Hard Run, Page 2

She opened her eyes and forced herself up into a sitting position, aided by Jessie. “Because my brother decided to be stupid and work for those monsters. He’s in a hospital room right now, fighting for his life, trying to flush the drugs out of his system. I want the Wolf dead for that.”

  Finn’s mouth went dry. This wasn’t a general call to save her town. This was vengeance aimed at one man.

  He understood that urge, that desperate hole inside a person’s soul crying out to be filled with blood.

  Someone else’s blood.

  “Your brother?” He managed to force the words out.

  “Yes.” Skye swallowed hard. “He’s all I have. He graduated Las Vegas University last year. He’s been sending his resume out and working odd jobs on the side, waiting for an offer.” She scrubbed her face with both palms. “Once he found a good job, we would have been out of the red and we’d have been fine. Maybe I’d even have enough breathing room to go back to college, finish my business degree.”

  Dylan glanced at the camera, most likely adding the news onto Trey’s plate.

  “Then out of the blue, he tells me he’s picked up a temp job driving a car from Las Vegas to Los Angeles, so he’s going to be out of town for a few days. All I can do is tell him to be careful, and he gives me that smile before he leaves.” She made a choking sound, tearing at Finn’s heart.

  “I wasn’t worried when I didn’t hear from him for a day, then two. Figured he’s busy trying to hustle a ride back, maybe looking for some local work. Then a week ago, I got a phone call from the hospital. Someone found Robby behind a dumpster at the edge of town, beaten up, with a damned needle in his arm. Thank God he still had his wallet on him—I’m listed as his emergency contact. By the time I got to the hospital, they’d diagnosed a heroin overdose and started treatment. The cop who took the report looked me straight in the face and told me he must have gotten into a fight with another junkie and shot up right after.”

  She stared at Dylan. “I don’t buy it for a second. He’s not a drug addict. He’s never even smoked a joint. I’ve overheard people talking about the Wolf’s Teeth, about how they’re the ones responsible for the heroin problem in town. I did some research, put two and two together, and realized Robby had gotten a job all right—he’d ended up working for them as a mule, driving a car filled with their damned drugs.” She paused to catch her breath. “He’d gone someplace to pick the heroin up and bring it back to Whispering Willows so those monsters could sell that poison. What he told me was a half lie, just enough to keep me out of the way.”

  Finn clenched his teeth so tightly he thought for a second a crown was going to pop off.

  “I thought about confronting them, but I’m not suicidal. So, I went to the police and gave them what I knew, told them what I thought.” She let out an annoyed snort. “Local cops didn’t even bother to bring in Smith for questioning. Said there was no way to connect them to the crime, told me Robby lied to me about everything and was just a drug user trying to hide his habit.” The cutting sarcasm in her voice left no doubt what she believed.

  “How is he?” Dylan asked.

  “Robby’s in a coma. Doctor told me he’d taken a dose of almost pure heroin.” She rubbed her forehead again. “Should have killed him, but Robby’s a tough man. Takes after our father. After they settled him in ICU, I went home and tore his room apart looking for clues. There was a notebook listing our debts.” Her face went red. “We’re in pretty deep, between his student loans and basic, plain living. Robby had a plan set up for who to pay off first and so forth, based on running drugs for the gang. Within the year, he’d have had everything paid off and a little extra on the side. In theory.” She sighed. “Robby was always a bit of a dreamer.”

  “Something went wrong with the job. He did or didn’t do something, got in trouble with the gang, and they decided to get rid of him,” Dylan said in a low voice. “He couldn’t just disappear; it’ll start people poking around and asking questions. So, they beat him up, stuck a needle in his arm to finish the job, and dropped him somewhere, hoping he’ll die.”

  “Except he didn’t,” Finn added. “Hospital did their best, saved him from an overdose. But the gang has the car now, and the drugs, which will be going straight to the street.”

