Betting on Stocks (Dead Presidents MC Book 7) Page 16

  Ms. Helen glanced back at the house again and when she turned toward us, tears filled her eyes. “I started this house because somebody helped me when I was just a stupid, young girl with no life skills and no place to go, and I wanted to help others like me. This used to be a safe place, but now… I’m too old for this. I don’t want it anymore, and I don’t know how to get out of it. If I sell it, good women like Lily there won’t have anywhere to go, but if I stay…” She looked down at her bruised arm. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Having never met Mindy or Rita, the pain they’d caused this sweet old lady had me ready to plant my foot in their asses.

  The hard line of Sasha’s mouth made it clear she felt the same way. “Nobody should have to feel like a prisoner in their own home. Especially not when they’re trying to help others. Please, let us help you,” she said.

  “These are my friends,” Lily added. “They’re good people who’ve never done anything but help me. I’d trust these women with my life, Ms. Helen. They don’t make promises they can’t keep. If Emily says she can help you, she will.”

  Finally, Ms. Helen stepped aside, letting us file in. The guys moved to follow us in, but Emily held up a hand to stop them. Stocks didn’t look happy about the order, but he stayed by his bike.

  “I’ll show them where Mindy and Rita’s room is,” Lily said, taking the lead.

  Ms. Helen nodded and stayed by the door wringing her hands.

  We walked through a hallway and up a flight of stairs, stepping over clothing and passing by a fist-sized hole in the wall.

  “Wow. This place has gone down hill,” Emily said. “Last time I was here it was so nice and cozy.”

  “It’s Mindy and Rita,” Lily replied with a shake of her head. “They don’t respect anything or anyone. I didn’t realize they were hurting Ms. Helen, or I would have asked for help sooner. I just thought she didn’t believe me and was letting them do whatever they wanted. I should have paid closer attention.”

  Emily pulled out her phone and started typing as we walked.

  Sasha draped an arm across Lily’s shoulders. “This is not your fault. Nobody expects people to pick on the elderly. It takes a special kind of asshole to do something like that. Don’t worry, this nightmare ends today.”

  The house was even bigger than it looked from the outside. I wondered how one old lady took care of it all. No wonder Ms. Helen looked so exhausted. The idea of her being disrespected and attacked after everything she’d done for homeless women made my blood boil.

  As we approached the far end of the hall, Lily hung back and pointed at a door, mouthing the words, “In there.”

  Naomi knocked while Sasha took up position beside her.

  “Go away, you old bat, or we’ll give you some more,” someone said from inside the room.

  Clearly we were in the right place. Sasha was right, it did take a special kind of asshole to pick on an old person, and it was time karma came a calling on these little shits.

  Instead of knocking a second time, Naomi turned the doorknob and shoved open the door.

  “What the fuck?” someone shouted. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you better get your ass out of our room.”

  “Mindy and Rita, I assume?” Naomi asked.

  “Who wants to know?”

  Naomi snarled. “The eviction team. Now, get your shit and get out before we toss you out.”

  “Oh, you think so, huh? Evict this, bitch.”

  Sasha drew her gun as she moved in beside Naomi. “Put the knife down,” she said, her voice heavy with authority. “And the pipe.”

  Leaving Emily and Lily in the hall, I eased into the room behind the others and took in the scene. The space was surprisingly clean with a set of bunk beds and about a half dozen backpacks and bags lining the wall by the closet doors. Two girls were sitting on the floor in front of the beds. One was rolling a glass pipe over a lighter with an open backpack in front of her, and the other was pointing a switchblade at Sasha.

  “No,” the switchblade wielder said. “This is our room. Actually, this is our whole fucking house, and you’re not welcome. Get out.” Neither of them seemed fazed by the pistol in Sasha’s hand, or her authoritative cop voice.

  “All right. Looks like we’re doing things the hard way,” Naomi said with a grin. “Good.”

