Thursday

June 8th

Lindsey opened her auto door, an almost new model electric blue convertible that she was thinking about ‘persuading’ daddy to trade in for the newer version, and took off her sunglasses. Quinn wasn’t answering his phone and she’d had to track him down in the middle of lower income suburbia hell via the phonebook.

And the reason why she remembered where he was, was because he wouldn’t shut up talking about the latest ‘Club’ project that took away from his ‘real’ job at the construction company. She’d double-parked right in front of the driveway, but she was going to be here a few minutes if she had anything to say about it.

She stalked up the driveway, her eyes on the lookout for any debris. The roof was coming off, and one never knew. She wasn’t stepping on a nail and ruining her two hundred dollar shoes.

Quinn popped up right in front of her. She yelped and jumped back.

He grinned and caught her arms. “Sorry, Lins,” he muttered.

She glared at him and huffed. “Don’t do that.”

He reached up and brushed his fingers through her short, straight brown hair, cut along her jaw line the way she liked it. “I didn’t mean to,” he said.

She jerked her head away from his fingers and glowered at him. “You’re dirty, Quinn.”

He let her go. “A little,” he said, looked down, and brushed wood and roof chips off his shirt. The shirt was drenched in sweat and clung to his chest.

He shrugged and grinned at her, leaned forward and kissed on the lips without touching her. “Hey,” he said. He inhaled slightly, hoping she wouldn’t notice. The scent that bugged him was getting stronger. She was definitely pregnant.

She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. “Listen Quinn,” she said and started going on about something Quinn didn’t care about.

He listened with half an ear and inside the house he heard Clarence start crying. His brow furrowed and he glanced over his shoulder but nodded in the right places while Lindsey chattered. It was something about a charity fundraiser by the local bigwigs and how important it was that she be there and it was going to cut into something or other and Quinn blinked.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s fine.” He had Club events she didn’t go to, and he figured this was pretty much the same thing.

Lindsey relaxed. “I knew I could count on you to understand,” she said with a smile. “Though it’d be easier if you’d answer your phone.”

“I left it with the bike.” Quinn shrugged a shoulder. He half smiled. “And this way I get to see you,” he said.

She sighed and rolled her eyes again.

Quinn leaned forward and kissed her gently, letting it linger. “I love you,” he said.

Lindsey smiled at him, turned away, and went to her auto. She opened the door, got in, put her sunglasses back on and waved to him before pulling away. Quinn waved back.

“Quinn, would you?” Clara said, opening the door. She held out Clarence who was still crying. Quinn took a step forward and grabbed him.

“Sure. Hey little guy,” he said. “What’s all the fussing about?”

Clarence stopped crying and stared at Quinn wide eyed. He reached out and grabbed for his goatee. Quinn let him grab it and then when the baby let go, he went after his fingers with his lips. “Mine,” he said and faked nibbling using his lips.

The baby waved his hands around and looked like he was about to cry more.

Quinn started bouncing him. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said. He checked the diaper. “You’re dry. Are you hungry? Let’s listen.” He lifted the baby up to put his belly to his ear. “No rumblies,” he said and then blew a raspberry into the baby’s tummy.

The baby stopped crying and looked a little shocked. Quinn did it again. The baby started to laugh. Quinn looked up. “Maybe you are missing Daddy,” he said. “Mommy’s here though. She loves you too. Mommy is where the food is,” Quinn reminded the baby. He turned around and opened the door to the house.

He stepped inside and looked around for Clara. She came out of the bathroom and Quinn looked at the baby. “See, there she is.”

Clara reached her hands out for the baby. The sun glinted off her engagement ring. “Had enough already?” she asked.

Quinn whisked the baby away. “No. He wanted to see you.” He looked at the baby. “See, there’s Mommy. She didn’t disappear.”

Clara giggled. “Give me my baby,” she said.

Quinn grinned at her. “No. My turn to play.” He dodged away from her and kept a hold of the baby.

“But he wants me!”

