Nine, the Tale of Kevin Clearwater Read online

  Pike nods and scratches at his goatee. “Impressive, but like I said—”

  I cut him off and continue, “Whereas the silver ring on your pinky finger is an antique. A Classon ring made by George Classon in the early nineteen hundreds for the members of the first official MC in South Florida, The Venom MC. There’s only twelve in existence, and the ones that have sold at auction no longer have the three-carat black diamond, whereas your ring is obviously still intact.”

  Pike stares down at the ring and looks up at me with his jaw open as Nine watches on silently.

  “Its value is somewhere between sixty-thousand to a hundred thousand dollars, depending if you find the right buyer, preferably a collector who knows that the only other original Classon rings in existence are heirlooms that have been passed down to the original members’ families and are rarely available for purchase.”

  Pike looks up from his ring. “Okay, so what would you offer me if I were to bring this into the pawn shop?”

  “If you’d want to pawn the ring, I’d lend around twenty-five percent of the lowest value, so fifteen thousand. If you wanted to sell it to the shop, I’d be willing to go up to fifty percent of the lowest value, so thirty-thousand, but since the market for the item is specific, I’d start the offer at twenty-thousand. On trade…” I tilt my head and think, tapping my finger against my chin. “I wouldn’t trade. Not without knowing the current values of what you have in the shop to offer.”

  “Fuck me,” Pike says.

  “Holy shit. How do you know all that?” Nine asks.

  “There’s an advantage to growing up on the other side of the causeway. Rich people love their charity auctions, and they love talking about the value of all the stupid useless shit they buy even more. Conversation pieces are a must because a lot of them can’t come up with anything to talk about on their own.” I look to Pike. “Do you want me go into the difference between the values of classic pianos? Because there’s a big difference between a Steinway and a Fazioli when it comes to worth, depending, of course, on the year made, the condition, if it was used in concert or as part of—”

  “Come in on Monday. We’ll talk,” Pike says.

  I smile triumphantly. “Thank you. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  Nine smiles at me, and it’s not condescending. He looks…almost…proud. Which is ridiculous. He can’t be proud of me. He doesn’t even know me.

  I take a swig of my drink, partially to hide my smile, but it’s empty.

  “I’ll go get us another round,” Nine says. He points to Pike who holds up his empty beer.

  “Yeah, man. I’ll take another,” Pike says.

  Nine walks off toward the keg next to the cooler, and every woman with a pulse watches him like a pack of turkey vultures waiting to pounce.

  “How do you know, Nine?” I ask.

  “Been friends our whole lives. Did a stint in a couple foster homes together. Another few in juvie.” He gives me a long, hard look. “And uh, how do you know him?”

  “I don’t. He appeared literally out of nowhere, but looking at that—” I point to one woman (out of many) appraising him. “—makes me feel like I know his type.”

  We both watch as, one by one, women approach him with their shoulders back and assets out.

  “Oh, yeah?” Pike raises an eyebrow and shoots me a sideways smirk. “Shoot, then. What do you think Nine’s type is? I’m interested to hear your take.”

  “Well, just look at him.” I point to where he’s pouring a dark-haired girl a beer from the keg. The girl leans over the keg without even trying to pretend she’s not interested, putting her ample cleavage on display. I snort.

  “So, you’re saying his type is helpful?” Pike asks, not understanding what I’m getting at.

  “I’m saying look at the way women are throwing themselves at him. He’s…okay he’s like ridiculously good looking. It’s a fact like science and the periodic tables and all that. Tall. Tattoos. Muscles. Lips…” I trail off, remembering how those very lips brushed on mine.

  “You were saying,” Pike presses, looking amused as he talks into his empty cup.

  “You know what I mean. He can have his pick of any willing girl here, and from the looks of it, that’s the majority of them. My guess is that he’s the type of guy that has a different girl in his bed every night. I’m not slut-shaming, just observing.” I raise my free hand in surrender.

