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“The owner considers his employees to be under his protection, and he takes that responsibility very seriously.” She strummed her fingers against the top of her desk. “In fact, he could probably do something about your sister’s boyfriend if things get too bad at home before you’ve saved up enough to move out.”
Hope began to blossom in my chest, but the feeling had nothing to do with the supposed protection the company’s owner could provide. The odds of me complaining to him about the petty stuff my sister’s boyfriend liked to pull were basically zero. Not when I didn’t know the guy and depended on him for a paycheck…assuming I got the job in the first place. “Does that mean you’re hiring me?”
She nodded. “If you really want it, the job is yours.”
“I do.” I practically bounced in my seat with anticipation.
“When can you start?” she asked as she handed the stack of papers to me.
I glanced down and nearly groaned at all the forms I would need to fill out. But only my excitement at being hired could be heard in my tone when I offered, “Whenever you need me.”
“How about today?” She tapped on her keyboard and nodded. “One of the guys on the night shift called in sick again, and it’s a job we can’t put off. The building needs to be cleaned tonight.”
“Just tell me where and when, and I’ll be there,” I promised.
2
DASH
“You just had to use the Glock,” I muttered when I walked into the room.
Bear, one of my brothers in the Silver Saints MC, was leaning a shoulder against the wall on the opposite side of the room while talking with Doc, another brother.
They both turned to look at me, and Bear shrugged. “All I had on me. Besides, I thought you’d enjoy the challenge.”
I looked over at the dead body crumpled on the floor with a .45-inch hole in his head. The hollow point bullet was embedded in the wall behind him, which was splattered with blood, bone, and brains. It was all over the carpet behind him as well.
“This isn’t a challenge. It’s a fucking pain in the ass.”
Blood had a way of seeping into everything, even the concrete below the carpet. Cleaning it early helped, but we would have to take the time to draw it out of the pores in the floor to make sure no evidence of the murder remained.
Not that this sick fuck hadn’t deserved what he got. Word had reached us about some incidents with girls going missing and ties back to a couple of chat rooms. One of our enforcers owned a security company and was a world-class hacker. When he heard about this, he’d gone digging. Bear tracked him down after discovering this man’s involvement in a human smuggling ring. He lured the asshole to this mostly abandoned office building, and we’d intended to leave him with an anonymous tip to the authorities.
Apparently, he’d pissed Bear off enough to have his brains blown out. Which made one less depraved psycho in the world, and I called that a win.
But seriously, did he have to use ammunition that made such a fucking mess?
“Already called Mrs. Acker,” Doc informed me. “Ernest called in sick again, but she has an interview in ten minutes, so maybe we’ll get lucky, and they can start right away. Patch’s friend who owns the funeral home will dispose of this trash once it’s been burned to ashes. So, as long as the elite cleaners do their job first, the front line won’t know what happened here.”
Doc had been given his nickname because he was the MC’s “fixer”—not to be confused with the MC’s real medical professional, Patch (because he patched us up), who was also an enforcer. When he referred to my elite cleaners, he was talking about my employees who worked for the…darker side of the business. I’d been cleaning up the MC’s shit since I was a prospect. Eventually, I’d needed more help, and it seemed like the logical choice, so I started a company. Of course, I couldn’t exactly advertise to the world that we specialized in scrubbing crime scenes—although our reputation was well known in the right circles—so part of the business was a typical, run-of-the-mill industrial cleaning and janitorial service.
“Whoever takes the shift tonight will be here in a couple of hours. I’ll get a crew here to do the dirty work and take care of the body,” I told them as I pulled out my phone to text my assistant, Carrie, to call in the job. Doc took off to do the necessary paperwork and planting of evidence that kept the Silver Saints above suspicion for such things as executing scum.
Cash and our newest patch, Grey–formally known as Benji–were out for a ride, so they stopped by to offer their help. “By the way,” Cash said as he unfolded a body bag. “Girl who called us about this shit is the sheriff’s daughter. She overheard some students talking about it and decided this guy needed our brand of justice.”
Bear raised an eyebrow. “Ballsy. But how the fuck does she know what kind of justice we mete out? Or how to get in touch with us at all?”
“I’m guessing she’s overheard things she shouldn’t from the sheriff and snooped for a way to get in touch with us,” I mused as I put on a pair of latex gloves and rubber coverings for my shoes. “Someone should tell her to forget the Silver Saints, or we could end up on the sheriff’s shit list, and he’s been a good ally.”
“Agreed,” Bear grunted. “Don’t need a little girl interfering because she thinks she knows the MC life and wants to play on the other side of the tracks.”
Cash nodded as we walked over to the body and tossed Bear a grin. “You’re in charge of enemies and intel, Officer. Guess that means you get to have a talk with the kid.”
Bear rolled his eyes and began dismantling his weapon so we could clean it. “Fine. How hard can it be to scold a little girl and tell her to go back to her dolls instead of sticking her nose into things she shouldn’t?”
“Dude,” Grey interjected with a chuckle. “She’s a senior in high school, not an eight-year-old.”
Bear shrugged. “Same difference.”
