Torn (12 page)

ELI

“A
re you still there, man?” Mike asked, the phone resting in the crook of my neck. I’d been lost in thought, regretting not rushing over to Caluzo’s the night before when he’d called to tell me Kalista was there with Jasmine. I had no idea what my hesitation was, but sooner or later I had to make my move.

I needed answers. I craved them in order to obtain closure for my past.

“Hello?” he called out, huffing into the phone the longer the silence stretched between us.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here.”

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” he teased, but he should have known better. She was still such a sore subject, any indication it was a laughing matter quickly corrected by the tone of my aggravated voice.

“Fuck you.” It was the only thing I could think of to say. “Why are you calling me, anyway?” I hadn’t meant to take out my frustration on him, but he annoyed me with his flippant reaction to the whole debacle I was faced with.

To see her or not to see her.

That was the fucking question.

“Well, Mr. Happy Pants, I’m calling for a favor. I have a friend who is in need of some legal advice. I believe he’s starting up a new business and needs some tax guidance.”

“I’m not a tax attorney, Mike. That’s not my specialty.” Rummaging around on my desk, I found what I was looking for. The final page to the contract I’d recently drafted was hidden under a pile of papers.

“You know a little something about tax law, though, don’t you?”

“Yeah, some.”

“Well then, that’ll work. I told him to come by tomorrow around five. Hope that’s okay.”

Quickly looking over my calendar, I confirmed the time slot was open. “Fine. But you owe me.”

“You know I’m good for it.”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled before disconnecting the call.

****

The following evening, I was lost in heaps of paperwork and spreadsheets when the buzzer from my secretary interrupted the flow I’d been able to achieve after a few long hours of working on the same damn project.

“Mr. Warner, your five o’clock is here.” What I loved about Barbara was she was always blunt and to the point. All business. All the time.

“Show him in, please.”

No response needed on her part.

Moments later, the handle of my office door turned and in walked Barbara, dressed impeccably, as usual. She wore a plain black dress, complemented by a black and grey sheer scarf tied loosely around her neck. Nothing overly fancy, but she looked very well put together. Her shoulder-length black hair was twisted into a bun, showcasing her soft features.

If I had to guess I would put her in her late fifties, although she could be older. I was so bad with guessing women’s ages, I never tried to do so, knowing I would most likely be wrong. And because of my inability to gauge how old they were, I never took the bait. The topic of age was very sensitive for most; I knew that much about women, at least. The rest of it? Well, that was certainly up for debate.

I stood and walked around the edge of my desk, fast approaching both Barbara and the mystery man Mike had insisted I meet with. He was standing behind Barbara and towered over her, but I only caught a glimpse of his face, the rest of him shielded behind my secretary.

I looked into her eyes before she stepped aside, and what I saw almost made me falter.

Surprise and a touch of fear danced through her grey-blue eyes, looks I didn’t completely understand until she nodded, turned and walked out. My eyes followed her the entire way until she disappeared from sight, only then realizing my manners had escaped me.

Turning my attention back toward the other man standing in my office, I was instantly hit with the cause of concern etched on Barbara’s face. I extended my hand, the whole time my brain processing who the hell was taking up my space.

“Hi,” I said in greeting. “I’m Eli Warner. And you are…”

My five o’clock appointment stepped forward, his eyes roving over my entire form, from top to bottom. He was assessing me. The muscles of his strong jaw jumped as he stood taller, the intensity in his eyes challenging me as he extended his palm.

I’m going to kill Mike for putting me in this situation.

“I’m Marek. Mike said you were a busy guy, so thanks for seeing me on such short notice.” I had a feeling this guy had a hard time being polite. He stepped back, glancing around my office quickly before walking toward the couch against the nearest wall. Normally, new clients sat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, but this guy made himself right at home.

“Do you have anything to drink?” he asked, jerking his chin toward the small liquor cabinet in the corner of the room.

It took me a second to regain my composure. “Sure. What’s your poison?”

“Whatever you have is fine.”

My back was turned, but as he situated himself, I heard the leather of his cut twist and blend with the leather of the couch, the ominous sound not lost on me at all.

The man, who my dearest friend Mike convinced me to see, was none other than the President of the Knight’s Corruption motorcycle club, their main headquarters in Merced, California, the patch on the front of his cut proving as much. His club was infamous, the crimes unspeakable to most, although tales spread far and wide to everyone in the surrounding areas.

“So,” I started, handing him his drink before walking back toward my chair, a slight nod from him showing his appreciation. “What is it I can do for you?” My breathing slowed the same time my heart picked up the hammering inside my chest. Waiting for him to speak, all sorts of thoughts ran through my head.

What if he came here to threaten me to get into bed with the club?

What if he threatens me or my family if I refuse?

Instead of answering my question, he asked, “You know who I am, don’t you?” Crossing his ankle over his opposite leg, he leaned forward and locked eyes on me, a slight smirk appearing as he bathed in my uneasiness.

To look at him, minus the menacing leather cut, he looked like every other guy I’d grown up with. Short, dark hair adorned the top of his head, his beard well-groomed and masking the intensity of his features. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, so I wasn’t sure whether or not he was covered in tattoos. But weren’t all bikers? His eyes were intense, following every movement I made as if he was watching his prey, daring me with a simple glance to step out of line.

Contemplating how to answer his question caused me to remain silent. If I said yes, that I knew exactly who he was, would that put me in more danger, as if I was confessing I knew exactly what type of criminal he was? And if I answered no, would I be inadvertently offending him, telling him his reputation, as well as that of his club, was in fact nothing to pay attention to?

