Never Enough: The Vipers MC Read online

  “What, a loan shark? Oh, jeez. I don’t know.”

  Cindy stood, pouring me another glass. “Hey, you’re bound to find something soon, right? It would erase your immediate debts. You’d have heat, food, David would still be in school.”

  “Yes, school is non-negotiable.” The public schools in our area were dismal, to say the least. I wanted my boy to get an education, not get beat up and mugged every day.

  “And you’d still have a roof over your head. I know something is going to come through for you. I feel it in my bones. You know how I am.” I smiled indulgently—yes, I knew how she was. For all her worldliness, my friend thought of herself as an amateur psychic. Her grandmother allegedly had the gift and passed it on to her granddaughter.

  “I know how those men are, though. I don’t need somebody coming around, threatening to break my kneecaps if I don’t pay up.”

  “He won’t. My friend borrowed money once to help him get through a tough time. He said Joe Green is totally above-board, very professional. He’s not a scummy knee breaker.”

  I thought it over, biting the inside of my mouth the way I always did when something was on my mind.

  “All right. I’ll go see him first thing in the morning.” I couldn’t help loving the thought of getting the heat turned back on, of not fearing the power and water getting cut off. No eviction. No pulling David from school. We could eat, for heaven’s sake.

  Cindy called David in for dinner, and the three of us got down to the business of enjoying the evening. I felt much better than I had in a long time.

  Chapter Two

  Jess

  I looked up at the nondescript brick building at the edge of town, then back down at the address Cindy had sent via text. It was the right place. It didn’t look like it, though.

  I walked up to the front door, knocking tentatively. It seemed abandoned. People did business there? I didn’t see a car parked outside, or any signs of life aside from weeds sticking up from broken concrete.

  “Yeah?” I looked around, startled at the sound of a gruff voice. I cleared my throat, wondering where the speaker sat. I couldn’t see it anywhere, though I heard the voice loud and clear.

  “I’m here to see Joe Green.” I finally spotted a tiny camera above the door, and made a point to look straight up into it. I wasn’t threatening anyone.

  “Who sent you?”

  That one threw me. “Uh, nobody sent me. I came on my own. I heard he could help me with some financial trouble I’d been having lately. Maybe I got the wrong information. I’m sorry.” I was ready to leave and never return. Who sent me? That question alone made me question how professional the man really was, and how shady his business was.

  A buzzer sounded. “Come in.” A split second’s hesitation, in which I questioned my sanity before remembering why I was asking for the money, before opening the door.

  My eyes widened in disbelief when I saw the inside of the building. It was a total shock, like stepping through a portal into bizarro world. If I hadn’t known better, the tastefully decorated room would’ve led me to believe I was in the waiting area of a prestigious law firm. Even the expertly lit artwork hanging on the walls told me Joe was not a man to be trifled with. Who was he?

  “Hello.” The man belonging to the voice I’d heard through the speakers greeted me. He sat behind a desk, but I had the feeling he was no secretary. More like a bodyguard. Though he wore a suit, I could imagine him getting his hands dirty. Very dirty.

  “Hi. My name is Jess McKinley. A friend of mine recommended I come here to see Joe. I’m in big trouble, and I might lose my apartment if I don’t pay up.”

  He held up a large, calloused hand. “I don’t need to hear the sob story, lady. You need money. I get it. That’s what Joe does. Plus some other things.” He smiled nastily, and it wasn’t lost on me that his eyes inspected me like I was a prize piece of meat. I felt exposed, though I was fully dressed.

  “Can I see him?”

  “Nobody just walks in to see the boss. Almost nobody ever actually talks to him.”

  “I see. How do people get money from him, then?”

  “He has his ways.” The man gestured to a camera above his head. I realized Joe—if that was his real name, which I doubted—could see me, wherever happened to be.

  “Oh. Okay.” I smoothed a self-conscious hand over my hair, then straightened out the skirt and blouse I wore beneath my coat. If Joe was that mysterious, he must’ve been a very powerful—and potentially dangerous—person. Once again, I had second thoughts.

  The man at the desk held a hand to his ear. “How much money do you need?” he asked. I wondered what the gesture was all about, then realized Joe probably spoke into the man’s ear through a device. He didn’t take any chances.

  “Five thousand dollars.” The words sounded heavy as they left my mouth. My friend in the suit chuckled.

  “A lot of money,” he pointed out.

  “I need a lot of money. You said you didn’t want to hear the sob story, so I guess you’ll have to believe I need it very badly.”

  “Lady, nobody comes here unless they need something very badly.” He sneered. His words, and the tone in which he delivered them, made me shiver.

  “Am I a good candidate for a loan, then? Do I qualify?” I looked up at the camera, staring straight into it. I wanted him to see I wasn’t afraid. I was terrified, actually, but he didn’t need to know that.

