand over the back of her neck, she scanned the neighborhood. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the feeling of apprehension didn’t lift. Clutching her purse, she hurried her step. Sliding into the car, she rolled her eyes at her skittish behavior, but impulsively bumped the door locks.

The streets of Trinity were bustling with early morning activity. The feeling of being watched didn’t let up, but at least here the gawkers were obvious. Keeping her head high, Ginny met the eyes of any brave enough. Regardless of what her mother thought, she refused to let the hometown gossipmongers shake her. The bell on the bookstore door was cheery and nostalgic, bringing a smile to her lips. Waving to Tamara, who was working, she skirted her way through the café tables in the corner to join the contractor who was rebuilding The Lantern. 

“How’re you holding up, Ginny?”

“I’ve had better weeks,” she said, appreciating the man’s frankness. “We’ll get through it.”

“Maybe these will help.”

Looking over the drawings he offered, she felt a niggling of excitement.

“It looks so much bigger,” she whispered, absently accepting the Irish cream cappuccino he had ordered for her.

“Extending the east side of the building to the sidewalk gave us another nine foot. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but it makes a considerable difference.”

“We’re going to be able to do that with the insurance money?”

“The original structure was solid brick and that is what the policy will pay for. The rebuild will be a brick veneer. This gives you the brick look you want with better insulation and at a lesser cost, which will allow the expansion.

“Leave it to Ginny to find a way to benefit from misfortune. It reminds me a bit of how she captured her husband.” 

Swinging around, Ginny gave Flo her sweetest, most condescending smile.

“Not everyone employs your method of spreading your legs until one of them can’t escape the gravitational pull.”

Flo’s painted features twisted in pure hatred and for a moment Ginny thought the older woman would make her day and take the first swing. Her next words packed a punch.

“I can understand your bitterness. It must still rankle that I turned Zeke’s head so easily.”

“You waited until he was liquored up and pounced on him in his sleep. You are a regular femme fatale.”

“Our son is proof Zeke wasn’t too drunk to do the deed.”

“Just too drunk to remember it.”

“I’m sure it makes it easier to delude yourself into believing that it was a one-time thing.”

“If I thought it was anything different, you wouldn’t be breathing.”

The menace in Ginny’s voice crept over the hushed bookstore like a killing frost.  An elderly patron sat her basket down and hobbled out the door. The bell jangled discordantly in her wake.  

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Ginny and Flo both turned to look at Tamara. The grim expression on the brunette’s face left no doubt she was serious. Ginny’s chin raised a notch in question, but Flo’s blustering held Tamara’s attention.

“You can’t throw me out.”

“We have the right to refuse service. The sign is on the door. You’re harassing a paying customer.”

Flo’s eyes narrowed in hatred as Ginny raised her cappuccino in a mocking salute. She opened her mouth to protest, but Tamara cut her off.

“Leave.”

“Surprise, surprise, biker trash sticking together,” Flo sneered, backing away from Tamara’s authoritative advance. “Trust me. Your manager will hear about this.”

“I am the manager, and I asked you to leave.” 

Backing the spandex queen to the door, Tamara reached around her and pushed open the door in silent dismissal before sauntering back to the counter.

“Nice job, grasshopper,” Ginny called, hazel eyes sparkling.

“Please. My four-year-old is a bigger challenge.”

“That was intense,” the contractor said taking a bracing swallow of his coffee as Ginny turned back to the plans.

“Welcome to my world.”

Ginny had a bounce in her step not even the staring busybodies could dampen as she ran errands around town. The plans for the new Lantern were amazing. With the last of the permits out of the way, the contractor had promised work would start bright and early the next day. With hard work, and a little luck, the building would be up before the snow flew. It felt good. She prayed this was the first step back to normalcy for her family. The Brawer’s had taken more than their fair share of shots in the past few months.