  “Listen, you seem cool, and you know the value of shit, but the way you’re looking at the value of people, this person in particular, is all wrong.”

  “You’re saying he doesn’t take a different girl home every night?”

  He looks over to Nine again. “I’m saying that the truth might surprise you.”

  “And what exactly is the truth?”

  “Go on, look for yourself. Really look. Not at the women gaping at him like they’re front row at a Magic Mike show. At him.”

  I look back over, and this time I try to ignore the girls twirling their hair in their fingers and giggling. The one girl has turned into a crowd of three. I look past their sex-crazed eyes, and I do what Pike says. I look at Nine. Just Nine. And he’s talking to them but not blatantly flirting. There’s no touching even when a girl smashes her breasts together in what looks like an attempt to point out some sort of tattoo on her chest. In fact, he takes a step back and grabs her cup, filling it from the keg while glancing back at me over his shoulder. He glares at Pike, and they exchange some nonverbal message that makes Pike chuckle. Nine finishes filling the girl’s beer before making his way back to us, leaving several enthralled and highly disappointed women in his wake.

  “What do you see now?” Pike asks, nudging my shoulder.

  “You’re right. He was being…helpful. Kind. He wasn’t…” I trail off because I’m looking at him in a new light, as if really seeing him for the first time.

  “Nine is a good man, by far the best man I know. I’d trust him with my life. I have trusted him with my life.”

  I remember the bar. The fight. The alley. “Answer something for me, Pike. Does a good man beat the shit out of other men?”

  Pike grins. “Fuck yeah, all the time. Especially when he’s got something worth fighting for.”

  * * *

  NINE

  Pike and Lenny are laughing together when I get back with our drinks, and I want nothing more than to drag her away right this very second, but I have to be careful and wait this out even though everything in me is screaming to act and act now.

  I’m so consumed by my thoughts that I almost miss the two men from Tico Ricci’s crew across the field. Different men from the alley, but all of Ricci’s men have the same look. They stand out among the partiers. First, there are no drinks in their hands. Second, while everyone else is either wearing shorts, barely anything, or leather cuts like the bikers, these guys are wearing tailored blazers over jeans, which they probably think is casual and makes them blend in, but it does anything but. If their slicked back hair wasn’t a neon sign saying they didn’t belong, then the stern looks on their faces amongst a sea of smiles sure as shit do.

  Pike steps away from Lenny casually to stand beside me. He lifts his beer to his mouth. “Do you see ‘em, too?”

  “Sure fuckin’ do.”

  “This can’t be fucking good.”

  “It’s not.” There’s only one reason Ricci’s crew is here tonight, and that reason has long brown hair and is wearing a skin-tight dress that hugs every single one of her sinful curves.

  “What do you need me to do, man?” Pike asks, and I know what he’s thinking’ because it’s the same thing I’m thinking. There’s too many people here. I may not always do the right thing or give a shit if I what I am doing is in the vicinity of right, but collateral damage ain’t my gig.

  “I’m gonna get Lenny the fuck outta here as fast and as unnoticeable as I can. I don’t need them shooting up an entire field full of innocent people.”

  “Always concerned about others,�
� Pike says although I sense a shit-ton of sarcasm in his raspy voice.

  I finish my beer and place my smoke inside, tossing it into the nearest trash can. “Maybe, I just don’t want any blood on my fucking plants,” I reply. “Do me a favor. Text Prep. Tell him I’ll be on the old road heading west and that I might need reinforcements. After we’re gone, try and distract them if you can. Give me some time.”

  “I’m on it.” Pike has his phone to his ear and is walking away from the crowd to do what I asked because he’s a good fucking friend and that’s what good fucking friends do. After he hangs up, he heads to the other side of the field where the two men are searching the crowd and loudly announces, “Who’s ready for the wet t-shirt contest!”

  The crowd gathers around him, creating a wall in front of the Ricci soldiers, blocking their view of this side of the field.

  I approach Lenny whose brows are furrowed with frustration. Not at me. At her friend.

