Page 4 of Devil's Queen
“No. I’m going to finish Mr. Diaz’s order even if I have to stay late.”
She doesn’t hide the sigh of relief leaving her chest, and I can’t blame her for worrying about her only surviving child. Club life is dangerous for a man. That risk increases being a female club with no male-associated club to back it. The VCQs are on our own. We have no support outside of our membership and the temporary alliance I have built through my stepbrother’s connection to Heaven’s Rejects.
“Thanks, Mama. He has his club activities after school today, so he should be done around four thirty.” She nods in agreement.
I head back into my office and call Harlow, giving her an update on everything going on. For the last several weeks, we’ve had issues getting supplies from our vendors, and now I have employees flying the coop without notice. She asks me the one question I had tried to avoid thinking about since shit started going sideways.
“Is it them?”
Lord, I hope not.
Dad’s former club, Zulu Kings, had done everything in their power to rip it away from me. Their sense of entitlement to the empire my father had built prior to the formation of his club has been a thorn in my side since they read his will.
The second I reopened the doors, I dealt with break-ins, thefts of supplies, and even inspections by the Parish Department of Safety and Permits about complaints lodged against us anonymously. It came to a head when their president and my dad’s former VP, Wolff, filed a lawsuit against me.
It had taken three years and money I didn’t have to finally settle it. They were legally entitled to nothing. My father’s will and the fact that the business was in my name was too much of a legal standing for their flimsy claims. Since the case’s decision, things had been quiet from them. Quiet only means two things—they’ve given up, not likely with that batch of conniving bastards, or they’re waiting to make their move.Could they be behind this dissension amongst my business ranks? It’s a possibility I can’t rule out, but until I have evidence to prove their involvement, I can only assume that Skyler is to blame for my current trouble.
Shaking it from my mind, I head downstairs and get to work on my client’s bike. The only thing keeping me company is the heavy metal music playing in the background as I work. Hours pass by until the hot summer sun disappears, and the sound of the French Quarter nightlife begins to drift in from outside.
Looking over the bike one last time, I nod. The only thing left to do is hope and pray that when I call our client in the morning to let him know his bike is done, I don’t have to give him too much of a discount for it being a few days late.
I head upstairs to collect my helmet and head home when my mama’s phone rings on her desk. Normally, I wouldn’t answer it after hours, but with the way things were going today, I wouldn’t put it past another one of my employees calling to quit on the sly. I stalk over to her desk and answer.
“Papa Midnight Customs,” I say into the receiver. The other side is silent for a split second before a voice I haven’t heard in years finally speaks out.
“Hello, Rem.” My throat dries up instantly. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not after so many years of him not reaching out to me. “You there?” his deep voice calls out against my silence. “Say something.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” I yell as I hang up on the one person who broke me all those years ago.
REX
I should have known betterthan to call her. After so many years, I thought she might want to hear from me. What a naïve fool I am.
“How did it go?” Coffey, my enforcer, smirks at me from the doorway as he casually leans against it. He had obviously listened in on every word of my short conversation with Remy. “Is she taking you back with open arms? Should I reserve the chapel for the wedding?”
“Get lost,” I bark in response.
He strides over to my desk and sits in the leather chair across from me.
“I warned you before. A woman like her won’t be forgiving you anytime soon, not with the type of blood she comes from. If she has even half her father’s temper, you might as well forget about making amends with a simple phone call.”
I know he’s right. I had been a prospect under Landry’s motorcycle club for two years, and honestly, it was the worst time of my life. However, Rem was the only light in that dark tunnel. She was what kept me trudging along while getting pushed around by every patched member of the group. Rene Landry himself was especially cruel when he discovered that his daughter and I were sleeping together. Of course, there were rules against fraternizing with women related to club members, but I couldn’t help myself when it came to Rem. Despite my attempts at cutting her loose from my heart, she always managed to seep back in like a slow-acting poison.
“No shit. I think I figured that out.”
“Did you try flowers?” another voice rings out from the hallway outside my office. “Bitches love flowers.”
This is not the kind of problem that flowers can fix. I don’t even think groveling on my hands and knees, begging for her forgiveness would solve it. Remington Laveau is a complicated woman, and nothing short of a miracle would make her forgive me for what I did all those years ago.
“Flowers. Really, asshole?”
Tex’s bald head peeks around the corner, grinning. “Works with my wife,” he remarks.
“You think it works,” Coffey teases him from behind. “She’s just waiting for the right time to put you in your place.”
I can’t help but laugh. Missy had a special talent when it came to torturing her husband. If there were ever a job that was perfect for anyone, it would be tormenting Tex.
“Are you going to call her again?” Coffey asks, sliding his phone over the table toward me. “You can use mine so she doesn’t recognize it. I’ll watch,” he whispers, leaning forward and placing his face into the palms of his hands like a baby on picture day.