A familiar cock-sure strut caught her attention and she froze with a hand on the Charger’s door handle. As quick as she spotted him, the man disappeared into the alley next to the bakery. A chill crept through her. Heart pounding, she forced her legs to move. Breaking into a trot, her stiletto-heeled boots clicked rapidly against the sidewalk. She rounded the corner, heart in her throat.

Eyes scanning the empty alley, she gnawed on her bottom lip and slipped a hand into her purse. The chilled grip of her Glock offered reassurance as she slowly backed away from the shadowed passageway. Even in broad daylight, it felt foreboding. Hefting her bag back to her shoulder, she tried to still the shaking of her hands. Tyson was back in Trinity and being none too discreet about it. She glanced in the window of the bakery and her eyes met with Miriam’s.
The bakery.
Tyson had come to see his mother. The older woman offered a smile and a little wave. Ginny forced herself to return the greeting.

How could Miriam look so calm? It had been part of the agreement when the Lords stripped his cut, throwing him out of the club, that Tyson leave and never return. His mother knew that. Half of Trinity knew that. Ginny wet her lips and looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. For the first time since finding out about Mox, no one was staring. She glanced over her shoulder as she headed for the car. The alley was still empty.

Settling into the driver’s seat, Ginny shook her head, fumbling to insert the key into the ignition. Had she imagined it? Maybe she was mistaken. It had been twenty years, people change.
But their mannerisms don’t,
the little voice whispered. She was sure of that cocky strut, similar to Zeke’s swagger, but exaggerated and brash like the man himself.

Pulling away from the curb, she circled the block, scouring the sidewalks for him. She chewed her thumbnail as she moved away from the main drag and into the residential blocks. Her stomach knotted. Slowing even further, she crept past Miriam’s well-kept Victorian home, craning her neck for a glimpse of Tyson. Nothing. She was losing her mind. Blowing out a calming breath, she checked her rearview mirror and accelerated.

She argued with herself as she drove home. As much as she wanted to say she had seen Tyson, there was an equal part of her that just wanted to think that he would never be so foolish as to return to Trinity. If the Lords caught him, he was a dead man. She pulled the car into the garage, eyes sweeping the interior, and closed the door behind her before she got out. As crazy as it sounded, it couldn’t hurt to be careful. She wasn’t the girl he had messed with twenty years ago. She was smarter.

Ginny let her forehead rest against the front door for a moment before she opened it. Could this day get any better?

“What do you want?”

“Is that any way to greet family?”

“You’re my father’s brother. I have my own family now.”

“Family doesn’t just stop being family, Virginia.”

“I keep hoping if I pray hard enough,” Ginny said with a rueful smirk.

“Your father would be ashamed to see how you have turned out.”

“In case you have forgotten my relationship with my father, he wasn’t impressed when he was here. I doubt the haze of hell is improving his sight.”

Her uncle’s lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure.

“Your mother is worried about you.”

“Of course that is why you’re here. My pious mother wanting to judge my marriage is laughable. Zeke might not be perfect, but he is a good husband and father. ”

“Is it wrong for a mother to want her daughter and grandchildren safe?”

“She wasn’t so concerned when she was hiding bruises and black-eyes, relieved when her husband’s fists found my brother and me instead of her.”

“You’re quick to judge.”

“All I know is that I would rip Zeke’s arm off and beat him to death with it before I let him hurt one of my boys.”

“Is what he did any better?”

“If there is one thing I learned growing up in my father’s household, it’s that this is a man’s world. I went into marriage understanding that and with the knowledge that men will be men. In the world Zeke walks in, I never deluded myself that he would forsake all others. It was his choice that pissed me off.”

“Cleared or not, he killed Randall Porter, and now the authorities believe Zeke is responsible for your brother’s death?” he asked. “Do you even know what Zeke Brawer is capable of?” 

“Porter was a rapist and murderer. Forgive me if I don’t shed a tear. Zeke was with a unit that was clearing the road. That doesn’t make him responsible for Trent’s death.”

“Your mother feels differently.”

