"What's up with you?" Jared asked, dumping his helmet on the couch.
"The McDonald's up the road is closed for renovations. Couldn't get my morning breakfast fix." Enrico sounded so affronted that Jared actually worried for the owner. When Enrico wasn't happy, he did something about it. Usually with his fists.
"There's about ten McDonald's less than half an hour from us. Go get your damn breakfast, then come back and tell me what the fuck you're doing up so early."
"I don't want those McDonald’s; I want my McDonald's.” If Enrico hadn't been such a big, angry dude, Jared would’ve laughed at his petulance. But one didn't laugh at Enrico and come out of it unscathed.
"Fine, whatever, pout about it." Jared dropped into Vincent’s seat behind the desk. "What are you doing here? I assume you're here to see me?"
Though it was plenty early for Jared even, Jared was usually the first one in. Which meant if Enrico, who was usually the last one in, was arriving at the site early, it was to see the head of security.
Enrico didn't beat around the bush. "The Ghosts are riding again. Don't know how, don't know why, don't care. There's rumbling that they're gonna come after us: you, me and Vince in particular. The truce is a lie."
"How many?" Jared demanded.
He didn’t bother asking how his friend knew about the Ghosts. Enrico knew everything about everything. His ability to retain gossip was second only to a Kardashian. Jared kept the reference to himself for two reasons; he didn’t need an early morning brawl and he didn’t want to admit he knew who the Kardashians were.
"Don't know." Enrico stretched his arms out and cracked his knuckles, the ink across his hands proclaiming his biker heritage. Same as Jared. "About the size of an orgy. Maybe five or six."
Jared snorted. “Pretty small orgy. You need to get laid more often.”
Jared thought about it for a few minutes. There were several courses of action that could be taken. First though, he needed to know if the Ghosts were actually gunning for them or if they just wanted to peacefully rebuild their club.
"Put a few of our guys on them. Find out if they have a new clubhouse and where it is. If we have to take them out at the source, we will." A vision of Amy and her vulnerable family flashed through his mind. "Put some extra guys on Vincent’s and Jenna's place. Mine too. Make sure they're keeping an eye on the neighbour house, the white one with the flowerbed out front. I don’t want any collateral damage if those assholes come after me."
"What the fuck, man, a flower bed?" Enrico said with disgust. "You going soft?"
Jared bared his teeth in a feral grin and stretched his arms wide. "Anytime you want to come at me and find out, I'm game."
Amy had been looking forward to going over to Jared's all day. She spent the entire day, even the hours at work, contemplating what she was going to wear, what she was going to say, and how she was going to get her sisters to behave without embarrassing her.
She texted Teagan the dinner invite, but he didn't text back. Amy was disappointed but not surprised. Teagan had been growing progressively more difficult over the past few months, a development that worried her, but according to their social services worker wasn't uncommon. He’d experienced the same trauma as the rest of them but being older than the younger two made him more aware of what had happened. Rather than bonding with Amy, as she'd hoped he would, he was pulling away.
Amy did a little twirl in front of her mirror. Jared had seen her wearing sexy, her crop top and short shorts, he'd seen her wearing slutty, her teeny tiny bikini, now he was going to see her sweet and summery side. She chose a floaty turquoise dress with a halter neck and a pattern of cupcakes and teacups. She brushed her dark hair out until it was shiny and snapping, then gathered it at the back of her neck with a hair tie, allowing it to flow down between her shoulder blades in a tail.
Amy decided to go with light makeup. She was blessed with mostly flawless skin and didn't need foundation. She ran a light blue liquid shadow over her lids, added mascara and finished with a creamy nude lip gloss. Pressing her lips together, she stepped back and looked herself over critically. She had to admit she looked good, really good. But then, she put way more effort into her appearance for this date than she usually did. If that's what this was. With her sisters coming along, she wasn't exactly positive about the status of the evening.
She was about to call the girls and head over to Jared's when the phone rang. Though Amy mostly only used her cell phone, the family still had a house phone. This was for several reasons. When her mom had been killed, everything had been thrown into chaos. Family and friends of her parents had no way to get hold of the siblings unless they called the house. Gradually, over the years, Amy had been tracking everyone down and giving them her cell phone number.
The house phone was also the only way for Amy's father to get a hold of them. She'd refused to give him either Teagan's or her phone numbers.
Amy's arms prickled with anxiety. She knew exactly who was on the other end of the line. She picked up the phone and looked at the display. The prison. She pressed the green button. Even as her father's deep voice hurtled down the line at her, slapping her in the face, she regretted answering. Yet, for some reason, she always did. As though he still had a hold on her.
"Amy, sweetheart, I need money. About $100 should do it. Gotta buy some cigarettes for some of the guys in here. Can you still get to a bank tonight?"
Amy shook her head and sighed. Well, there had to be some comfort to be found in a person who just wouldn't change. Her father only ever called for money. Sometimes he called to ask for a visit, when he needed them to bring him something that they couldn't mail or email to him. Though Amy always felt the compulsion to obey, leftover from a childhood spent under the thumb of their abusive father, she'd never gone to visit, nor had she allowed her siblings to go.
"I don't have $100. I can maybe spare $20, but that's all."
Predictably, he exploded at her words. "Where the fuck is all the money from social services going? You get paid to keep those kids, right? Well the kids are mine, and the money should be mine too."
Amy refused to dignify his vitriol with any kind of response. She liked to think that his words were just words, that he didn't mean them. Unfortunately, she knew otherwise. She couldn't imagine how a man like this had managed to father her, her two adorable sisters and her intelligent brother.
"I don't care how you do it, you find the money. Steal it if you have to. You're a pretty girl, get your boyfriend to give you some. You got one of those right?" Amy heard something in the background, a sharp comment.
It took her a moment, but she realized it was one of the guards, telling her father to calm down and quit yelling. Despite prison guards often getting a bad rap, Amy was impressed with the ones responsible for her father's care. They were always polite to her when she had to call, and, occasionally, some of them even tried to step in and protect her when her father became unruly.
"I don't have a boyfriend," Amy said, her voice weary. "I'll see what I can do about the money. I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try."