  “Whatever,” the redhead replied. The pipe in her hands started to smoke and she put it to her lips and breathed in deeply. Once she’d taken all she could, she breathed out slowly and extinguished the flame.

  “Meth heads,” Sasha said with a groan as she holstered her gun. “Why is it always meth heads? Come on, you two, let’s go.”

  They just stared at us. The one with the pipe coughed out a puff before starting up her lighter again. “Yeah, we’re not goin’ anywhere.”

  “We’ve already called the cops,” Emily said, joining us. “They’ll be here any minute.”

  “Sure you did,” the knife wielder replied, standing. “Helen called you in, and that old cunt won’t throw us out. And, if she knows what’s good for her, she won’t press no charges either. I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you’re not gonna shoot us. That bitch already put her gun away.” She gestured at Sasha. “Probably isn’t even a real piece. Get out of here before I cut you up and make the old lady cook you for the rest of the girls.”

  I had no idea what was going on, but I’d heard about enough of this shit. These were two ungrateful little bitches who needed a good ass-whipping, and I knew exactly how to do that. Channeling my take-no-shit mother, I slid past Naomi and Sasha to face the entitled little freeloaders. “All right, listen. This is what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna apologize to these women for disrespecting them, and then you’re gonna go down and apologize to that sweet lady downstairs who took you in when you had no place else to go. Then you’re gonna go sit on the grass and wait for the cops to show up so they can take you downtown and book you for theft, assault, destruction of personal property, and anything else we can throw at you, because this bullshit ends now.”

  “Fuck you!” The girl with the switchblade shouted. “Who the fuck do you think you are? My mom? I don’t listen to that bitch, and I’m sure as hell not listening to you.”

  Holding the knife like it was some kind of hunting spear that she was about to throw, she lunged at me.

  Using my prosthetic arm to block, I countered with my right hand, landing a punch square in her stomach. I knocked the wind out of her, but fueled by drugs, she ignored the pain and came at me again. This time, she swiped her hand back and forth like an idiot. Dropping low, I swept her feet out from under her. She fell on her bony little ass with a resounding thud. Recovering way too quickly, she sliced at my leg with her switchblade. Jumping back, I kicked her just below the chin like my dad had taught me. Her head snapped back and she was finally down for the count.

  Her half-baked friend regarded her fallen comrade before finally setting the pipe down and giving us her undivided attention. “I’m sorry.”

  Stocks

  WHILE THE LADIES were in the house, I paced along the sidewalk, wondering if I should knock down the door or call Link. I trusted the ladies to hold their own in a women’s shelter, but not being able to see them still made me nervous. Wrangler, the new prospect, looked decidedly uncomfortable as he watched me march back and forth like a caged animal that needed to get out and take a piss.

  “You think they need us?” he asked.

  I glanced at the shelter. “If we bust in there and they don’t, they’ll make our lives hell.”

  “What if we bust in there and they do?”

  He made a good point, and I was only seconds away from seeing how valid it was when the door opened, and the ladies emerged. Nobody looked hurt, and Naomi was carrying a thin brunette while a thick redhead walked between Sasha and Monica. Naomi dropped her bundle like a sack of potatoes before waving me over.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. The sleeping girl ha
d one hell of a bruise forming on the soft tissue beneath her chin. “Did you do that?”

  “Nope. That was all Monie. You should have seen her. She marched right in there and handled shit. I haven’t seen our girl fight in forever, but let me tell you, it was worth the wait. That bitch and her little knife didn’t stand a chance.”

  “She had a knife?”

  Naomi shrugged, looking at me like I was an idiot. “Yeah. So? Wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle. Clearly.”

  Needing to see for myself that Monica was unharmed, I left Naomi to her sleeping captive and headed toward the porch where Monica was laying into the redhead sitting at her feet.