Quinn looked at the baby. “Do you want Mommy? We can have a grand old time, you and Uncle Quinn.”

“You are not his Uncle Quinn,” Clara said with a fake scowl and darted after him.

Quinn laughed and bounced away. He turned and stopped in the middle of the living room as another thought hit him. This is what he wanted. This is what he needed. He needed to ask Lindsey to marry him. He needed to buy a house. Where they could have a home and fight over holding the baby. Clara took the advantage of his lull to wrap her hands around the baby. She paused and frowned at the look on his face.

“Quinn?” she asked. The game had been a bit too easy.

He shook his head rapidly. “I’m all right,” he sighed. “You win.” He kissed the baby on the nose. “I better go back to work.” He let the baby go.

Clara took him back, picking him up towards her chest. “Wave bye-bye.”

“Not bye-bye!” Quinn’s eyes widened. “Later!”

“Naptime,” she said.

“Exactly, later. See, that’s why you are all upset, naptime.” Quinn tickled the baby under the chin. “Your eyes are getting all heavy,” he said, grinned at Clara, and headed towards the door. “We’ll play later,” he promised and headed out the door. He needed the practice and who wouldn’t want to play with the baby?

Clara rolled her eyes and turned around. “I’ll read you a story and then it’s nap time,” she told the baby and headed towards his nursery. “That is if they can keep quiet enough for you to nap,” she said with a sigh. She set the baby into his crib. He wiggled around and got comfortable.

Clara smiled.

---

Savannah fished the key to Gideon’s apartment out of her kutte. She hoped he was still home. She bit the inside of her lip. She’d thrown him off the roof an hour after lunch to get to the club, get practice in since he wasn’t doing it in the evenings. (She was going to have to talk to him about that.) And Hunter would probably snatch him to help her out with the weapon’s locker.

Savannah didn’t mind that at all. It would keep him out of her hair for a little bit. She still had to make her donation for potlatch. However, one of the other prospects that Ashley had assigned guard duty had called.

The Rebels were in town.

The Rebels, more commonly called the Rabble by the Club, were a gang out of Rapid City and all major cities East. They weren’t a big gang as far as gangs went. They had enough presence to be a pain in the ass. Their main source of money was drug dealing. And drugs, and thus the Rebels, weren’t welcome in Jasper. And they knew that, they knew every vehicle that the Club owned. And she wanted to know what they were up to without them retreating on her.

She shoved the key into Gideon’s door as she came up to it. Gideon’s auto was in the parking lot. He should be here. She twisted the key, opened the door and walked in.

Gideon walked out of his bathroom, again, and stopped.

Naked.

Oh paramecium, Savannah swore internally. She flushed. Why in the world did he have to be sexy?

He stared at her with a raised eyebrow and sighed.

She kept her composure by the edges of her fingernails. Nude. He was nude, not naked. It was like that art class she’d taken Violet to. Nude was art. Naked was, something else entirely. She didn’t want to think the word sex at the moment. She raised her chin. “You have an auto, right?”

Gideon looked down, turned partially around, and reached for a towel. “Yeah,” he said. She knew that. She’d seen it. She’d been there when he got the plates.

Savannah saw black and her eyebrows rose. The Prospect had a tattoo on his butt. She stared at it and tried to figure out what it was, an anchor maybe, a tree, and a wolf paw print? It helped keep her mind off the fact he was naked.

She blinked. That seemed like an odd place to put a tattoo when it was the sole tattoo, but she had a moonflower in about the same spot on the opposite side of her body. Gideon wrapped the towel about his waist and Savannah pouted for a second. She shook it off quickly. “Good. You’re driving.”

Gideon turned back to her tucking the towel in tight. “I am?”

She smiled at him, reached up, and found the keys. “I’ll go get it started,” she said and walked out.

He stared after her. “But what about practice?” he said. He didn’t get an answer.

She was already gone.

He looked up at the ceiling. “Patience,” he said. “Give me patience.” He closed his eyes.