  “But I don’t wanna go just yet,” Yuli whines to Lenny, obviously on the drunker side of tipsy.

  “Okay, fine. Then, I’ll stay and wait for you,” Lenny agrees, but her eyes say she’s anything but happy about staying’. Which is good. Cause we’re not.

  “Yay!” Yuli cheers, bouncing up and down on her knees.

  I go over to Ray and whisper to her what’s going on. She answers only with a single nod, her smile never leaving her face. She’s a pro, and not to mention King’s wife, which makes her used to shit like this.

  “Yuli!” Ray says, with exaggerated excitement. “Nine can drive Lenny home. He’s going that way anyway. And me and you gonna have some drinks! I have a babysitter, and this mama isn’t going home anytime soon!”

  “Yuli, it’s okay. I’m going to stay,” Lenny says without looking at me.

  “Lenny, don’t worry. Nine will be a perfect gentleman. I swear it.” Ray is a fucking expert at this shit and totally missed her calling at being a spy or some shit like that because she links arms with Yuli. “Don’t worry, Yuli, I’ll make sure the bikers don’t get too handsy with you,” she teases.

  “Oh, hell no!” Yuli says, drawing out each letter of each word. “Don’t you dare keep those sexy bikers at arm’s length. Girl, I’ve been looking forward to handsy from those men my entire god damned young and beautiful life.” She raises her beer toward a group of bikers “Come to mama, my beautiful biker barbarians!” Yuli turns around and gives Lenny a quick tight hug. “You know I hate good-byes, but I promise I’ll text you from the plane tomorrow. I love you, my friend.”

  She releases Lenny and follows Ray toward the bikers.

  Lenny watches her friend leave, a sad look plays her eyes while she chews on her bottom lip.

  I tug on her arm. “Let’s go,” I say, pulling her away from the crowd.

  She stops and looks down to where I’m touching her and tugs her arm away. “You don’t have to drive me. I’ll just call an Uber.” She takes out her phone, but I rip it out of her hands.

  “We don’t have time for this shit,” I growl.

  “We don’t have time for what shit? If you think I’m going to—”

  I push her into the shadows until her back is flush with the wall of my RV. I cover her mouth with my hand. Her eyes go wide with terror.

  Lenny struggles to free herself, but I only hold tighter. Hopefully, anyone who spots us would think we’re just going at it.

  “Stop and fucking listen before you get a shit-ton of my friends killed,” I grate out. I turn my head and spot to two soldiers searching the back of the crowd. “Look over my shoulder, but don’t be obvious. Do you see the two men who aren’t drinking and don’t look like they belong here? They’re at nine o’clock. Don’t answer. Just nod.”

  After a second, she nods and swallows hard.

  “They are soldiers of Tico Ricci. Do you know who that is?”

  She nods again.

  “Your ex fucked them over. They can’t find him, so now, they’re searching for you. And here’s the thing, if I don’t get you out of here right fucking now, they’ll take you somewhere where they’ll probably kill you regardless if you tell them what they want to hear or not. Or if they spot you and you try to run, they won’t hesitate to shoot through everyone standing between you and them. You don’t have options right now. You are coming with me so we can lead them away from all of these people. Do you understand?”

  She nods once more. Her smooth lips rub over my palm, and the feeling makes me want to lean in and breathe in more of her sweet scent, but now is not the motherfucking time.

  I release her and step back, tugging her toward my truck. I open the passenger door and lift her inside. Jogging around to the other side, I hop in and pull us onto the darkened dirt path between the trees.

  “What do they want with Jared?” she asks as I turn onto the main, paved road. “I can’t reach him either! I can just tell them that.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but while your solution to try and reason with Ricci’s men is adorable, it’ll get you killed.” I blow out a sigh. “You really are from the other side of the causeway,” I mutter.

  Might as well be another world.

  Lenny shoots daggers at me with those big blue eyes of hers. She opens her mouth to reply but stops when the rearview mirror brightens, reflecting the headlights of the army-style Hummer tailing us. It’s speeding and catching up to us. Fast.

