Hellion (Southern Rebels MC)

Dwayne faltered. “The Car?” He repeated, a tiny bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Uh huh.”

“That…no.”

“Then no deal,” Cadence said with a shrug, turning away from him and I relaxed, knowing if those were her terms there was no way in hell –

“Wait.”

Cadence paused, her expression calculating.

“We can work something out. You can drive it once a week,” he offered and she shook her head, her expression unimpressed. “As often as you want,” he said desperately. She shook her head again. “Part ownership,” he ventured, hardening his expression. “Final offer.”

“The Car,” Cadence enunciated. “Final offer.”

I glanced at Leroy, wondering what the hell was going on here. There was no way Dwayne would give her the car, the car’s value alone made it unreasonable.

The silence dragged on, Cadence never blinking, and Dwayne exhaled. “The Car.”

“Then we have a deal.” Cadence held her hand out and Dwayne shook it. “I hope whatever it is, it’s worth it.”

Dwayne pressed his lips together, glancing at me. “I’ll text you the details when it’s closer. I wouldn’t want the police to shut us down.”

I grimaced as he walked out.

“You’re not driving that race.” I turned to see Leroy nose to nose with Cadence. “I forbid it.”

“You can’t forbid me,” she told him. “Aren’t you the least bit curious why he’d want me to drive an insanely valuable car in a street race? Plus give me the car when I win?”

“Maybe he doesn’t expect you to win,” Leroy argued and Cadence shook her head.

“No. Losing would mean destroying the car.” She pursed her lips. “Either way, he loses the car. So what the hell is riding on this race that he needs to win so badly?”

“Nothing good,” I asserted. “So why are you helping him?”

“Because information is more valuable than any favor,” she pointed out. “You can use it against him.”

“I don’t want you risking your life to give me leverage,” I retorted. “He’s a small time chop shop.”

Cadence shook her head. “There was nothing small about that shop,” she countered. “He’s got a huge operation going on out there. I wouldn’t be surprised if he raked in millions a year.”

“And how would you know that?” Leroy squinted at her suspiciously. “Are you a criminal?”

“No.” Her expression darkened. “But I’ve worked for one.” She looked at me. “Whatever he’s hiding, I guarantee you want to know about it.”

***

The phone rang and I scrubbed my face, my voice rough as I answered. “Hello.”

They didn’t bother with a greeting. “We got a dead body. In a dumpster behind Ronnie’s salon. Officer on the scene thinks it’s Rob.”

“On my way. Thanks, Janet.”

“Oh and Chief,” she continued before I could comment on what she called me. “The only thing on him was a playing card. Specifically, an ace.”

She hung up and I laid back down with a groan, a spring poking me in the ass on the lumpy old couch. Leroy hadn’t been kidding. He’d parked me on the oldest couch in the history of mankind and warned me if he heard a creak on the stairs he’d shoot first. When I asked him if he was gonna ask questions later, he’d stared at me like I was stupid and informed me there wouldn’t be any questions.

“Everything alright?” Her quiet question caught me by surprise as I sat back up. Her shadow parted from the wall and I had to choke back a laugh when I saw what she was wearing. She rolled her eyes, pushing up the sleeves of a flannel monstrosity that appeared to swallow her whole. “Leroy.”

“I figured,” I replied, leaning forward as she came to sit next to me. “How did you make it down the stairs? I never heard you.”

She shot me a mischievous glance. “I slid down the banister.”

Laughter shook me as I wrapped my arm around her. “You couldn’t come down sooner and keep me company?”

“Are you kidding?” She bounced experimentally on the couch. “On this lumpy thing? No thank you.” She snuggled into me, burying her face against my chest.

“You trying to get me in trouble with Leroy?” She rubbed her face against me.

“No,” she mumbled. “Leroy will make sure you make an honest woman of me.”

“Or a widow,” I grumbled and her mouth curved. “Are you really going to race tonight?”

She lifted her head up, her chin propped on my chest. “Are you worried?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to lose.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I looked down at her, noticing the flecks of brown in her hazel eyes. “Dwayne isn’t a nice person.”

“I never thought he was. Nice guys don’t control empires,” she pointed out.

“Exactly, and he’s in trouble.”

“We don’t know that.”

“I don’t want you caught in his shit if something goes wrong.” I wrapped a strand of her hair around my finger. “You feel like forever and I plan on cashing in every minute.”