Sinner's Son (Savage Sons Motorcyle Club) (19 page)

Tanner sighed. "Can you give us a minute? I'm going to need to make a phone call."

I stood up. "Take your time." I left the room, and I knew I'd won. I'd talked to my attorney before the meeting, and he'd told me that the feds could do pretty much whatever they wanted, and that there wasn't some oversight committee that would bust them for not prosecuting someone in this instance. All I'd needed to do was convince Tanner and Singer to consider it, and I had.

The door opened, and Singer stuck his head out. "Come on back in."

I sat back down and waited for one of them to speak.

"Deal," Tanner said. "My boss isn't happy about it, but she's agreed. But you'd better come through on everything you promised as far as Hall goes. He needs to go away for every second of the rest of his life."

"Oh, trust me. You haven't even heard the half of what he's done." I hadn't seen the need to give the feds any information other than what they'd needed to arrest Joker for having had the weed brought up from Mexico, but Sally had agreed to give them specifics -- along with evidence -- of every single meth lab they'd been running, and if he needed to, he promised that he could get someone in Fort Collins to testify about the breadth of the operation there as well.

"So what else do you want?"

I knew that as difficult as my first request had been, my second one would be even harder. "I want free passage for a Juarez woman named Maria Alvarez to the U.S. and a path to citizenship if she wants it." I leaned back in my chair and waited for the explosion.

Singer looked at me like I was crazy. "Um ... Luke, we're not the INS. That's not what we do."

"Well, if you want the information that I have about the cartel, then you're going to have to find a way."

"Can you at least tell us who Maria Alvarez is and why you want her out of Mexico?" Tanner asked.

"She's one of the prostitutes who works for Don Roberto."

Tanner shook her head. "Luke, we can't just let people in for no reason. She'd have to have skills that are in particular demand, or some other special circumstances for her to qualify for expedited immigration options."

"She doesn't have those sorts of skills, but she does have special circumstances. She can qualify for refugee status or asylum. She faces certain persecution if she stays, so the U.S. government can qualify her as a refugee and let her enter the country."

Singer rolled his eyes. "Well, it sounds like you've done your homework."

Tanner shook her head. "If she's eligible for refugee status, then what do you need us for?"

"Maria's thirteen-year-old daughter was raped and killed by Don Roberto's men. That's why Moses wanted out of the Sons -- because Joker wanted to do business in underage girls with Don Roberto. Don Roberto would sell the girls to the Sons, and the Sons would sell their virginity. Moses was disgusted by what the cartel did, and he came to the feds because he was disgusted by my father as well. It wasn't enough for Moses just to get out; he had to bring the MC down. Maria is the reason for all of this. You'd have no case if Moses hadn't been moved by her awful tale, and she deserves some peace and a chance at a new life."

Neither agent said a word for a while. They looked from me to one another and back to me.

Singer looked at Kate. "I think this is one of the instances we talked about before, where we just promise that we can get it done, Kate. Luke, this isn't going to be easy, but we'll somehow find a way and do it."

There was something in his tone that rang a little false to me. Bryan had warned me that the feds could promise the world and deliver nothing, and I'd have very little recourse, especially if what I was asking required them to bend the rules. I decided that I didn't trust Mark.

Finally, Tanner spoke. "I'll get the ball rolling. It may take us a few days, but I'll get it done. You have my word."

"Thank you," I told her, and I meant it. Krystal had insisted that Kate was a good person to have on your side, and I was starting to see things the way my brilliant fiancée did. She didn't look at Mark while she made her promise, and I believed that she intended to keep it.

The rest of the day was exhausting. We started with what I knew about Joker, and the process was ridiculously tedious. We went over each detail exhaustively, and I felt like I had to repeat everything twenty times or more. I stayed calm, though, knowing that I just had to get through the next few days and I would be able to look back and know that I'd actually helped to make the world a better place by ensuring that Joker and Don Roberto went to prison for a very long time.

By the time I headed out, the sun had set over the Rockies, and I realized that the bike ride home was going to be a chilly one. I knew Krystal was home already, and I hoped she'd have the fire going and something good for dinner. She'd been home for a week, and I could tell that she was getting tired of feeling useless and being waited on. I'd told her that I would take her out for dinner, but something told me that she might have shopped and cooked as a surprise.

Even before I opened the door from the garage to the kitchen, I could smell something amazing.

"Good Lord, that smells good..." My voice trailed off as Krystal rounded the corner of the island in the kitchen. Jesus Christ, as hungry as I was, I suddenly didn't care about dinner at all. "Goddamn, girl. I'm speechless."

She stood there, letting me take a good, long look at her. She had twisted her hair up into a messy bun, and a few stray tendrils of her dark hair were a gorgeous, soft contrast against the pale skin of her neck. She wasn't dressed like any chef I'd ever seen, but that was fine with me. She wore a short, white slip of a nightgown, and as soon as I saw her, I wanted to run my hands over the silky, thin fabric that covered, but barely concealed, her body. The thin straps of the gown led to a deep v in the back, so low that I could see the top of the tattoo on her lower back. The hem of the gown barely came to mid-thigh, and she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"Wow," I said, drinking in the sight of her. "I've been taking it easy on you while you've been recovering, but you'd better be feeling as good as you look. I'm not going to be able to control myself."

She smiled at me, the wicked look making her even more sultry. "I'm counting on that," she said, coming closer to me. She wound her arms around my neck, and I could see the faint trace of the bruises left on her face.

"You sure you feel up to all of this? The doctor said you should rest up." Even though it had been difficult, I'd slept with her in my arms every night since she'd been home, but I'd been afraid to have sex with her, afraid that I'd hurt her and she'd end up back in the hospital.

