Shelter (Red Rebels MC Book 5) Page 6

  One man that worked for one of her clients had asked if she did houses, and she did but found offices to be much easier. But every second weekend she’d clean his condo, which was a brand-new townhouse that cost more than everything she owned put together. She thought he might be a lawyer, but he worked for a small investment firm. So, she could be wrong on that count, but at least he was usually gone when she cleaned. She hoped that would hold true today, too.

  The first stop was a place that sold distilled water. It always felt humid in that little space. Their little showroom was cute, only showing off the latest dispensers, and the high reception desk doubled as the cashier’s till.

  She got Annie set up at the reception desk with her first homework task, then set about dusting the water dispensers and the trim work around the windows and doors. Then she tidied up the break room, cleaned the bathrooms, mopped the back area where the water bottles were filled, and finally vacuumed the entire front space. All the garbage she tossed in the large dumpster in the back alley. Before leaving she put one of the five resignation notes she’d printed off and brought along on the manager’s desk. Then next it was the investment firm.

  The whole day Annie entertained herself. She had an iPod loaded with tunes and by the time Danielle was done the third office her homework was all done. So, it was coloring and reading for the two remaining office spaces, then onto the bachelor’s condo.

  There were two cars out front. With a curse, Danielle put the car in park.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  “Nothing, honey. Usually this guy isn’t here, that’s all.” This was one of the people she’d never mentioned Annie to. For all she knew, he didn’t even know she had a daughter. “Is it okay if you wait outside for this one? Looks like he has company over anyway. Maybe he forgot I was coming.”

  “Sure. I can read. Can I roll down the window?”

  Danielle chuckled and undid her seatbelt. “Of course, honey. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Danielle rang the doorbell, feeling strange doing so since she had a key. When her client answered, she had the resignation letter ready.

  “Hi,” she greeted him, noting that he was wearing dark Dockers with a polo shirt, open at the throat. Ty was his name; it came to her then. He looked like a Ty.

  “Oh shit,” he said, head going back. “I forgot, the maid!”

  Danielle kept her smile, even though it was difficult. “I see you have company. I won’t stay. But I wanted to drop this off.” She held out the folded letter. “I was offered a position in Markham, and I won’t be cleaning anymore.”

  He took the letter and as he let go of the door handle she noticed the bottle of beer in his hand. He opened the letter, but he’d been nodding as she spoke. “Oh, okay. Well, good for you. That’s good.”

  “Thanks. So, I won’t bother you today. I can see you’re busy.”

  “Who is it?” a voice bellowed from inside, and another man, same age, and build, dressed the same way, stumbled into the hallway behind Ty. He was also holding a beer bottle.

  “I forgot this was the weekend for my cleaning lady,” Ty mumbled, reading her letter then folding it again.

  “Cleaning lady? Yeah right. You hired me a stripper!”

  Danielle’s back straightened at that, and Ty laughed, shaking his head. “No man, she’s my cleaning lady.”

  This man was considerably drunk, hanging over Ty’s shoulder, looking her up and down. “Man, I hope you got the discount.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Duke.” He shrugged his friend off and gave her an apologetic smile. “I know we’re not usually here, but my friends are pigs. We’re leaving in a few minutes to get this prick to his tee time. It’s his stag. Can you just tidy up when we go? I’ll pay double the rate. I know it’s not usually this much of a mess.”

  She sighed, but the double pay did sound good. She could clear some of the Christmas credit card charges, which would be great.

  “Okay. I’ll wait outside until you’re gone—”

  “No, no, like I said. We’re just about to leave. You want me to help you bring your stuff in?”

  She shook her head. “No, that’s fine. I got it. And thank you.”

  His smile was genuine. “No problem. And really, good for you on getting that job, whatever it is. That’s awesome.”

  Danielle had to smile. For all his frat boy appearance and attitude, he seemed to be a decent guy.

  “What’s your name?” Duke asked, still leering as he belched.

  She ignored him and went to get her supplies out of the Escape. She was definitely leaving Annie out here until those guys left.

  Her buckets held the rags and bottles of cleaners, so she just had two mop buckets to carry, her supplies stowed away inside. When she returned to the house both men were out of sight, so she started in the kitchen. Definitely a bachelor set up. The gorgeous granite countertops were littered with pizza boxes and beer bottles. She put the bottles in their boxes next to the recycling, threw away all the caps, and shoved the pizza boxes into a large black plastic garbage bag. As she opened the dishwasher to place a few utensils inside she realized it was full and it stunk. So, time to run that machine. Most definitely.

