Make You Mine by K.T. Quinn

28

Charlotte

There was something perfect about the quiet moment after sex. When the world was silent and both people were vulnerable. No clothes, no walls, no emotional facades put up to hide who you really were. Just two people, exhausted and spent, after savoring each other’s bodies.

I rested against Jayce and breathed deeply, inhaling his oil and smoke scent. It made me feel safe. A place I could rest my head and listen to the pounding of the rain outside without worrying about the troubles of the real world.

“Talk to me,” I said.

His hand moved up my back and into my hair, caressing as he went. “Peaches,” he said in his subtle drawl, “you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

Laying across his nude, warm body, I traced a finger along his ribs. Up his pec, around a nipple, and then back down another hard section of rib muscle.

“I don’t know. Tell me about the Copperheads.”

“That’s not the post-sex conversation I expected,” he said with a chuckle that vibrated up his chest and into mine.

“I’m curious. My mind is wandering.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice a deep whisper.

“How long were you with them?”

“Six months.”

“Why’d you join?”

“Because I was bored,” he replied.

“That’s it?” I asked incredulously.

“Wish I had a better reason, but that’s it.”

“You joined a drug-dealing biker gang out of boredom? There are a lot of other hobbies you could have tried first. Like tennis. Or playing Candy Crush on your phone.”

“I got laid off from my other job,” he went on, fingers caressing up and down my spine. “I was a welder at a factory outside of town. When it shut down, I didn’t have much else to do. Friends from work moved out of town. I was lonely, restless. So I joined up with some bikers to pass the time.”

“Was that before they were moving drugs?”

“Naw,” he said sadly. “They were doing it then, too. They were quiet about it since I was a newcomer, but lookin’ back on it, I think I chose not to see. Willful ignorance.”

A lot of men might’ve insisted they were totally innocent. Covered themselves with excuses and justifications. My respect for Jayce notched up another degree at his willingness to admit it.

“Why’d you quit?”

He shrugged awkwardly. “Sid was smart about things, at first. He was quiet and didn’t ruffle too many feathers. But over time, as he became more addicted to the shit he moves, he got more violent. Started carrying around that crowbar of his. Using it, whether he needed to or not.” He shivered. “Eventually it got to the point where I couldn’t stop pretending like I didn’t know what was going on. I couldn’t work for someone who was high twenty-four seven.”

“You said they move meth?”

I felt him nod. “It gets cooked inland, close to Atlanta, then transported to the coast. From there it goes up to the military bases in the Carolinas, and down to Florida. Sid’s crew is only responsible for moving it from Atlanta to Savannah. It’s easy work. Riding a motorcycle through the night and back.”

“Why doesn’t anyone stop them?”

Jayce’s laugh was bitter. “Who would? The sheriff and his deputy? Sid’s got fifty men in Eastland, but he controls closer to three hundred between here and the coast. If state police tried to take them out, it’d be a bloodbath. There’s not a police captain in the country who wants that on their hands, not without federal help. Better to ignore them and hope nobody gets hurt.”

The way he said the last part implied that people did get hurt. I could feel the ghost of his sister in every word he spoke. My heart ached for Jayce.

“You said they won’t do it without federal help,” I said carefully. “Why don’t they get that help, then? From the FBI or DEA or whoever?”

Jayce ran his fingers through my hair, which was nearly dry. “That’s the thing, Peaches. The Copperheads are too small. Three hundred bikers may seem like a lot, but it’s just small enough to avoid attracting the big agencies in Washington. They’re too busy worrying about cocaine and heroin flowing across the border with Mexico. They don’t have time for a few million worth of methamphetamines moving up and down I-95. Too much risk for too little reward.”

“That sucks,” I said.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Life sucks sometimes.”

The words hung in the air between us.

“I’m sorry about your sister,” I said, tackling the subject head-on. “About Theresa. I can’t imagine what you’ve dealt with.”

He was quiet, fingers gently massaging my scalp. I didn’t think he would respond, and I began to wonder if I should have brought it up at all.

“It’s revenge,” Jayce suddenly said.