“I’m glad you and my mother are getting so close, because if she keeps up her bullshit you can pay her bills.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“You tell the bitch to keep bad mouthing my old man and see what I will and won’t do,” Ginny hissed, closing the door.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“How fucking stupid is she? Her whole world is crumbling around her ears and the bitch is still walking around like she’s the queen of Trinity Falls!”

Kramer winced as Flo’s voice rose to a near shriek in her jealous rage. Turning the truck stop coffee in his hands, he automatically nodded in commiseration. He had been listening to her rant for the past forty minutes. The woman’s hatred for Ginny Brawer was inspiring. He nodded to himself, wondering just what it was he had to do to bring the self-appointed queen to her knees. He’d stripped her of both security and dignity, and neither were enough. The bitch was still standing.

Had he been wrong in pegging Ginny as the chink in Brawer’s armor? Everyone had an Achilles’ heel. His eyes drifted closed as the cast flitted through his mind. He had to give it to Zeke; he was very selective in the people he surrounded himself with. His biker brethren were rock solid, second only to his old lady in their unwavering loyalty. Lombardi had been his best bet and he had pissed that opportunity away. What was he missing?

“Are you even listening to me?”

The strident tone ripped him from thought and for a moment rage bubbled up inside Kramer. It took effort to push the darkness back down and force a troubled nod for the shrieking harpy.

“Zeke, the cars, the house, the designer boots, it all should’ve been mine. That bitch stole my life. She reeled Zeke in with her sob story and he bit hook, line, and sinker.”

“Even your son,” he mused with a sympathetic grimace. 

“Exactly!” Flo said, jabbing a taloned finger in his direction. “I could have had it all! How did I not see the resemblance? Now that he’s no use to me, do you know that ungrateful brat wants to change his name to Mox Brawer? What kind of name is that? I’m sure she gave it to him. It was just another ploy on her part to hurt me through Zeke and I’s son. She claims she didn’t know all these years, but I don’t buy that for a minute. My son is the spitting image of his father. Just like everything else, she wanted what was mine.” 

Remembering the scar on Mrs. Brawer’s prominent cheekbone, Kramer hid a smirk. He was willing to bet Flo’s incessant bitching wouldn’t fly with the dominating detective, quickly earning her a backhand or worse. That was something he wouldn’t mind seeing.

“There has to be a way to break her spell on him. If Zeke could just see her for the opportunistic slut she really is, I would be there to help him pick up the pieces and mend his broken heart.”

Sayings concerning pots, kettles, and the color black swirled through his weary mind, and Kramer caught himself contemplating doing Brawer a favor and killing Flo now. Only the thought of her making the Brawer’s life further hell stayed his hand.  

Chapter Thirty

The first hint of fall coloring the Midwestern landscape made for a scenic ride as the Lords roared through rural Ohio with a couple hundred of their biker brethren. Cooler temperatures and dry skies had graced them with ideal weather for Murphy’s welcome to their ranks and a short charity ride.  Tooling back into town, they followed the processional to a hog roast set up on the Court House lawn for the riders. Dismounting, men stretched, shedding helmets and leathers before heading for the food.

Zeke bit into a crispy piece of pork, savoring the slight charcoal flavor and barbeque sauce. With the girls off to their spa weekend, the ride couldn’t have come at a better time. Getting out of Trinity was a load off his shoulders. A nudge to his ribs had him instantly searching the crowd, even as he waited for his Sergeant at Arm’s explanation.

“Tyson, nine o’clock,” Reaper hissed, his pale eyes narrowing in hatred on their former club brother. 

Zeke ran his tongue over his teeth, sweeping away the barbeque grit as he zeroed in on Tyson. A snarl curled his lip at the Tarantula patch on the pretty boy’s vest.

“Well it does seem scum attracts scum, doesn’t it?” Bowie muttered with a sniff of disgust.

Zeke searched out Rhys. Mox was shadowing him. He didn’t trust either to run into the man that had tried to rape Ginny.