  I slam on the gas and yank on the wheel, turning us onto an almost hidden path in the center of the neighboring cornfield the tractors use to tend the fields, but it’s not fast enough. Because as I complete the turn, we’re hit with what sounds like a swarm of angry metal bees.

  In reality, it’s a spray of bullets.

  Chapter Thirteen

  NINE

  “Tell me what the fuck is going on!” Lenny screams as we tear down the road as fast as my truck will take us.

  “Please,” she begs, lowering her voice to a whisper.

  I make a sharp turn onto a dirt path that leads to a clearing in the middle of a circle of thick trees that block out any light. I throw the car in park when I’m sure that we’re covered and out of sight.

  Lenny opens her mouth to speak again, but I press my fingers to her lips to silence her, waiting until I’m sure we’ve lost Ricci’s men before I remove them. “First, tell me what you know about Jared. About his business,” I demand.

  Lenny fidgets, pulling on the hemline of her dress then balling her fists and releasing them over and over again. I notice the scars in the center of her palms. The movement must be a habit of hers.

  “He owns an investment company that mostly deals in real estate development and foreign investors looking to grow their money in the states.” she replies, as if she’s heard him say those exact words a thousand times.

  “That’s it?” I press.

  Lenny throws her hands in the air, then drops them with a smack to her thighs where I notice her dress has risen up, exposing her black panties. “Yes, that’s it! You obviously know more than I do, so why don’t you tell me!”

  I look away and get back to the subject at hand. “Jared was…is a fuckin’ weasel. He was running a Ponzi scheme. The Lawless MC and my brother, Preppy, along with King,” I look to her. “You’re from here, so I assume you know who they are?”

  She nods.

  “They had some excess cash that was already clean. It was my idea to invest and grow another line of legit income. I picked Jared to help us do that. At first, everything seemed good, but the statements we were getting weren’t real. The numbers on the return were way too high for the current state of the market. I checked the accounts, and I was right. The money was gone, and when I went to find Jared...”

  I killed him.

  “He was already gone,” she finishes.

  Yeah, he’s gone alright.

  “What about those guys at the party?” she asks. “What do they have to do with your friends’ money?”

  “The reason why I invested w
ith Jared in the first place is because he was already working with Tico Ricci, and I figured it was a safe bet because fucking over Tico means certain death, and not a painless one either. I assumed Jared knew how the game worked when getting into bed with people like us. He either knew or didn’t give a shit because not only did he fuck us over, but Ricci as well. He drained every fucking penny.”

  She looks to her lap, and I can see her struggling with the information. “They can’t find Jared or the money, so now they’re looking for me.” Confusion lines her smooth forehead. “Why? It doesn’t make any sense. Why me?”

  “They probably think you know where the money is or where Jared is.” I can’t bring myself to tell her that Jared is the one who pointed the finger at her. Knowing that he didn’t care if they killed her so he could save his own ass isn’t going to change anything besides make her hysterical, and that’s the last fucking thing I need right now.

  “But, I wasn’t involved. I don’t know a damn thing. He was never even home. He went out of town all of the time. He stole from me, too. Left me with nothing.” She presses her head back into the headrest and closes her eyes. “I’m so stupid. How…why did I ever trust him? I should’ve known. Should’ve seen something to tell me he wasn’t who he led me to believe he was.” She lowers her voice and stares blankly out the windshield. “All those years…”

  “Does it bother you that he was a liar and a thief?” I ask.

  She thinks for a minute. “No, it bothers me that I never knew him at all. It bothers me that I’ve got mafia men after me because of him and…” She looks at me. “Shit.”

  “What?” I ask, lighting a cigarette.

  “I’m more stupid than I thought. Here I am wondering why a stranger would suddenly rescue me from dangerous men. Twice. Now, I know why you knew my name. You’re not trying to save me.” Her eyes go wide. “You just wanted to get to me first.”