GIVE IN: God's Hellfire MC Page 13

  Not only would it put me in danger, it would start raising questions about the whole club if it got out. That would put Gov, Grin, Cutter, and all the rest in the firing line. And then, on top of that, no one would ever do business with us again.

  But, if I didn't do anything, the Govs would come for me, and my crew. The moment they started poking around because of this Petrov Arms deal, they'd figure out just what kind of ant hill they'd kicked over. And then all the guys would be spending time in the pen. But, at least they'd be alive. That was something.

  As things were laid out, there was just too much damned risk no matter which way I turned. On the one hand, I risked death. On the other, prosecution. There just wasn't a clear way forward.

  Gov arrived at the house soon after me and Kaci. He'd brought Sydney along, despite her wounded shoulder. The four of us settled in around the dining room table, Kaci at my side and Gov next to Sydney.

  Kaci grabbed us all some beers and we settled in for the big talk. I laid everything out for my buddy and our newest confidante. Both asked questions at various points, asking for elaboration on certain points here and there.

  Finally, my story was done, along with my first beer.

  The words that came out of Gov's mouth next made me want to grab another.

  “Micah,” he began, his eyes wide and fearful, “I got a confession to make, brother.”

  I groaned, not even wanting to consider what it was about. I hoped it was like weird porn fetishes or some shit. That I could deal with.

  “I didn't get the name Gov from being in the penitentiary like I tell everyone,” he said with a sigh. “Your grandfather put me here two years ago, when your daddy died and you took over. I'm actually an ex-agent, myself, one that was under deep cover.”

  “Fuck you,” I said, not believing him. “I mean, seriously, fuck you.”

  He sighed again and leaned back in his chair. “Quentin's a good man. He saved my sister's life one time, and he knew I owed him one. A real big one. So, he wanted me to watch your back. He knew you were going to take over for Jaws after he passed, and he hoped I could keep you straight and on the right side of things.”

  “Fuck you,” I repeated, shaking my head. “Just . . . fuck you, man.”

  “Look,” he said, leaning across the table, “I might've come in here as a favor to Quentin, but I stayed because I love the club, man. I used to do real deep undercover shit with some really nasty people. I did and saw things, Micah. But, you guys at F&B, you ain't like those pieces of shit. You're all decent guys, and I wouldn't ever rat any of you.”

  Yep, needed another beer. I sighed and looked away.

  Kaci just fucking laughed, earning a glare from me.

  Gov, though, kept pleading his case. “Man, I prospected the same as anyone else, same as you. I'm committed to the MC. I just happen to, you know, have a different past than I said.”

  I ground my teeth together. After all this shit was said and done, I was going to need to see a dentist.

  “This is just too goddamned rich,” Kaci said before sucking down the last of her beer. She got up to grab another one. Clearly, she was enjoying this.

  “When have I ever given you cause to doubt me, Don?” Gov asked.

  “Other than now?” I replied.

  “Yeah, I guess. Ain't I been there doing the same things as you? Look, I ain't on the job anymore. If the club goes down, I go down right beside you.”

  He did have a point on that. But, shit, that was a big set of lies he'd been feeding me. Just one more piece of bullshit after the other. I looked across the table at him, tried picturing him in a black suit and tie, but I couldn't do it. He just looked like Gov to me. Not, you know, a fed.

  “Fine,” I said. “Guess we all got a past.”

  Kaci, who was just on her way back into the room with two beers in hand, had a good laugh at that one.

  Goddamn she was a thorn in my side, even if she was the most beautiful rose I'd ever seen.

  Shit, I'd even started to think like a romantic asshole. Fuck.

  “So, what do you think, then?” I asked Gov. “Since, you know the inner workings of this shit and all.”

  “I think we go for it,” Gov replied, slapping the table for emphasis. “I trust Quentin. He ain't steered me wrong. And, besides, Petrov was a prime target, but only when we could get away with it. Looks like our luck's running thin on that front. Sooner or later, we're gonna catch a bullet, or even worse.”

  “Worse than a bullet?” Sydney asked, her high-pitched voice finally piping in. “I'd rather a bullet to the head than do time. Who's to say this Brumfield bitch ain't gonna turn on us the moment we give them this Efraim guy?”

  “I think,” Kaci added in her two cents from beside me, “we listen to Micah on this. He's the Don, right? And Sydney and I are in the club now, right? What he says goes, far as I'm concerned.”

  Gov nodded along, agreeing with her. “She's right, Micah. It's your choice.”

  I chewed the inside of my mouth and sucked down another gulp of my fresh beer. Decisions, decisions, fucking decisions.

  Finally, though, the obvious choice stood out to me, presenting itself and spinning around just so it could sit in my lap.

  “Alright, we talk to this agent,” I said, raising my hand to plead to Sydney for quiet. “Just talk for right now. Let's hear what she needs, and what she can give us in return. If it's just me, that's fine. But, I think this is a good opportunity, maybe the only one we'll ever have, to get on the right side of the law. Maybe we can even get out of this shit for good.”

