Acer slapped Jacko on the back and inclined his head in the direction of the clubhouse. “Take fifteen. I need to ask our guest a few questions.”
Jacko nodded and rose from his post. The metal folding chair he sat on, guarding Emily, wouldn’t even be comfortable if it came with a free blow job, but such was the life of a prospect.
“Hard to believe, ain’t it?” Jacko asked with a shake of his head.
It was. But Acer had learned the hard way that even those you trusted above all others could shove a knife between your shoulder blades without blinking an eye. “Here’s your free lesson of the day, prospect. Never take anyone at face value. That way, when they stab you in the back, you won’t give a shit.”
Jacko raised an eyebrow. “That what you do, man?”
“It is now. Stop asking me stupid questions and take the fuckin’ break.”
Jacko grunted and jogged out of the garage.
Acer fisted the doorknob. He was a cautious bastard, and never let anyone slip past his defenses anymore. But he liked Emily. Not the way Jester did, thank God. The ass beating that would accompany any interest shown in her direction was not worth it. But he felt brotherly toward her. She reminded him of someone from his past, someone sweet and kind, someone who life handed a raw deal when she didn’t deserve it. Was it the same for Emily?
He tugged the door open and peered inside the closet-sized room. Emily sat on the cot, her back against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest. Her normally gorgeous baby blue eyes were bloodshot and bore the dark rings of the sleep deprived. The combination gave her an appearance of exhausted devastation.
The sound of the metal chair dragging across the concrete floor rivaled nails on a chalkboard, as Acer pulled it into the room. The screeching seemed to pull Emily out of whatever daze she’d been in and she scurried back on the cot until she hit the wall, reminding him of a frightened wild animal cornered by a predator.
He turned the chair around and straddled it, sitting with slow, controlled movements so as not to spook her. “Emily, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Wide, terrified eyes full of suffering and regret stared back at him.
“Wh-what do you want then?”
“The truth. The story, whatever the fuck happened that led you to spy on us for Snake.” Shiv trusted his judgment when it came to reading people’s bullshit, which was why he’d ordered Acer to feel her out.
She looked down at the cot and rubbed a nonexistent spot. Just when he was going to ask her with a bit more force, she spoke.
“My parents died when I was eighteen.” Her voice hitched but she took a breath and continued, not making eye contact with him. “My brother, Johnny, was thirteen at the time.” Tears trickled down her cheeks as words poured from her mouth, so fast he almost had trouble keeping up with her.
“Please,” she whimpered after telling him about her brother’s drug problem and entanglement with the Grimm Brothers. “You have to believe me. I could never do anything to put Jester in harm’s way. I lo—”
Acer pursed his lips and waited for her to continue, but she seemed to catch herself and, with a shake of her head, she changed statements.
“Snake will kill my brother. He’s all I have left. We’ll leave town, immediately.” She’d moved to her knees on the cot and folded her hands together in front of her chest. Now she looked him straight in the eye. “Please,” she choked out again. “I’m begging you, Acer. I don’t expect Jester—or any of you—to forgive me for my part in this, but please help save my brother.”
Acer straightened in the chair and replayed her story in his head. Maybe she told the truth. His gut was about eighty percent sure it believed her, but it had failed him before.
“Acer,” she pleaded. “You have to help me.” Her tears had slowed, but she remained in a kneeling positing on the cot. Nothing about her in this moment indicated deception.
He sighed. “Here’s the thing, hon. I have one loyalty here. To my club. And right now my club thinks you sold them out. Even if they believe this story, even if it’s completely true, your brother is the reason for this whole clusterfuck. The club won’t—and I can’t ask them to—put lives at risk to save him.”
Her face crumbled before his eyes, and sobs were torn from her throat. He didn’t move to comfort her. That wasn’t what he was there for, even if a large part of him wanted to. But he waited until she settled before rising from the chair.
“For what it’s worth, Emily, I think I believe you and I will pass on everything you shared with me.”
She turned her face up and the intense sadness he saw nearly made him promise to save Johnny. It wasn’t his decision, and if the club didn’t want to take the risk, he’d support that.
“What—” She cleared her throat. “What about Jester? Will you tell him?”
Acer cracked out a sharp laugh. “Jester’s passed out, spooned around an empty bottle of Jack.”
“What?” Emily gasped and stood. “But he needs to be able to function tomorrow.”
She looked sincere. It wasn’t easy to fake the panic that crossed her face. No matter the reason she entered Jester’s life, Acer believed she loved his brother.
“His hatred for Snake trumps a hangover anyway. He’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about Jester.”
Emily nodded and sat back down. Defeated was the only word he could think of to describe her.
He lifted the chair to avoid a repeat of the bone jarring screech and opened the door. He hadn’t taken two steps out of the garage when he encountered Striker standing in the parking lot, the glow of a cigarette in one hand and a half-full bottle in the other.
“Your woman know what you’re out here doing?”
“Nope. And there’s only one possible way she could find out, so I’m coming after your ass if she gives me grief.”
Acer chuckled. Lila rode them all constantly over their smoking. She might as well try to convince them to sell their bikes while she was at it. The chance of either happening were about the same. Slim and none.
“Talk to me.” Striker commanded as he handed off the whisky.
Acer took a drink and told Emily’s story, including how he was pretty sure she was in love with Jester.
“Shit.” Striker snatched the bottle back and took a long drink. “You believe her?”
Acer nodded. “I think I do.”
“Christ, if this is true, that girl’s been through hell the last few weeks.”
Acer held his hand out for the bottle. The burn of whisky was a welcome distraction from the mess of the day. “Not to mention that she could have sold us out at any time, but she put her ass on the line to protect us. She got on her fucking knees, cried her face off, and begged me to save her brother.”
Striker tossed his cigarette down and ground it under the heel of his boot. “Reducing her to begging like that?” He shook his head. “This shit turns out to be true, Jester will kill Snake for that alone.”
“You gonna tell him?”
Striker snorted. “Man’s dead to the world right now. He’s not ready to hear it yet. One more mind fuck and he might not be useful tomorrow. It’ll keep until after we hijack the money.”
“What about the brother?”
“Shit, I don’t know. Goddamn junkies.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face.
Being VP of the MC was a position filled with burdens and tough decisions. Acer didn’t envy Striker one bit.
“I guess we can snatch him when we take the money. What’s one more body in the van?”
Acer stared at his VP in shock. “You do realize all this shit is his doing, right?”
“Yeah, brother, I do. But that’s Jester’s woman in there, and if he has any chance of fixing this fucked up mess, saving her brother would go a long way toward getting it done.”
“Well, look at you, shooting heart shaped arrows. You sprout wings and I’m outta here.”
Striker took one last hit of the whisky and held it out to Acer. “Fuck you.”
Acer laughed and palmed the bottle.
“I’m heading in. I’ve wasted enough time with you when my woman is in there, warm and willing. Sorry you gotta make do with your hand tonight, brother.” Striker laughed as he walked toward the club house, his form disappearing into the dark of night.
“Good luck getting any from your woman smelling like a tobacco factory.”
“Shit,” Striker muttered and Acer laughed.
With one last glance at the door that kept Emily at bay, he turned and sauntered toward the clubhouse. He hoped his gut was right about Emily. Last time it failed him, life-altering horrors followed shortly after.