  The guard held a hand to his ear again, listening closely. “Yeah, you qualify.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Before you give me the money, I need to know about the terms of repayment.”

  He laughed. “You’re sharp. Most people don’t think to ask about that.” He leaned toward me, hands folded. “Joe wants one thousand dollars a week, starting a month from now.”

  I thought fast. One month. That was almost no time. I had nobody to ask for the money, or else I wouldn’t be there. Would that be enough for me to find a grand?

  “Keep in mind,” the guard said, “if he doesn’t get his money on time, he adds interest. But he likes you. He doesn’t usually let people wait a whole month before they start repaying.”

  “That’s nice to hear.” I did what I could to keep the sarcasm from my voice. I’d always been accused of being a smartass, and I made no excuses for myself. I didn’t think it would be appreciated in the present circumstances, though.

  The man stood, and I gulped at the size of him. He reminded me of a redwood tree, tall, thick, the sort of person it would take a lot of effort—or large-gauge ammo—to take down. He didn’t say a word before walking out of the room, through a door near his desk. I wondered if that was where they stored the money. How did they manage to keep it safe? I realized I didn’t want to know.

  He came back, tossing an envelope into my lap. “There.”

  I blinked. “As simple as that?”

  “As simple as that.”

  How would they find me if I didn’t repay the money? Another thing I didn’t want to know. I’d already told him my name. It was probably enough. Besides, I had no intention of letting myself fall behind. I stuffed the envelope into my purse without bothering to count the money—I didn’t want to insult them—and nearly ran for the door.

  “Hold on a sec.” Damn it. I closed my eyes, knowing there had to be a catch. “Just remember, my boss has ways of getting his money back when he wants it. You don’t look like the type who borrows cash like this all the time. You better be ready to pay back when the time comes.

  “I will be.” I turned to him, giving him the closest I could get to a smile. “I promise.”

  “We don’t want your promises. We want money.” I took that as a dismissal, so I nodded and hightailed it out of there. I could hardly breathe, my heart raced so fast. I was afraid I might pass out until I reached the outdoors again, breathing deeply of the cold, clean air. I could have danced for joy. I finally had money. The thought of heat and food and security was enough to push asi
de the fear which took root when I wondered how the heck I would get my hands on the money.

  ***

  “Where’s the money you owe my boss?”

  My eyes flew open wide. I’d been watching my back for days, unable to make the first payment on the loan. I knew somebody would be coming for me, I just didn’t know when or how. I’d only been walking out of the corner store with a bag of food when a thug in black clothing had accosted me, cornering me against the front stairway of an apartment building. He wedged me between the stairs and the front wall.

  I stammered, tripping over my tongue. “I don’t have the whole thousand. I had a second interview for a job, but it fell through.”

  “My boss don’t give a shit if your interview fell through. He wants his money. And now that you’re a week late, he wants interest. So you owe fifteen hundred.” He sneered, then added, “That’s not counting the next thousand, either. You know, the money you owe today.”

  My eyes widened. “Twenty-five hundred?”

  “Starting tomorrow, it’ll be that, plus half of that.” I knew he couldn’t do the math. I didn’t need him to. I was drowning in debt to a loan shark. What had I been thinking? Yes, having the bills paid was nice and everything, but not when it resulted in threats of violence.

  “Like I said, I thought I was good for it. I really did. I was almost sure this job was going to come through, and then…”

  “I don’t wanna hear your bullshit stories, and neither does my boss.” The man was thin, wiry, but there was tension in every part of him. Violence, just waiting to be unleashed. On me. Steel gray eyes blazed, burning into mine.

  “I’m sorry. I am. Look, I still have a couple hundred left over from what he gave me. I can give that to you now.”

  “He doesn’t want your couple hundred bucks. He wants what you agreed to pay him.” The man moved closer, and I pressed myself into the corner to get as far away as possible. I held the bag of groceries in front of me, a sort of desperate shield, but he batted it away. I shrieked, watching as the milk carton and eggs burst on hitting the pavement.

  “Gimme the money.”

  “I don’t have it! How can I give you something I don’t have?” My eyes darted back and forth, looking over his shoulders, hoping somebody would come by and help me. It wasn’t very late at night, so there should’ve been foot traffic. The cold kept people indoors, though.

  He snarled, and I whimpered with fright. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him raise a fist. I flinched, throwing my hands up over my face, squeezing my eyes shut. I managed to get out a single scream.

  Then, a cry of surprise. My eyes flew open to find my attacker grappling with a second man. There was no room for me to get by—if there had been, I would’ve run like the wind, groceries or no groceries. All I could do was watch helplessly as they struggled.

  My savior landed a sharp, clean blow to the would-be attacker’s nose, sending him staggering back into a row of trash cans. He went reeling backward over them, then groaned, too dazed to get to his feet.