  “For good?” Gov asked, his eyes brightening a little.

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding before I turned to Kaci.

  She looked back at me, those beautiful brown eyes of hers drilling deep into my soul. I could see a life with her, maybe, some place out and away from the city. Just us, on some land, not having to knock over semi-trucks or sell guns to anyone just to make our daily bread.

  “This could be the chance we need,” I said. “All of us.”

  Goddamn, I thought. I was becoming some romantic asshole.

  What the fuck happened to me?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kaci

  Micah and I were dressed to the nines for tonight. He'd taken me to an actual adult boutique this time, and slapped down a wad of cash to cover any expenses I'd had. Sydney and I had a field day, and I can honestly say I'd never had a pair of heels this sexy, or comfortable. To go with them, I'd picked up a pretty white dress and a new purse. Hell, Sydney had even helped me put my hair up for the night.

  Micah looked like he'd done a bit of shopping himself, or had at least dug to the back of his closet and found the sexiest suit I'd seen on a man in a while. It was tailored to him, slim but still showed off his impressive muscles in all the right places. He'd even shaved that perpetual five o'clock stubble from his face.

  It was hard to believe this time last night we'd been putting the final touches on a gun heist against a Russian crime lord.

  “Quit grinning so damned much at me,” he grunted as he swung open the door to the restaurant for me.

  “Why should I?” I asked, my tone playful and poking. “Don't you want Agent Brumfield to think we're in love?”

  He just grumbled. “No, I want us to be believable.”

  I slipped an arm through his and leaned against his side a little, letting him escort me along. “And nice couples like us don't look at each other that way?”

  “Nope,” he said. “We're supposed to be simmering in mutual despair, angry that our love life died off years ago.”

  I snickered. “Well we're not playing at being married, are we?”

  “Suppose not,” he mumbled back. “But let's at least stop making it look like you've never seen me in a suit before, okay?”

  I laughed. “Fine, fine,” I said, faking a little pout.

  We headed into the restaurant's lounge and Micah scanned the bar for the agent.

  A youn
g woman, maybe in her early thirties approached us. “Micah Marlow?” she asked, hand extended as she looked us both up and down.

  She was pretty, if a little severe, and had ashen blonde hair that was pulled back in a no-nonsense bun, the roots straining away from her face. Something about her just screamed tomboy, like she got up and ran ten miles every morning, and used the jog time to catch purse snatchers on her route. Her moves were all measured, tight, like she kept herself under constant surveillance, consistent care. She was tough, and she knew it, too.

  “Agent Brumfield?” Micah replied, trying to keep his voice neutral and guarded.

  “Avery, please. I have a table near the back,” she said, jerking a thumb back over her shoulder. “It's a little more private than the bar.” And, with that, she turned on the heel of her no-bullshit business flats, and led the way to her back table.

  I gave Micah the eye, and he gave it right back to me. This woman seemed like her lie detector was going to be pretty strong. She'd definitely been around the block a few times. Micah made an “after you” gesture and we followed after her, with me in the lead.

  The back booth she'd secured was quiet, and out of the way. Everyone here was murmuring quietly to each other anyways, not like in Club Hades where one full booth could make the whole place feel like a biker rally hard parked inside the bar.

  “Please sit,” she said with a sweep of her hand as she slid into the far side of the booth behind what looked like a gin and tonic.

  I slid onto the opposite bench first, with Micah squeezing in after me.

  “Your grandfather said you had some information for me,” Avery said, jumping right in with both feet.

  “Yes,” Micah said, folding his hands in front of him on the table. “He mentioned that you were going after one of my business associates, a man named Efraim Petrov, right?”

  “Correct,” Avery said with a nod. “We've been looking into him, but so far there hasn't been anything solid to go on. Do you think you have something that we could use to broaden our investigation?”

  “Not exactly,” Micah said, veering a little ways off from the truth. “You see, Mr. Petrov stiffed me on a business deal, but I've heard things about him from others in the industry. I think I can help you catch him in some compromising situations.”

  I was surprised that he was diverting from the plan already, and shot him a sideways glance.

  “What kind of business deals did he and you have a disagreement on?” Avery carefully asked. She was clearly weighing each word that came out of his mouth, and I had a feeling she wasn't going to like what he had to say. “Sorry, I have to ask. Your grandfather didn't mention that part of it in our phone conversation.”

  “Yes, well,” Micah said, foundering a little, “I can't really disclose that because of an agreement we signed. I'd be breaking the, uh, contractual obligation, you see, and open myself up to lawsuits.”

  “Oh,” Avery said, sitting back a little. “Okay. Well, what did you mean to do to help me, then, if you can't disclose these dealings?”

  Micah leaned forward a little, hunching his shoulders like he was conspiring with her. “I think,” he began, “I can get him into a hotel room and get him to admit to illegally selling firearms, like the rumor that's going around.”