  Skye continued. “The doctors tell me Robby might wake up, he might not. He’s stabilized, but that’s all they can do for now. No one can pin anything on the gang—from what I got from the cops, they’ve got most of the local businesses terrified into silence, collecting protection money on the side while they distribute their drugs throughout the town.”

  “Most gangs don’t specialize in one vice,” Dylan said. “They spread out into other areas—prostitution, gambling, and so forth. They may not need the money, but they need the power, the leverage to make people say and do what they want.”

  Skye shook her head. “I’ve told hospital security I’m worried the gang will come at Robby. They shrugged and told me they’d deal with it if something happens.” She swallowed hard. “When he wakes up, he’ll be able to testify against Smith and the others, and that makes him a target. I don’t think for a second the security guards will be able to keep him safe if the bikers make a run at him.” She drew a deep breath. “I’m very aware my next visit to the hospital could be to collect his body for burial.” She stared at Finn, the cold blue flames in her eyes calling out for revenge. “That’s why I need your help. To keep him safe, and to push the Wolf’s Teeth out of the area, put them out of business. I won’t let them destroy anyone else.” Skye stood up, startling them all. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. This isn’t any of your concern. I’ll find some other way to deal with this.”

  She grabbed her purse off the floor and turned toward the door.

  Finn stepped in front of the exit, stopping her. “If you think you’re going to walk out of here after telling us all that, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  Skye glared at him. “You can’t hold me here.”

  He fought back the urge to smile, impressed at her determination.

  She’d come into the Playground a quiet, wilted flower, and now here she was trying to stare him down and push her way out of Dylan’s office.

  A voice came from behind her. “We’re not going to kill Smith for you. It goes against everything we do, everything we stand for.”

  She turned to see Dylan by his desk, arms crossed in front of him. “You need our help, and we’re going to give it to you. It’ll be on our terms, however—not yours.”

  Skye took a step sideways, back toward the couch. The fight drained out of her eyes, and she slumped back onto the cushions.

  Jessie sat down next to Skye and put her arm around her shoulders.

  Skye looked up. “What do you mean?”

  “That heroin’s going to kill people, and I don’t like that. I also don’t like thugs who take advantage of men trying to do the right thing by their sisters. So, we’re going to go back with you to Whistling Willows and put this gang behind bars.” He pointed at Finn. “Saddle up. This one’s yours.”

  “What?”

  Dylan zeroed in on him, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “You take lead on this. Keep me updated.” He looked at the camera. “Trey, copy Finn on all the info. We’re coming down to the briefing room.”

  His attention went to Jessie. “You okay here?”

  She waved him off, her arm still tight on Skye’s shoulders. “We’re going to eat and chat a little, rest up and recover. You go do what you do best.” She winked. “Well, second-best.”

  Finn chuckled as the tips of Dylan’s ears went red.

  Dylan gave Jessie a last nod before stepping out of the office. Finn followed, closing the door behind him to give the two women some privacy. It took him only a few steps to meet Dylan at the elevator, the call button already lit up.

  “You could give this to Trey,” Finn said as the doors slid open. “Why me?”

  “Because I said so.” Dylan frowned. “Wh
at’s the problem? I thought you’d be eager to go after a bunch of drug dealers.”

  “I am. But Skye, she’s not…” Finn shook his head. “I’ve got a feeling about her.”

  That earned him a curious stare.

  “What I mean is that usually when we take on a job, the person listens to us, does what we say ’cause we’re all working to the same end.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, back toward Dylan’s office. “She came in here to ask our help to murder a man. She doesn’t strike me as someone who’s willing to give up control over that goal. She might not be able to handle Smith going behind bars instead of into the ground.”

  The car arrived and they went in, where Dylan punched the button to take them down to the lower levels of the club, to the heart of the Brotherhood. “Then we help her understand.” He stared at Finn. “That’s why I need you on this. You know what she’s going through, and you’ll know what she needs to survive, especially if Robby dies. As far as the mission goes, that’s on you. I think you can handle her.” A smile tweaked the edges of his mouth. “One way or another.”

