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CHAPTER THIRTY
*Kio “K.O.” - Enforcer*
Jess and Lace walk away holding hands like they are everything but the bunnies of some fucked up men. Or maybe like they are the bunnies of some fucked up men, leaning on each other because who the fuck else are they supposed to lean on?
Yin and yang, those two, though. Not just their personalities, but their looks, too — Lace with all her golden skin and white sandy hair, and Jess with her cool olive skin and dark hair.
My intentions with pulling Jess aside were twofold. One, because I want to be near her. I need to be, especially after what transpired while we were at her townhouse. My gut churned with an ominous energy before then, but now it is even worse. The Rolling Stones officers are nowhere to be seen, not even in the shadows, and that is incredibly unsettling.
And two: since Stoney owns her contract, I hoped that by walking with her publicly and stopping at a booth with her publicly, someone would make a move — a Stoner or maybe a nervous hangaround or antsy prospect would flinch.
Negative.
As for giving her a weapon, that part was impulsive, a desperate attempt at trying to sway the end result when everything comes to a head. Something big will go down, and just like with Lace, Jess being involved with a Stoner, prospect or not, means she is just as high risk.
While Jess peruses some custom leather clutches at the booth beside the knife vendor, I pull Lace aside. “I need you to ask her if Gabe has mentioned anything about what the Rolling Stones might be planning,” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth.
Lace looks up at me with her wide amber eyes. “Oh? You need me to spy for you? Using my best friend?”
I cross my arms and narrow a glare down my nose at her.
She gives me a smug grin. “You know my services come with a price, Kio. Not even Hell for Leather gets them for free. What do I get out of this?”
Not yet willing to cave and fall into bed with her like the others so easily do when she bats her long eyelashes, I simply refuse to give her anything. As the master of staring contests, I bore into her calculative gaze until she gives in. Works every time no matter who is my competitor.
With a sigh of defeat, Lace gives me a curt nod. I step back from her, finally feeling like I can drop my guard a little for the first time all day.
Lace walks up to Jess just as she is taking out her dirty money to purchase a nice detailed custom leather clutch with a gold chain, then zipping up the receipt inside it.
Ever since we got here for this rally, I feel like all the intuitive knowledge and spiritual progression I made over the last few years has regressed, and the only way to cure that is by ensuring nothing goes wrong with my plan from here forward.
Last time when my gut feelings sickeningly roiled, with all the drama surrounding Rachal, I assumed it was all just an overactive imagination.
Maybe Lace was right and giving Jess a weapon was stupid, but I never want to experience a regret like what I experienced with Rachal ever again. Regrets like those stick with you for life, slowly eating away at your soul.
With that step over, I need to stop letting fear and anxiety hold me back. The balance scales are changing, and the time has come to make bold moves with full trust that the Universe will support them.
Only a couple more minutes go by, and the two women are saying their goodbyes. With her big, sad eyes, Jess gives the bag with the newly purchased clutch inside it to Lace.
I have witnessed Lace receive plenty of gifts over the years, but none that made her go as soft and teary as this one. She and Jess share an unbreakable bond, unlike anything I have ever seen between two people. Sure they each have their own issues, their separate lives outside of Tit for Tat, but they are soul sisters through and through.
This division they are faced with between warring motorcycle clubs will snuff that flame eventually — not a matter of if, but when.
That makes what I have to do all that much harder. I truly do care about both of them, in different ways, and nothing good will come of what has to be done.
The two women do a little dance hug, both of them sniffling, then Jess walks backward slowly before turning around and disappearing through the crowd. Yet another endo run is up, and she has that commitment to fulfill.
Lace hands her gift bag to Zane, adding it to the dozens of others from today, then she comes toward me with a shrug. “All I got out of her was that they are definitely planning something, and that Gabe has been all over the place. Said she got in huge trouble for trying to ask. She got really tight-lipped real fast after that comment. I am sick with worry, Kio. I hate this; I hate feeling so powerless. How do you help someone like that?”
At this point, the best we can do is make impulsive moves, like what I pulled with the knife, and cross our fingers. Jess will stay with Gabe until he decides to boot her. Even after getting the boot, the next man who hooks her will be just as toxic. Women like Jess are unfortunately just wired that way.
I reach down and cup her face. “Hey, I will bring it up to Kal, okay? See if there is anything we can do.”
Prez and I need to talk about something close to the topic anyway. Soon.
Brushing that thought aside, I let Lace know that “I sent Vee a message earlier today asking him to keep an eye on Jess and to maybe give her some tips if he gets a chance to get near her. He set her up at the lane closest to him and has been keeping her talking all day. Not about anything useful, just keeping her calm, and now giving her some basics on knives.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
Our conversation is short and sweet, but when I am about to leave, unashamedly to go watch Jess, a rushed “K.O. wait!” stops me from disappearing again.
“Do you think they’re planning something to go down during the pageant tonight?” she murmurs, darting a few sharp glances around to make sure no one is nearby. “I mean, it would be a little too obvious, I think, since something already went down last night at the pageant. But I dunno, what if they are planning to use the event as a distraction while they are up to no good somewhere else?”
Lace has no idea just how right she is. They are definitely constituting tactical moves. One, the hit on her father, already played out. All I can do is slow nod and give her a roundabout warning: “You keep to your schedule, okay? No matter what. I will make sure no less than two of our men are looking out for you and Jess at all times.”
She nods and gives me a thankful smile, but her gaze lingers on mine, trying to read me a little too deeply.
Before she can pull anything from that single look, I turn away and blend with the crowd.