She’d flushed, again. He wasn’t sure what it meant since otherwise she didn’t react at all. He hadn’t really met a girl who didn’t react to a guy walking around naked. And this was his home. He should be able to walk around naked if he wanted. And he hadn’t asked Beda about the key again. Damn it.

He went and got dressed.

---

Gideon opened his auto door and got in the driver’s seat. Savannah was already seated in the passenger seat, slumped down. He shut the door and looked at her.

“Drive,” she said and waved a hand.

“Does it matter which way I go?” he asked.

“Head in the downtown direction,” Savannah said. “I’ll let you know.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes and looked out the windshield. She was being awfully mysterious about this. He put the auto into gear, backed out, turned it around, and drove out of the parking lot. He turned towards downtown.

Savannah watched out the front window and frowned a little. What were the Rebels doing in Jasper? They hadn’t made a real effort to infiltrate the town since the last time they’d been thrown out, which had been less than a year ago. They couldn’t be stupid as to be testing the waters already. Or did they think that the Heathens had short memories?

Her eyes caught movement. On the dash between the driver’s seat and the passenger’s seat was a bobble head doll, an old-fashioned Hollywood style werewolf. It was kitschy and a bit tacky but cute all at the same time. Savannah watched the head go up and down. She began to grin. She leaned forward, grabbed it, and examined it, turning it over and touching the head to make it bobble. The prospect had personality underneath that military spit and polish.

Gideon saw her reach and glanced over. He winced. He’d forgotten about his ornament. It was one of those things he’d picked up as a joke. Not that he expected anyone to get it.

“It’s cute,” Savannah said and touched the head again.

He sighed, reached over, took it out of her hand, opened the glove compartment, and stuck the toy in it.

Savannah pouted. When he sat back up, she opened the glove compartment, and put it back where it belonged on the dash, fussing to get the placement right. “I said it’s cute. I like it,” she said and used her index finger to get the head to bob.

Gideon opened his mouth.

Savannah rolled her eyes, reached inside her kutte, and slapped a weapon’s cuff on his right wrist. His sunglasses automatically expanded over his face from his computer and his jaw snapped shut.

“I’m not being seen with you unarmed,” she said. She’d been meaning to give it to him for a few days now. It wasn’t out of her arsenal. She’d pulled the weapons out of the club stock, and she’d gotten a variety because she didn’t know what he liked and signed them all out in her name. It was a loan.

She hoped she wouldn’t have to prod him too much into getting his own. The weapons cuffs were expensive, but worth it, and with the holographic weapons and the option for laser tag, really, really fun.

He stared at the arsenal in the bracelet. He normally didn’t carry much. Sure, during that holographic simulation of Brand’s he’d had something similar, mostly of bigger guns though, these were mostly handguns. He gaped at it. Were they going to war? Her comment registered. Did Savannah equate being armed with being dressed? “It’s like I was naked or something.”

Savannah stretched. “Prospect, you were naked not less than ten minutes ago,” she observed.

Gideon wanted to roll his eyes. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

“Cute tattoo.”

“I didn’t get it because it was cute,” he muttered.

Savannah looked around. “Interesting placement. Usually they start on the arms. Take a left at the next intersection.”

Gideon glanced over at her. She didn’t know his mother. His mother would have a fit if he got a visible tattoo. He was lucky she hadn’t seen the tattoo where it was now. Or else, like the smoking, she would have demanded it gone from her life. And he’d gone through enough pain to get it. He wasn’t going through the pain of getting rid of it.

And there were tattoos he wanted on his arms. He hadn’t wanted to get in an argument with his mother over them, and there were all these rules and regs in the military about them to begin with. “You would know. You have enough of them,” he pointed out.

“Right.”

He looked over at her.

She sighed. “Go right, Prospect.”

“Oh.”

“It’s like saying go west young man,” she grumbled. And her tattoos had meaning, not that she was willing to share that.