"I feel great, Luke. You've taken such good care of me that I feel back to normal. And I want you. It's been far too long."

"You're preaching to the choir, sweetheart." I pulled her closer and bent to kiss her, savoring the moment and taking my time. I'd been so worried about hurting her or making her head injury worse that I hadn't really touched her -- at least not the way I wanted to -- since I'd brought her home from the hospital. "I hope you're rested up and ready for this. It might take all night."

"Well, then, you're going to need a meal so you can keep it up all night long," she said with a smile.

"So besides you, what's on the menu?"

"Oh, nothing special," she said, though I could tell that she was lying through her teeth. "We're starting with some cantaloupe wrapped in prosciutto with goat cheese."

"How terribly boring," I said, bending to kiss her neck.

"Stop that, or we're going to end up in bed before dinner even starts."

"Fine with me. I'll eat you any day."

Krystal slipped her hands around to grab my ass and pull my hips toward her. I was certain that she could feel the beginnings of an erection.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek, moving her mouth to whisper in my ear. "I'll be your dessert," she said, before turning around and getting back to work in the kitchen.

I adjusted myself in my jeans. "What else is for dinner?"

"Baked halibut with a potato chip crust in a lemon-butter sauce, baby green beans, and couscous. I was feeling adventurous, and the lady at Whole Foods helped me with the menu."

"You drove all the way to Whole Foods? Baby, you could have told me and I'd have picked stuff up for you."

"It wouldn't have been a surprise, then, and besides, I didn't drive myself. Sable stopped down for coffee this morning, and she drove me there and back."

"Wow. Seems like the two of you have really mended fences. It wasn't that long ago that I thought she was gonna claw your eyes out."

Krystal laughed, and I realized that she was finally, completely in her element. She was happy -- maybe for the first time in her life -- and it showed. Her easy smile as she stirred the sauce on the stove just made me feel like I'd done something right in my life to deserve her. As messy as things had gotten, she was worth it. The time I'd spent in jail after Bug's death, the horror of worrying about whether she'd live or die -- all of it had been worth it to see this woman in our kitchen, so calm and beautiful.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I realized she'd said something and was waiting for a response from me.

"I'm sorry, baby. I was just thinking about how happy you look. What did you say?"

She smiled at me. "I am happy. And we're going to talk about something that will make me happier after dinner. What I asked was if you were ready to eat."

"Absolutely."

We sat at the dining room table, and I poured myself a glass of white wine from the bottle that Krystal had put on the table.

"I hope that's good," she told me. "The guy at the wine shop said it would be good with fish."

"You didn't put a glass at your place," I observed, starting to get up from the table.

"I'm good. I'm going to wait a little while before I have a drink -- make sure I'm completely back to normal," she said with a little smile.

"Smart girl. This looks amazing, Krystal. Like a fancy restaurant."

"It was actually pretty easy."

"Easy for you, maybe. So what was it that you wanted to talk about, my love?" I asked, taking the first bite of the absolutely heavenly halibut.

"We started to talk about this last week -- before the mess with Luis. I think we should get married."

"Oh, having tasted this fish, there's no way I'd ever let you get away. This is fucking amazing."

"Glad you like it. I'm serious, though. I think we should get married soon."

"I'm ready any time."

Krystal smiled at me and turned her attention to her dinner. "I'm glad you feel that way. I talked to Sable this morning, and she thought that maybe a Christmas wedding might be nice."

"Wow. You weren't kidding. That is quick."

"I just don't see any reason to wait. Unless you want to, of course." A hint of a pout started to appear on her face.

"Christmas is fine," I said. "I was just thinking that we'll all be busy with the shop up and running by then, but if that will make you happy, then I'm all for it."

Krystal nodded and ate her dinner.

"God, today was exhausting. I'd rather do a day of manual labor than spend the day with an FBI and a DEA agent. Going over all the details, over and over. Mind-numbing." I took a big drink of wine. "Or it would be mind-numbing if it weren't such awful stuff to talk about."

"It must be just terrible to spend all day on those horrible people and the evil things they've done." Krystal reached out and put her hand on mine. "You're a good man, and you're making the world a better place."

I put my fork down. "God, it's just depressing. When you think about the things people will do for power and for money ... it just makes me sick. I don't know how anyone could bring a child into the world while people like Don Roberto and Luis exist."

"What?" Krystal asked.

I'd been staring at the fire in the fireplace while I talked, and when I looked at her, all of the color had drained from her face. "What's wrong? Are you not feeling good? Is something wrong?"

She put her hand to her mouth, and stood up from the table. "I don't feel so good," she said, setting off at a run for the bathroom off our bedroom.

I hovered around the bedroom door, not wanting to crowd her, but wanting to make sure she was okay. I heard the sound of her throwing up, and I gave her a few minutes, pacing the floor until I heard the water in the sink running. "Baby, are you okay? Do I need to call a doctor and get you an appointment?"

The water shut off, and she turned to face me in front of the sink. I crossed the bedroom toward her, but she held up her hand.

"I really don't feel good," she said. "I think I'll be okay, but I need to lie down for a little bit."

I hurried to the bed and pulled the covers on her side down, tucking her in after she'd slipped between the sheets. "Are you sure you don't need me to take you to the doctor? Do you think you're sick because you did too much today?"

"Maybe that's it," she said, sounding weary. "Let me just take a nap, and I'm sure I'll feel better."

"Okay," I said, feeling helpless.

I bent down to kiss her forehead and saw tears at the corners of her eyes. "What's wrong?" I asked, confused.

"I think I'm just tired," she said, wiping the tears away and turning onto her side. "I'll feel better after I get some sleep."

I made sure she was covered up and I walked back into the dining room, disappointed and perplexed by the turn the evening had taken.