  “I don’t know why you choose to hang out with people like that,” Monica said, pointing at the knocked-out girl. “Have drugs destroyed every single one of your brain cells? I mean look at this woman.” She gestured at the old lady who ran the shelter. “She’s a queen. She’s given up so much to care for people like you and your crap-lousy friend. Then the two of you come into her house, eat her food, sleep in her bed, and disrespect her? Didn’t your mama teach you better than that?”

  The girl’s gaze dropped. “My mom left when I was little.”

  Monica blew out a breath. “Well, that is a cryin’ shame. But you see my badass friend Naomi over there standing by your friend? Her mom ran off when she was little, too, and she’s not out here acting like some ungrateful little hoodlum. You know what that girl did? She went to college, and then she became a helicopter pilot for the United States Air Force. She spent years flying into combat zones to pick up wounded soldiers.”

  The girl stared at Naomi with admiration in her eyes.

  “That woman is a queen. You know how to recognize a queen?”

  The girl shook her head. “No.”

  “When I forgot who I was, she came and got my ass out of bed and dragged me up here to remind me that even though I can’t fly anymore, I can be a part of something special. That’s what queens do. Queens shine each other’s crowns. They don’t enable each other to beat on old ladies and gang up on their sisters. Looks to me like you need to find some friends with a whole lot more royalty in their blood, and to stop hanging out with these goddamn bottom feeders who aren’t taking you nowhere but to jail.”

  A cop car pulled up to the curb.

  Monica dropped to squat in front of the girl, putting her closer to eye level. “Baby girl, you did the crime, so you’re gonna have to do the time, but I’m gonna come and visit you in jail.”

  “You are?” the girl asked, wiping away a tear.

  “Yes. I am not gonna leave you alone to rot in there. You handle your business, and when you get out, there will be a place for you. I promise.”

  The woman never ceased to amaze me.

  An idea had been cycling through my mind the entire time the ladies were inside the shelter. I kept trying to dismiss it, but hearing Monica talk to that girl made me think twice.

  “There will be a place for you. I promise.”

  I had to know if Monica had been plagued with the same idea.

  As the cops approached, Emily stepped in to show a phone video of what had transpired upstairs. I really wanted to see it, but I needed to talk to Monica more, so I pulled her aside.

  Framing her face with my hands, I looked her over for injuries. “Are you okay?”

  She cocked her head to the side like I was stupid. “They’re just girls, Stocks.”

  “But she had a knife.”

  “That she had no idea how to use. I only knocked her out because she was so goddamn high she wouldn’t stop coming at me.”

  Monica was fearless and beautiful, and I was so full of emotion, I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I love you,” I blurted out.

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? You’re gonna do that here? Now?”

  “Wasn’t the plan, but I couldn’t help it. Watching you with that girl… You’re… you’re fuckin’ amazing, and I needed you to know that I love the hell out of you.”

  Her eyes softened. “You think you’re so smooth.”

  “Like butter, baby.”

  Her lips pinched together as she fought a smile. Finally giving up, she chuckled and shook her head. “You’re something else, Stocks.”

  “Gage,” I replied.

  Her brows rose. “My real name. Gage Sinclaire. You should probably know it before you confess your undying love for me.”

  “And you think that’s what I’m about to do? By the way, that has to be the whitest name ever.”

  I nodded. “Are you thinking about taking over this place for that old woman?”

  She stared at me. “Am I that transparent?”

  “No. I just know you well.”

  She let out a breath. “That would be crazy, right?”

  I didn’t miss the fact she didn’t deny it. “No crazier than flying into combat zones to drop bombs on the enemy and give our troops some air support.”

  Surprise flickered in her eyes, telling me that wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting.

  “I’ll help you. We can do it together.”

  “Are you kidding me right now?”

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t joke about that, babe. But it makes sense. I wanna do something with my life, but I don’t need the paycheck. You don’t either. We could live here, and help out girls like Lily. I’ll learn how to fix shit around the shelter, and help with the cooking. You can lay into the girls and get them back in line whenever they step out, because that whole bossy aunt thing you had going on right there was pretty hot.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “We already know we work well together, and it’s not like I’m gonna get sick of being around you. We wouldn’t even have to do it alone, because you know the club would step in and help whenever we need them to.” I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe this is why I haven’t been able to find a job. Maybe I’m supposed to be here, helping you.”