  They rode down in silence.

  Chapter Three

  Skye looked at the shredded tissues in her hands. Her stomach churned, the reality of what she’d asked these people to do settling in her gut. She still couldn’t believe she’d said the words out loud.

  What had possessed her to think she could come here and demand they help her kill Smith?

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.” Jessie gently extracted the tissues and tossed them into the nearby trash can, then she offered the box to refresh Skye’s stash. “You did the right thing coming here.”

  A knock came at the door.

  Jessie patted her knee and got up. “Finally. I’m starving. Worked all day on a fraud case before coming here to hang out instead of getting myself dinner. Good thing you’re here—I hate to eat alone.”

  As the other woman went to the door, Skye kept glancing over at the glass window, which vibrated with the throbbing music still coming from the dance floor.

  Jessie came back with two plates of food and placed them on the table in front of the couch. “I’m not going to tell you this is the best cheeseburger ever, but darned close. And the fries are sprinkled with cheese and hot pepper flakes, so don’t be surprised at the heat.” She went to the mini fridge and plucked out a pair of water bottles. She opened one and handed Skye the other. “Don’t worry. Dylan and Finn know what they’re doing.”

  “At least that makes two of them.” Skye pressed the cold bottle to her forehead, sighing at the icy touch. “Coming in here, yelling and screaming like that… I must look crazy.”

  “Nah. That’s my job.” Jessie sat down beside her. “You care about your brother. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing at all. Trust me, I understand a bit about what you’re going through.”

  “Robby’s all I have.” Skye picked up one of the fries and nibbled on it, finding her appetite returning with each bite. “All I could think about when I saw him in that hospital bed was getting revenge.” She dropped her head. “That’s awful.”

  “That’s human,” Jessie said. “Given that situation, I can’t imagine too many people who wouldn’t be thinking the same thing.”

  “I guess so. I sat there, ranting and raving about what I couldn’t do. Then about what I could do. Guess Pat got tired of my cursing. She passed me that card, and I drove straight here.” She looked around the office. “To whoever you and they are.”

  Jessie smiled. “Dylan runs a group of men who take on cases where the law can’t or won’t get involved. It’s complicated, but the long and short of it is that they’ll help you. All we ask is that you don’t tell anyone about the Brotherhood, so we can keep on helping those who need it.”

  Skye took a bite of her cheeseburger, her stomach growling as she found it as delicious as promised. She finished it and took a sip of water before daring to speak. “I don’t understand. What can they do? If the cops won’t help me, what can these men do?” She stopped, seeing Jessie’s wide grin.

  “They have their ways,” the blonde said. “Trust me. They’ll do right by you.”

  …

  “Skye Eleanor Harris. Born in San Diego, one of two children. She has a brother six years younger, Robert James. Parents passed away courtesy of a drunk driver going the wrong way on the highway. Idiot driver survived, then came a long, nasty court case, ending in probation for him and a decent insurance settlement for the two surviving children. Skye was eighteen and decided to raise Robby on her own instead of putting him into foster care—no other family around to help out. They moved to Whispering Willows not long after that and used up what was left of the money to get settled.” Trey tapped on the keyboard, bringing up a series of images. “Took one semester at LVU for business, high marks. She ended up not finishing her degree due to financial difficulties.”

  “Wasn’t the payout enough?” Finn asked.

  “Not after all the lawyers got their cut. The single semester was all she could afford, between keeping her brother in school and keeping the household running. She dropped out and started working as a waitress, taking on a variety of odd jobs to survive. All good references, everyone loves her. Brother went to college a few years later, got himself a nice computer tech degree. Won a few scholarships along the way and took out some student loans, but it looks like Skye did most of the heavy lifting. They’re deep in debt and treading water right now.”

  “Sacrificed her education for his.” Finn shook his head. “Dedicated to her brother. Can see why she’d go all rabid at seeing him get hurt like this.”

  Dylan nodded, looking thoughtful. “Whispering Willows. Interesting name for a desert town.”