“It’s not a hard question, Eli,” he said, laughing at my uncertainty.

So, what answer do I give him? “Kind of.”

I fidgeted with the cord of my phone, the only sign I was indeed uncomfortable. Before he walked into my office, there wasn’t a single person on the face of this e
arth I was afraid of. B
ut I wasn’t dumb enough to think the man sitting in front of me couldn’t bring a world of hurt on me and everyone I loved if he felt I was a threat. From what I understood, the reach he had spread wide across the entire world, chapters formed in all different countries across the globe.

Again, I’m going to kill Mike.

He must have realized his effect on me, because before I knew it, he stood and walked toward my desk. Plopping down in front of me, he smiled as he leaned back, his arms draping over the sides of the chair. “I can see I make you nervous,” he confessed. “Don’t be. You’re doing me a huge favor here, and the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” His face softened, the words he’d spoken barreling through my ears, my brain taking a minute to scramble them as the truth. “You said you kind of know who I am. I call bullshit.” He smirked once again, calling me out on my half-lie. “I think you know exactly who I am and what I’m a part of. And that’s okay. It makes me happy people such as yourself have heard of me and my boys.” Although his words could be construed as challenging, he was presenting himself as anything but.

I realized right then there was more to him than met the eye. Relaxing a little, I leaned back further into my chair and breathed a slow sigh of relief. It was subtle, but he noticed.

“Good,” he said, nodding as if an unspoken conflict had just been resolved.

Tapping my fingers on the surface of my desk, I asked a simple question, one which had been plaguing me since he’d walked in. “So, how do you know Mike Hawkings?”

There was no hesitation on his part as he delved right into how he’d met my dear friend. Dear friend…maybe not after today.

“I’ve been fixing up a ’71 Super Glide FX for the past few months, a surprise for one of the guys at the club, and I was out taking it for a ride.” He stopped speaking abruptly and knit his brows. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?” he asked, an amused look on his face.

“Sorry, I don’t. I assume you’re talking about a bike, but that’s about it.”

“Yeah…it’s a Harley,” he confirmed. “While I was testing the bike, I came across Mike’s garage. Since my newest project was bucking and giving me some issues, I stopped in and asked if I could use his garage quick. I was too far from the club and didn’t want to test it in case I broke down on the side of the road. Turns out, one of the plugs was a wrong fit and thankfully, he had what I needed.” Mike was an avid rider, so it didn’t shock me he had what Marek needed stored in his shop. Sensing I was judging him on his motorcycle fixer-upper skills, he blurted, “I’m still in the process of learning how to fix up older bikes. We have our seasoned mechanics, but I wanted to handle this one myself. My next venture is building one from scratch.” He grinned, happy to boast his future plans.

“Anyway, Mike and I got to talking about all sorts of things, my new business ventures being one of the topics of discussions. It was then he told me he had a friend who was a lawyer.” He leaned closer. “And it just so happens I’m in need of some legal advice.”

“I’m sure you know plenty of lawyers,” I blurted before I could stop myself. My brazenness must have been humorous because he laughed.

“True. But no one I trust to give it to me straight. I’m trying my best to do things the right way. Well…at least when it comes to some things,” he confessed. Winking, he downed the last of his drink and placed the glass on my desk, pushing it forward to indicate he wanted another.

Settling into our conversation, I learned he was trying to set up a few new business. Bars and strip clubs, pretty much what I’d expected from someone like him. “All the brothers are looking forward to free booze and pussy, leaving it up to me to take care of everything behind the scenes,” he said, a fond smile on his face at the mere mention of his club.
      

I gave him a list of things he was going to need to do, from obtaining a liquor license for each bar, to setting up an LLC to protect personal assets, to learning about employee laws. Although I didn’t think they would ever have an issue with employees, keeping things in-house probably one of their founding rules.

An hour passed and our meeting came to an end. I had to admit, while I was still very cautious in what I chose to say to him, knowing damn well he could make my life miserable, or even cease to exist, my impression of him had changed a little as the moments passed.

Don’t get me wrong; one look at him and the way he carried himself, there was no doubt he’d kill you as soon as welcome you with a hug. But there was something shrouded underneath it all which told me he was trying to do better. Not only for himself but for the very dangerous club he was the leader of.

Handing him a piece of paper with some of the places he would need to visit, I walked him out, stopping by Barbara’s desk to make sure she was all right. She hadn’t heard from me for the past hour, and although that wasn’t odd while I was engrossed in a meeting, I’d never met with the president of a notorious MC before.
      

ELI

A
fter a very long day at the office, my meeting with the president of the Knights fucking Corruption MC still rattling around in my brain, I drove down a street I hadn’t visited in years. Thankfully, Kalista’s mother never moved because she was the only link I had to the woman who broke my heart, even though I hadn’t spoken to her in many years.

The sky was starting to turn black, the sun dipping behind the horizon when I saw a car pull into the driveway. I’d been sitting down the street, hidden by the many trees aligning the pavement, contemplating what I was going to say if and when I saw her again. So the sudden appearance of the vehicle made me instantly tense up. For all I knew, I was overreacting; it could simply be her mother. Once the car had come to a stop, there were a few seconds before the driver’s side door opened.

The first thing I saw was a high-heeled boot pulled over dark jeans, the majority of the woman’s body still inside the car, probably leaning over the seat to grab something. Soon, the woman fully emerged and I got a good look at who it was.