“What?”

“A few days ago you asked why I don’t just ride out of town, get as far away from Eastland and Sid as I can. It’s because I want revenge.” He sighed with his whole body, like a muscular balloon deflating. “Sid’s careful. He keeps men around him at all times, and he doesn’t take risks. But deep down, part of me still hopes I can get revenge. A moment where he’s alone and he lets his guard down, when I can strike. When I can get even with him for what happened to Theresa. That’s why I’m still here, Peaches. Because as soon as I leave, that opportunity goes out the window. And I’m more afraid of missing that opportunity than I am of Sid killing me.”

I rolled over and rested my chin on his belly, looking up at his bearded face. “Have you had chances? Where you thought about… doing it?”

“I have,” he admitted, but said no more.

The look in his eyes, like a storm rolling in from the coast, told me everything I needed to know. Jayce would do whatever he could to make Sid pay. He was telling the truth: he cared about that more than his own life.

How can I be with someone who isn’t afraid to die?

I opened my mouth to tell him no, that he couldn’t do it, that he had to live for something. But the words died on my tongue. Any argument I thought up sounded too weak. Too petty compared to the death of his sister.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“Me too, Peaches.” He leaned down and kissed my hair, then rolled out of bed. “And now it’s time to get to work.”

I watched him walk across the room, a nude marble statue come to life, every nook and cranny of his body chiseled by an artist. The sight of him was enough to reignite my passions deep within my chest. I pulled the sheets over my own nude body and rested my head on my hand. “Work?”

“Fixing the Carl mess,” he said, retrieving his phone and staring at the screen. “It’s all your fault, you know.”

“My fault?” I said. I couldn’t tell if he was being serious, or joking.

He glanced over at me, stone-faced. “If you weren’t so sexy, Carl wouldn’t have tried to extort you.”

I grinned in spite of myself. “That just means he would’ve gone straight to Sid instead.”

Jayce raised his arms over his head, flexing his butt muscles as he stretched. The dimples in his hips caved, then flexed back out. “Yeah, but if you were ugly I wouldn’t have flirted so much with you, and then you wouldn’t have followed me to the cemetery. So we wouldn’t be in this mess at all.”

I made an offended sound and grabbed my shoe off the ground, then hurled it in his direction. It missed by several feet and bounced across the hardwood floors of the barn.

“But you are sexy,” he said, coming back to kiss me on the forehead. “So we have to deal with Carl now.”

“Sorry for being such an inconvenience.” I hesitated, then asked, “What are you going to do to him?” I didn’t want to know the answer, but I was compelled to ask.

“Send him on a trip.”

“Is that a euphemism? Like how my dog was sent to a farm upstate?”

Jayce smiled wolfishly at me, and shook his head. “It’s a literal trip, I promise.”

He walked around the room nude while talking on the phone, giving me a nice show while I relaxed in bed. The first phone call was about transporting a package down to Jacksonville. Then he called someone named Brick and asked about Copperhead movements tonight. He mentioned Carl’s name, asking if he was on the schedule. Then Jayce nodded with what looked like relief.

“Things are looking good so far,” he told me when he was done. He pulled his boxer-briefs on, then his jeans. While buckling his belt he added, “We may get out of this mess, Peaches.”

“Don’t jinx it!”

He put on his shirt, then went into the closet. I heard him rummaging around, and then he emerged with a duffel bag and a rain jacket.

I patted the bed. “You don’t have to leave so soon, do you? Come back to bed. I’m not done with you yet.”

“If we are gonna get out of this mess, I have to clean things up at Flop’s.”

I knew he was right, but I was having fun tempting him. I gave him a lusty look and said, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

A pained look came to his handsome face. “You’re killin’ me, Peaches.” He bent down to give me a long, passionate kiss. It went on so long that I thought he might stay, but then he finally pulled away.

“Hold down the fort while I’m gone.” He caressed my cheek with his thumb. “Don’t get into any trouble.”

“I promise only to snoop around a little bit.”

He gave me a warning glare, which turned into a silly grin, then went out into the stormy night.