  “I’d say the same about Las Vegas, which is Spanish for ‘the meadows.’ Go figure.” Trey shifted the images, bringing up more pictures on the various screens set around the briefing room. “Whispering Willows looks like a nice place on the surface. But according to recent news reports, there’s been a huge increase in drug use over the last six months. Crime’s up, local hospital and health clinics hit hard with addicts seeking treatment.”

  Dylan, seated at the conference table, studied the graphs and charts flashing up on the screen. “Looks bad.”

  “It is bad. There’s always been a low level of drugs available—marijuana, prescription drugs, some cocaine and heroin here and there. A year ago a new player showed up, started running some high-grade heroin into the area. Use spiked, along with the overdoses.”

  Finn winced. “They’re cutting it with something else, maybe Fentanyl. It’s cheap and easy to obtain, allows them to stretch out the heroin and make more money. Adding in Fentanyl also makes the doses stronger, more potent. The users get it, think they can use the same amount for the same high. Makes their hearts explode.” He ground his teeth together, forcing back the memories threatening to fight their way to the front of his mind.

  “Why hire from outside the gang?” Dylan asked. “They’ve got enough members—why not have one of their own drive the car?”

  “Lowers the risk factor.” Finn studied the screen. “If the authorities grab the car, the driver’s not connected to the gang, has no information to bargain with.”

  Dylan nodded. “So why aren’t the cops moving on this? Can’t be a big secret about who’s dealing.”

  Trey brought up an image of the local police station. “They’re overwhelmed. Only a handful of officers trying to deal with the rising crime rate and failing badly. Town council’s unwilling to put the money out for more officers because they’d have to raise taxes, so while they’re fighting among themselves, the gang’s running wild.” He turned his attention to Dylan. “Explains why the cops were willing to write Robby’s attack off. They don’t have the time or manpower to go after the gang.”

  “What about the Feds?” Finn asked.

  “No ongoing operations in the area, and nothing scheduled in the near future. Odds are we’
ll be going in alone to deal with these guys.” Another picture came up on the screen. “To be specific, this guy.”

  A tall, wiry man glared out at them. “LAPD mug shot of Mick Smith, AKA the Wolf. Took leadership the old-fashioned way—killed the previous chief.”

  “How?” Dylan asked.

  “Officially, a bike accident. Wiped out on a highway and got hit by multiple vehicles. Unofficially, knocked down by Smith and pushed into oncoming traffic. No living family, so no one asked for any further investigation. Smith took charge of the gang without anyone putting up a fight. Changed the name to reflect his leadership.”

  “What the Wolf wants the Wolf gets,” Finn said. “What was he arrested for?”

  “Assault and battery. Did his time, paid the fine, and walked.” Trey touched the screen. “LAPD was glad to see him leave when he moved the gang out of town.”

  “So where do you want to start?” Dylan focused his gaze on Finn.

  “Get my ass to Whispering Willows, do some basic recon. Start scoping out the gang’s hideout, where they eat and party, the usual places. Figure out where they’re making the transfers and where they’re processing the dope.” Finn rubbed his chin. “Where they’re finding these drivers. They’re not putting up an ad on the internet asking for help, but they found Robby somehow. If he wasn’t using drugs, then someone pointed him toward Smith.”

  Trey nodded. “I’ll get a toy box ready to go and set up a workstation here.”

  “Good,” Dylan said. “Get hold of Wyatt and Ace. Tell them to grab a van and head for the hospital right now, to keep an eye on her brother. Give them covers as private nurses so no one kicks up a fuss. Odds are Smith’s already got a man on watch, making sure that if Robby wakes up, it won’t be long enough to point the finger at the gang. Let’s keep him safe.”

  “Done and done.” Trey tapped on his laptop.

  Dylan glanced up at the surveillance screen showing Jessie and Skye in his office. “Be ready to move out in the morning. We’ll offer her a place to stay overnight. She’s in no condition to drive back right now.”