“You can do this in cardinal directions if you want.”

She glowered at him. “Find a place and park it,” she said.

Gideon chose the nearest space and did. He went to shut it off.

“Don’t,” she said and reached over and put a hand on his wrist.

“What are we doing?”

“You are driving.” Savannah said, her eyes out the windows and on the auto that the prospect said belonged to the Rebels. Right now it was empty.

They had to be in the coffee shop. Shit. She couldn’t flush them out. She didn’t drink coffee and it was a well-known fact she didn’t. She didn’t go to coffee shops in the summer. The game would be over if she went in there. And the Rebels would know the Club had guards up. Then they’d want to know why. They’d try to get into town more.

Her eyes narrowed. “Otherwise…” She paused. She pressed her lips together. Should she call Josiah on this or not? She thought about it. No. She decided. She’d wait and see if they were being nosy or if they were looking for a place to deal. She placed another call instead. “Eb, I need you to come down to Black and Gold Coffee and get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m busy.”

“I don’t really care,” Savannah said. “You aren’t having sex at one thirty in the afternoon. Just come down and get the be-damned cup of coffee and stop being argumentative for the sake of being argumentative. Is there something in the air?”

“Prospect giving you a hard time?”

“It’s the other way around. Now, Eb.”

“I’m on my way.”

Savannah shut the phone off and tapped her nails on the door handle. She didn’t know why Eberron was complaining. He liked to flirt with the Black and Gold Coffee baristas. The Rebels wouldn’t dare enter Plains Thunder Coffee, not when there were always at least two motorcycles parked out front and old timer Heathens sitting inside shooting the breeze. They had to come across town to this artsy, overpriced, as close to chain store syrupy coffee one could get that catered to the college crowd, place.

Oh, Savannah was giving him a hard time. Gideon could deal with that, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t give her one in return. “No, really, what are we doing?”

“You are driving. We aren’t doing anything. Be quiet.”

He slumped in his seat and pretended to be sulky. “But I’m not driving, and I like coffee too.”

Savannah lowered her eyelashes. The boys were pouting. This is what they signed up for. She needed Gideon as an ace in the hole. If the Rebels found out he were here, there would go the element of surprise. She reached into her kutte and pulled out the remaining lollipops from yesterday. She looked between the flavors and tossed a root beer one into his lap.

Gideon grinned.

She stared at him. He was doing it again. “My God, do you practice?”

“Being this good comes naturally,” he said, picked up the lollipop, and started unwrapping it.

She reached over and jerked it from his fingers.

“Hey!” He reached over and grabbed it back. Before she could do anything, he popped it into his mouth.

She eyed him. “You really think your spit is going to stop me from taking it back if I want to?”

“My lollipop.”

“She who giveth can taketh away,” she said and then stiffened. Eberron had entered the coffee shop. She gave it less than five minutes before the Rebels cleared out. Eberron didn’t like Rabble thugs harassing his favorite baristas. In fact, Eberron got downright twitchy about it. It interfered with his flirting.

Gideon tensed a little and tried to remain relaxed. She was up to something.

The Rebels walked out of the coffee shop and got into their auto. Savannah’s eyes narrowed. They were Rebels all right, loud and proud with prominent gang tattoos. Shit. The prospect on guard duty had been right. She’d have to congratulate him on the accuracy of his eyes.

She saw Eberron stand in the window with his arms crossed watching them leave. As long as he didn’t alert them to her presence, fine. Eberron could watch.

The auto pulled out into traffic. Good, the prospect wouldn’t have to make a U turn to keep up with them. Savannah waited. “Okay, pull out.”

Gideon put the auto into gear and pulled back into traffic. “You really want to tell me what we’re doing?” he asked quietly around the lollipop.

“No. I don’t. If I did, I would have told you already,” she said. He was going to get fussy about it if she said something. She didn’t need him getting manly, overprotective, and high handed and that would be about the auto, much less what she was planning to do.