  Her eyes filled with tears and she nodded. “I love you, Gage Sinclaire.”

  I’d suspected, but hearing her say it made my goddamn chest swell. Pulling her to me, I said, “Told you so.”

  Laughing, she punched me in the shoulder.

  I kissed her until we were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. When we separated, I looked around to find both girls sitting in the back of the police cruiser and an officer standing with his pen and pad, ready to take our statements.

  Monica

  Three Months Later

  MY PARENTS WERE driving up to celebrate Labor Day weekend with us, and I didn’t know who was more nervous, me or Stocks. I hadn’t seen them since the day I’d left with Stocks and Naomi, and although I’d given them the basic rundown of my new life plan, I was still worried about what they’d think when they actually saw the place full of young adults.

  “Downstairs bathrooms are clean,” Stocks said, kissing my cheek as he passed by and headed for the back door with his hands full of garbage bags.

  I’d had my permanent prosthetic for two and a half months and was really getting the hang of it. Using an app on my phone, I could change the grip and customize its functionality. Currently, I was using it to keep a giant glass mixing bowl steady while I mixed the contents. Cooking got a little easier every time I did it, and I was determined to master this shit.

  After all, that was my job now.

  The girls and I had formed a non-profit organization named Ladies First. We’d elected Naomi to be the president, me as the vice president, Sasha for secretary, and Emily was the treasurer. Carly, Julia, and Jessica were all three members but had opted out of board positions because of their jobs and busy lives.

  I donated my settlement money from the accident, and Julia donated some of her dead ex-husband’s dough, enabling the organization to purchase the Sacred Peace Women’s Shelter and send Ms. Helen off with a fat check to go live her best life. She’d done amazing work, and we wanted her to enjoy a worthy retirement. We renamed the shelter “the Castle,�
� to remind all our tenants that they were queens and needed to act accordingly, lest we kick them in their royal derrieres. Ladies First also officially hired me and Stocks as the live-in managers, giving us each a small salary funded through the other donations we’d all been working hard to obtain.

  When we took it over, the shelter had been housing six girls, ranging from age eighteen to twenty-four. Mindy and Rita went to jail, and we’d added one more, so now we had five. And I was constantly surprised by how much food five young adult girls could consume.

  I’d been visiting Rita in jail twice a week, and—as far as I knew—I was the only person who ever showed up to see her. She was scheduled to be released on probation in two weeks, and I’d kept my word and saved her room for her. It might have been foolish to give her another shot, but Ms. Helen and Lily both called Mindy the ringleader, and Rita had shown remorse. I was willing to take the chance that she could still be redeemed. And I’d made it clear that the first time she brought drugs or trouble into our house, she’d be out on her ass before she could so much as mutter the words, “Meth is for dummies.”

  “Hey, Mon. I’m done vacuuming. What else do you need done?” Lily asked, joining me in the kitchen. She was wearing her grandmother’s necklace. We’d recovered it—along with the rest of her belongings—from Mindy and Rita’s room. Now that it was safe around Lily’s neck, the girl never took it off.

  Finished stirring, I set the bowl down and pointed to a pile of ingredients beside the biggest cutting board I could find. “Will you please get started on the salad?”

  “Sure. Which bowl do you want me to use?”

  “Red one. Second cupboard on the left above the sink.”

  She grabbed the bowl. At my nod, she plopped it down on the counter and started chopping away. Cari, Tiona, Jade, and Mila joined us and I set them to work as well. By the time my parents finally arrived, dinner was ready, and the house was as close to spotless as an old castle could be.

  We said our hellos and I gave my parents a quick tour around the building before we all sat down to eat.