  I let out a shaky sob of relief. “Thank you so much—” The words died in my throat when my savior turned, meeting my gaze. Fear greater than even that which I’d felt before rose in me, blotting out everything. All I saw were those incredibly sapphire blue eyes. I would’ve known them anywhere.

  “Well, if it isn’t my ex-wife,” Grayson growled. “Long time no see, Jess.”

  Chapter Three

  Grayson

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” She tried to run, but I grabbed her by the arm.

  “Let me go, damn it!” Jess struggled. It was all so damned surreal. All I did was stop my bike when I heard a woman scream, and the next thing I knew I was holding on to the woman who left me seven years before. It didn’t take much effort to keep my grip on her. She was still small and light.

  “I don’t think so. You think I’d let you go after seven years with no word from you? I finally found you, and I’m supposed to let you run off again?”

  “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.” She jerked her arm and almost got away.

  “No way. Keep dreaming.” I yanked her, pulling her to me. She wore the same perfume.

  A sound by the trashcans made us both turn to look. Jess’s attacker was on his feet, running away. My instinct was to let her go and stop him, maybe kick the shit out of him a little more. I couldn’t give in. I had a hold of her for the first time in years. I wasn’t letting go.

  “Come on.” I pulled her with me, heading for the bike. “We have a lot of shit to clear up.”

  “Oh, no. No way. I’m not going anywhere with you!” She kicked my shins. I cried out, rubbing one of them with my free hand. She always knew how to hurt me when she wanted to.

  “Is this a fucking playground? You’re coming with me, and that’s final. Unless you want me to hand you over to whoever the hell is after you.”

  That stopped her. “What makes you think somebody’s after me? He was a mugger.”

  “Bullshit. He would’ve had your purse by the time I got there. He wanted something else. Now get on the goddamned bike.” I threw one leg over it, then pulled her behind me. She knew she didn’t have a choice and finally gave in.

  I told myself it didn’t matter when I felt her arms slide around my waist. How many times had she ridden behind me? Hundreds? That was when I loved her. Before I spent seven years hating her guts.

  I sped off in the direction of my apartment. How the hell had this happened? All I was doing was going home after a long day. There was construction and a big jam-up on my normal route, so I had taken the detour through a neighborhood I didn’t usually ride through. There she was. The whole time I’d been looking for her, and she was only ten minutes out of the way.

  I had stopped looking for her after the first six months, then started hating her right after that. Around the time the divorce papers came in. All she left behind was a letter. Just a fucking letter. And the ring I gave her on our wedding day. I still felt like she punched me in the gut when I thought about it, years later. It was all I could do to keep riding the bike, instead of pulling over and screaming at her for all the shit she put me through. Seven years of it.

  I couldn’t wait to hear the excuse she gave. She had enough time to come up with a good one. For a long time, I was sure she was screwing around on the side. She must have run away with another guy, somebody from another MC, maybe. Definitely not one of my guys. I would’ve known if that were the case.

  “Slow down!” she screamed over the wind. I sped up, instead. She cursed me out. I pretended I didn’t hear her. I knew it drove her nuts.

  She’d find out what happened to people who screwed around with a Viper.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as we stopped at a red light. I didn’t answer. “I’ll get off this bike right now, Grayson. Tell me.”

  “To my place,” I said, before pulling forward again. She let out something that sounded like a cross between a scream and a curse. I didn’t laugh, but wanted to. It wasn’t a nice laugh, either. Not the kind of sound you make when you’re happy.

  I wasn’t happy. I wanted to kill her. I’d imagined seeing her again so many times. The things I would say to her. The way I’d make her sorry for leaving me, making a fool of me. Making me think she loved me right up to the end. Right up to when she ran away.

  What the hell was she doing with the loser I found her with? And she left me? What, to get in trouble with people worse than me?

  I made a left, in the direction of my apartment. The building used to be a factory, but when I moved in it was a bunch of new loft apartments. I liked it because it was rough, with the original brick walls and wood floors. And it was big, with plenty of space. I was always sorta claustrophobic, ever since I was a kid. Probably why I liked riding my bike better than driving a car. I needed the open air.

  We pulled into the garage. Jess was quiet, which was the right choice. I didn’t know what I’d do if she kept fighting me. Seven year
s of anger weren’t something to screw with.

  I waited for her to climb off. I turned to her. She didn’t try to run away—probably because she had nowhere to go.

  “I can’t be here,” she muttered.

  I was still sitting on the bike, looking her up and down. She looked damn good. Almost too good. She was wearing a coat, but I could tell her body still looked great. She was still thin, like I remembered her. The only thing that changed was her eyes. Same color, just older looking. Her whole face looked older, actually. Circles under her eyes.

  “Were you just sick?” I asked.

  “What?” Her eyes bulged.

  “You look like you’re getting over being sick, or something.”