She paused and shrugged out of her kutte and put it in the back seat. “Take it off, Prospect,” she murmured. She didn’t want them caught for something simple. They were a few autos back. They could still be seen.

Gideon looked over at her. “What?”

“Take your kutte off, your shirt too if you want,” she said with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes and took his kutte off while driving one handed. He wasn’t taking off his shirt. He’d given her enough of an eyeful already today.

“Right up here,” she said and her brow furrowed. This was towards a better neighborhood. What were they up to?

Gideon put his kutte in the back seat with hers.

She kept giving him directions. They followed the Rebels around the good section of town and then crossed in that two block way some places had into a bad section. Savannah wanted to swear. The Rebels drove around a bit and found a good spot to pull over, slightly concealed, out of the way of traffic, a good spot to deal drugs. Savannah let Gideon pass them, making sure she was slouched down in the seat.

“Go up two blocks, turn left, go one block, turn left again, go four blocks, turn left again and go two blocks, turn left and park it,” Savannah said. She tapped her computer to bring up her sunglasses. She ran through her own arsenal.

Gideon glanced over at her. “And we’re back to where we started.”

“That’s the idea.”

Gideon did as she told him. At the last turn, Savannah opened the door to the auto and got out. Gideon leaned over. “Where are you going?”

“Down the street. Wait a minute before turning and parking. I don’t care what you see, Prospect. Stay in the auto. If a fight breaks out, fine, be heroic and manly. Otherwise, stay in the auto.” Savannah shut the door. Damn it. She needed to talk to Brand about getting a few vehicles that the other gangs didn’t know about for tailing people.

Gideon watched her go and gritted his teeth. Damn it. Those were not useful directions. He needed information and she was being annoying again. Did she have something against heroic and manly? She had said those words like curse words. He felt something deep inside him go on alert. He turned the corner and parked the auto. He’d watch.

She adjusted her kutte and walked down the street. A few autos behind where the Rebel’s had parked, she cut out into the street and walked alongside the parked autos. She came upon theirs and trailed her fingers along the paint before turning and stopping by the window.

The boy inside turned his head to look at her and swore.

She smiled at him and put the base of her arms on the edge of the window. They could see her hands and her weapons cuffs. “Welcome to Jasper. You boys look a little lost,” she said. “Business or pleasure?”

“None of your business,” the one said. He sat in the passenger’s seat. Savannah decided to tag him Passenger for clarity in her head.

Savannah narrowed her eyes and looked the driver in the eye. “You should teach your boys manners,” she said conversationally. “And answer my question or I might choose to take your refusal as an indication that you’re guilty of wanting to deal drugs on Heathens’ territory and take exception to your fine selves and shoot you all and let the Police sort the rest out.” She paused. “I’d hate to be the man making the calls home to your mamas over a preventable idiocy.”

The driver’s eyes narrowed back. “You talk big for a—”

Savannah held up a hand. “Careful,” she said softly. “It’s a fine June day and I’d hate to mar it with a triple homicide.”

“You wouldn’t—”

“Shut up,” said the guy in the back. “Shut up both of you.”

“At last, the leader speaks.” Savannah leaned back to look at him through the rolled up window. “Well?” she asked and tagged the guy, Back Seat.

“Yeah, we’re here on business. Which is like my boy said, none of your business,” Back Seat said.

“You sound like you’ve been around longer than these two,” Savannah said. “You know the rules. Heathens rule Jasper and you aren’t allowed to deal here.”

Passenger bristled. “Why not? All these prime—”

“Shut up,” said Back Seat again.

“I think right now it’d be in your best interest to leave and head back where you came from,” Savannah said. “Before someone gets the wrong idea.”

Back Seat leaned forward. “And if I don’t.”

Savannah smiled at him. “Then someone might be making some phone calls.” She slapped her hands on the window edge. “Have a nice day.” She backed away and walked away.

“Should shoot your ass,” the driver muttered.

