“He could’ve hired someone,” Rocco pointed out, throwing my father under the bus.
“I considered that. But Cage Owens was seen at the motel this week, by an FBI agent who’s been part of an undercover sting. I think he makes a very credible witness.”
“He’s wrong,” I said, my voice hollow and raw. “Please go.”
“I have more questions.”
“They’ll have to wait,” Rocco told her, then called for Cage, who was next to me in seconds, even as Flores was telling me, “We can do this down at the station.”
“Is Calla being charged with something?” Cage asked.
“Not yet.” Not yet. Oh my God. “You’ll most likely be charged together.”
“Get the hell out of my house, Detective.” Cage’s voice was a growl, enough to make Flores start a little. And I figured it took a hell of a lot for that to happen.
When she’d gone, Cage came over to me. Rocco had disappeared into the kitchen with Tenn and Preacher to tell them what happened, I figured.
“You heard everything, I’m guessing.”
“Helps that the place is wired,” Cage said. “I knew you’d be fine with Rocco, but figured we needed a heads-up. And, babe, I didn’t ask you to be my alibi.”
“That’s right—you’re not asking or telling me anything.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
My mouth opened to ask him if he’d killed Ned. He’d been angry enough to want to. So had I. But instead, I asked, “Do you think it’s been Ned all these years and not Harris?”
Ned had been the same age as Harris, but Ned hadn’t gone to the same boarding school as I had. My father paid for it and his wouldn’t. “I don’t know.”
“If it was . . . I don’t know which would be worse.”
“You’re trying to push me away, like you think I’m going to do to you.”
I blinked and didn’t answer. Damn him.
“It’s not going to work.”
“You say that, Cage, but I know better.”
“Yeah? You’ve had a lot of men defending you against that prick? Because from where I stand, I’m the only one who’s kept a promise . . . and I intend on keeping it the whole way.”
I swallowed, hard. “Did you kill Ned?”
“No. But I would’ve if he’d been there.”
No hesitation or guilt. Just simple, hard truth. And my simple, hard truth was that it would’ve been all right with me if Cage had killed Ned for his part in everything.
Chapter 22
After Rocco and Preacher left, I said good-bye to Tenn.
“I’ll come back anytime you need me to,” he said.
“Are you going back home tonight?”
“Nah. Gonna get in trouble with Tals and head back in the morning. Cage said he’d post my bail if I have a problem.”
“I never said that,” Cage called. Tenn gave me a hug and then left, and I closed the door and set the alarm. The night stretched out before me. I didn’t know what to do. I’d wanted to call my father to tell him, but I wanted to connect with Cage more.
“Hey.”
When I turned, he was standing by the locked door. “Hey.” I felt shy all of a sudden.
“I’ve got to show you something. Will you come with me?”
“Of course.” I followed him through the door, down the elevator and into the big garagelike space in what looked to the basement.
“I hadn’t been working in here,” he admitted. “Not until a few nights ago.”
This was his alibi.
Cage was an artist. Which explained the moody, brooding parts of him.
“Wait. All this . . . is yours?” I put my hand to my throat. Even though I wasn’t a motorcycle enthusiast, that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate what I saw laid out in front of me any less. Custom bikes finished to varying degrees, each piece painstakingly put together to create one-of-a-kind bikes.
My eyes were drawn to one old bike. It looked prewar and it appeared that the refurbishing process was just beginning. “This is your thing.”
Everything had been covered in blankets, which now lay scattered on the floor. I saw rows of paints, a half-assembled bike and a sketchbook. I put my hand on it, but didn’t open it. My gaze caught on a photograph on the wall, a beautiful, custom bike.
“You made this?”
“Yeah.” His eyes looked far away. “That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I enlisted. Before I decided to become a one-man show, taking down the Heathens single-handedly.” His gaze flickered up to the photograph and back down, as if it was too painful for him to look at.
My chest tightened watching him. “And now?”
“I want to. I just don’t know if I can, Calla. I know too much. I’ve seen too much. I’m not the same person anymore.”
He had to be lying—whether to me or to himself, it didn’t matter. “Are you worried?”
“When you do shit like this, you have to feel. And I don’t want to feel anymore because then—”
“Too late,” I told him. “If you already feel, this should be a breeze. Looks like it is too.”
The depth and breadth of his talent was apparent the more I investigated the shop. Since no one else was here, I assumed this was his baby and his alone.
“Does anyone help you?”
“Sometimes Tals will, for the complicated stuff I can’t fix alone.”
“Do just MC members buy these?”
“No. Before I went into the Army, rock stars and celebrities bought them. Figured it was time to pick it up again.”
I pulled myself up to sit on one of the tables so I could survey the place. He climbed up next to me.
“I told you that the Heathens surrounded me in that parking garage. I knew those men, Calla. I grew up with them.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My brother, Troy . . . He was the one who gave the orders to kill me.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Because, based on my family experiences, it wasn’t all that unbelievable. “So your brother joined the Heathens?”
“He was born into the Heathens MC. Just like I was.”
Calla’s mouth dropped open. He put a finger under her chin and gently pushed up.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just . . .”
“Fucked up?”
“That sums it up pretty well,” she agreed. “Is it bad there?”
“You have no idea, Calla.”
“So tell me.”
“You’re already too involved.
“In for a penny.”
“Why? Why would you want that?”
“You took on my burden.”
“Willingly. No strings.”
“Why?”
“Because.” He skimmed her cheek with his knuckles.
“Exactly.” She mirrored his actions. “I’m here, Cage. Not because I have to be. Stop trying to lock me out. As a wise man once told me, your walls went back up, but I’m already inside.”
It was only fair that she learned what she was getting into. He’d given her zero choice, and staying here wasn’t an option forever. Nothing lasted forever, but goddamn, he was going to try with the woman sitting across from him. “I couldn’t tell you before. For a lot of reasons.”
“I understand secrets, Cage.”
He ran a hand through his hair. It had started to grow out a little, not enough to make him feel completely like him yet, though. “My father’s the president of the Heathens. Troy’s my half brother. So is Eli, but he’s only fifteen.”
“Where’s your mom?”
“She died when I was twelve. So did one of my sisters.” He paused. “Heathens have been dealing in drugs for a long time. Meth especially. It’s cheap and easy to make and sell, addictive as anything. Heathens run it down the coast. They started when I was about seven or eight. It had never been paradise, because it was a violent MC, but once the meth came into play, it was never the same.”