  “You could, could you?”

  I kept my smile up, despite the fact that I didn't think Agent Brumfield was going to buy it.

  “Yes,” Micah said. “I'd need certain assurances, of course.”

  “What kind are we talking about?” she asked.

  “That you would leave me and my associates out of this. I don't want to be investigated before, during, or afterward. But, I promise you, I can get him to you on a silver platter.”

  Halfway through his last statement, Agent Brumfield rolled her eyes so hard, they looked like they were about unscrew from their sockets. “Mr. Marlow, let me know just stop you right there. I don't know what your grandfather told you, but that ain't gonna fly. We need to know the full extent of your business dealings, and we have to know if there's any outstanding liability on you before we just give you a free pass on this.”

  “But, I can get him for you,” Micah replied. “I'm telling you, we can send this guy up the river. Believe me, he's dirty as all Hell.”

  I fiddled with my hands in my lap, itching to say my peace. Micah was just screwing this all up with his needless dodging. For once, we needed to be frank with someone, needed to actually tell the damned truth.

  “Mr. Marlow . . . Micah.” The FBI agent leaned in closer, so close her lips were almost touching Micah's. “I fucking know he's dirty. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. But, if you can't tell us what business you had with him, even a clue to it, then we can't talk turkey here. Got it?”

  I leaned forward. “Micah,” I said, cutting him off as opened his mouth and went to speak, “cut the bullshit. Agent Brumfield, let me tell you the truth. The whole truth. My name's Kaci Sizemore, and I killed Abram Ivanovich in the hotel room.”

  # # #

  Micah

  I don't know what the fuck Kaci was thinking, or what she thought she'd accomplish by opening her big mouth, but there wasn't any stopping her now.

  “Look,” she said, one eye on me and the other on the FBI agent, “I'm gonna be blunt. I ran away from home when I was sixteen and eventually ended up as a prostitute with Abram. I ran because my pervy-ass stepdaddy went from just beating me and my brother to giving me creepy looks the day my momma died, and I needed to get away from him before something worse than just looks happened to me. Abram was my pimp for years and years, and kept me as a prostitute.”

  The shocked look on the Agent's face just grew and grew for the first leg of Kaci's explanation, and my own mortification intensified. I wasn't sure where Kaci was going with this, but I hoped it worked. Likely, though, it probably wouldn't. Of course, she wasn't the type of woman to take “no” for an answer. That much, at least, I'd learned over the last week.

  “That night last week, it was me in the hotel room with Abram. My brother is Romeo Sizemore, the boy that was found. He was my younger brother, and he somehow found me. Abram killed him, I shot Abram with his own gun. I'm willing to face the consequences for what I did, even though I don't feel a bit of guilt. So, if you gotta lock someone up, lock me up, alright? But, first, I want to help you make Efraim pay for everything he's done. That man is a goddamn snake in the grass and deserves whatever he gets, especially after what happened to my brother.”

  Agent Brumfield's face had softened during Kaci's rambling confession, enough so that I thought we even had a chance of convincing her to let us help. She took a deep drink from her cocktail and, crunching the ice, seemed to consider Kaci's words carefully.

  “Kaci, let me start by saying, I can't even begin to understand what you've gone through, or are going through. I've met a lot of people with really tough lives, and this one's right up there.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Kaci said from beside me. Her eyes were lit up a little from just getting to unburden herself to the agent, and I could tell she was hopeful for things to work out.

  “However,” the agent said, then paused and took another drink.

  I, on the other hand, was not nearly as optimistic.

  “However,” she began again, reaching across the table to put her hand over Kaci's, “I can't help you. I'm going to disregard what you just told me, as I'm not working the case. When you go through the proper channels with the local authorities, please don't mention me. At all. My relationship with your boyfriend's grandfather would make it look improper as Hell for me to be involved.”

  My heart sunk. Not only had Kaci just admitted to killing Abram, she'd also showed as completely unreliable. And, without any help from the FBI, we were pretty much fucked when it came to getting out of this.

  Agent Brumfield turned her attention back to me, a frown creasing her lips. “And you, Mr. Marlow. When you're ready to discuss what business you had
with Mr. Petrov, and how you can be of better assistance, please contact me. Other than that, I think we're done here.” As she closed her remarks, she began digging through the pockets of her slacks. She pulled out as wad of bills and tossed it on the table between us.

  “So, you're just going to leave?” Kaci asked, her face completely downcast.

  “Yes, Ms. Sizemore, I am.” And, with that, Agent Brumfield was up and out of the little back booth.

  “Fuck,” Kaci groaned.

  “Fuck is right,” I agreed as I turned to her.

  “So, what now?” she asked.

  “What now?” I asked, laughing a little. “Now we change our plans up. You, little girl, just completely fucked us over. Your save-the-day balls-to-the-wall attitude might have just cost you your goddamn freedom. We better get out of town before the local boys come sniffing around for you after that little stunt you just pulled. We're going on the run, sweetie.”