Savannah turned and raised an eyebrow at him. She wiggled her butt and slapped it, blew him a kiss before waving good-bye and strutting down the road. She ducked in between the autos again and walked past Gideon where he’d parked and turned the corner. Once there, she ducked down and walked back at a crouch to the auto. Gideon had opened the windows. Instead of opening the door, she levered her body in feet first.

He stared at her. “What in hell—?”

Savannah watched down the street. The auto pulled after a few minutes. The boys must have had to have a short argument first. She hoped the guy in the back was sensible or had the biggest gun. She waited until they turned a corner. “All right, pull out slowly.”

“I’m not playing this game,” he said. He wanted information and he wanted it now.

“Prospect,” she snapped. “Do it or I’ll drive and you can walk.”

Gideon gritted his teeth and pulled out into the street. He needed information and she was keeping it from him. He didn’t know what to do or what decision would be the right one if things went badly. Did she not trust him?

Savannah slumped back into the seat. She told him where to turn. There were three main drags out of Jasper, not that two of them looked like main drags. She’d wait to make sure they were on the way to one of them before calling for an escort and ‘encouraging’ them to get out of town limits.

Gideon kept looking over at her. He wanted her to say something. Who were these people? Why were they following them? How was this important? And why wouldn’t she say anything?

Savannah pressed her lips together and finally satisfied they were leaving town, called in their location. A few minutes later, four motorcycles with Heathens on them split around Gideon’s auto and formed up around the Rebel’s.

Savannah looked over at him. “Turn right,” she said.

Gideon turned right.

She gave him directions back to his apartment. She needed to pick up her motorcycle.

He followed them in silence, as Savannah progressively went from simmering to a boil. She’d been aggravated when he’d gotten into the auto he realized. He still needed her to talk to him. He pulled into the apartment building and threw the auto into park. He looked over at her.

She opened the door and almost slammed it shut. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t mad at the prospect. Stupid gang bangers, confronting them brought up bad memories of every other time she had to confront them and had someone tag along.

Gideon got out and put his arms on the roof. “Talk to me,” he said. “What happened?” He worked to keep his anger under control.

“Something you signed up for,” she said.

“God damn it, Savannah. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re doing!” he shouted and ran a hand through his hair. What in hell was going on? He didn’t know he’d signed up for tailing people. The going to Africa and rescuing a doctor had been one thing, this was something else. He didn’t know what and he didn’t like it.

“Who said I needed your help?” she shouted back. “You did as you were told,” she continued. “That’s all I needed.”

Gideon gritted his teeth. “We spent over an hour tailing the same auto. You’re the one who is supposed to be my sponsor and telling me shit.”

“I don’t need you to get overprotective and idiotic over me doing my job,” she spat at him.

Gideon gaped at her. She was spouting nonsense. She’d said something about heroic and manly earlier. Was this along the same lines? “I wasn’t—I never said anything like that! All I want to know is what is going on so I can back you up properly. I can’t make a fast judgment call without information.”

He hadn’t said that. He hadn’t done anything like that yet, and after seeing her handle herself in Africa, he wouldn’t. Sure, he’d had misgivings when he’d gotten a hold of her wrist. It was like she wasn’t mad at him. She was mad at a hundred other things and he was getting to be the target of her rage.

She shut her eyes and pressed her lips together. Her hand clenched and his eyes widened as a handgun appeared. She turned on her heel and let her hand relax. The gun disappeared. “Go shoot targets, Prospect,” she said in a bitter tone of voice. “You need the practice.” She turned the motorcycle on and backed up and was out of the parking lot before her helmet had time to fully form over her head.

Gideon ducked his head and sighed. “Shit,” he muttered. “Shit. Shit.” He put his hands on the back of his head and banged his forehead against the roof of the auto. He didn’t think he’d screwed up, but someone sure had and he was getting the brunt of it.

He needed more information, like, what was precisely Savannah’s job in the club. And why were they tailing people? If he wasn’t going to get it out of Savannah, he was going to have to find someone else willing to talk.