  As the turned to the sink, mostly the cupboard underneath where all the dish soap was, a form moved in front of her and she gave a short gasp, startled. When she’d noticed it was this Duke character her guard went up. “You surprised me,” she muttered, almost like an accusation, and walked around him to get the detergent pod from its plastic container.

  “How old are you?”

  She rolled her eyes and ignored the question, wondering where Ty had gotten to. She started the dishwasher then turned for the sink, but the asshole was stepping in her way again.

  “Dude, look,” she said, exasperated. She was just trying to get clear of these damn cleaning jobs. “Just let me work. I hope you enjoy your golf today.”

  “I didn’t know Ty had a maid.”

  “He doesn’t,” she assured him. “Once every other weekend I clean this place up. He’s usually not here.”

  “He doesn’t ask you to wear the little outfit?”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  “I mean, you’re old but...you still got something going on here.”

  The kitchen can wait, she decided, and turned for her bucket with the bathroom cleaning solutions. At least she could lock herself in—

  His hand clamped on her arm hard. It hurt, likely enough to cause a bruise. Danielle was not accustomed to being man handled. She’d had Grace when she was eighteen, and had never gone in for barrooms or clubs. She had a baby at home. To some, this kind of treatment might have been nothing, especially in a bar where people had maybe consumed a bit too much and had gone out looking for just one thing.

  Unwanted attention from men had never been a problem for her. They ignored her, left her to herself. She liked to tell herself that it wasn’t because she was unattractive, just that she gave off the aura of a woman to be taken seriously. Men who weren’t serious didn’t count her in their hunting patterns.

  This lug, grabbing her arm in a bright, white and black, sunny kitchen, was enough to make her heart pound. Not in a good way. In the way that made her wonder if she was about to find trouble.

  She pulled her arm, trying to rotate it out of his grasp, but he tightened his grasp. She whimpered, finally looking at him.

  The expression on his face wasn’t easy to read. He was obviously drunk, and she upped her estimate of his intoxication from buzzed to shlammered. He even swayed on his feet.

  “Where’s Ty?” It was all she could think to ask.

  He grinned, unevenly, blinking too slow to be normal. “Upstairs. Why? I’m not enough? Not my usual gig but I could make an exception if you want us to double up.”

  She couldn’t even comprehend what he was asking. Her heart was battering away at her sternum like a trapped animal. He hadn’t outright threatened her, but he wouldn�
�t let her fucking go. She didn’t like that.

  “Let me go,” she said, trying to sound strong. Failing miserably.

  With an unsteady swagger, he stepped more into her space, backing her up so the edge of the kitchen island’s counter dug into her lower back uncomfortably.

  “Don’t,” she whimpered, pushing at him with her free arm. Which he also grabbed, forcing it behind her back. Which meant he was holding her, tightly, and he rubbed himself against her.

  “See?” he muttered, eyes falling shut. “Big tip in it for you, honey. Pun intended.” Then he was laughing and his hold loosened. She took her chance.

  There was a two-week, four-session women’s self-defense class she’d taken shortly after her divorce. It just made her feel more like she could handle herself. The arm he’d first grabbed came free easily, and it allowed her twist away to the side, hitting her hip against the granite but she ignored that for now. While he was stunned and wondering what happened, she yanked her other arm free and used it to deliver a sharp elbow to his ribs.

  “What—ow! Fucking bitch!”

  She ran for the living room. The snarl in his voice made her blood pound harder and faster in her ears. Before he’d maybe thought he was charming. Now he was mad at her.

  And he caught her by the waist, one arm like a steel band as it looped around her stomach. Because of it she lost her feet, actually saw them fly up in front of her. She thought she was headed for a body slam, she really did. She screamed, and he covered her mouth. “Not yet,” he growled. “No screaming yet, sweetie.”

  She scratched, clawed at his hands and forearms. “Let me go,” she was chanting, and she could hear the tears in it. Was she crying? She hadn’t noticed she was crying.

  She was thrown back into the kitchen. Stumbling over the mop bucket she lost her feet and fell backwards. With a horrible sound, her skull hit the tile and she saw stars—gold, red, and pink—dancing around the light on the ceiling that was spilling in through the huge windows by the eat-in kitchen. For a room so stark and colorless, everything had suddenly exploded in rainbows and she winced, stomach jumping from the change.

  Concussion, she realized. This was really going to hurt later.

  She was pulled to her feet again by her arm, and she closed her eyes as the world swam from the change in position. Serious concussion.

  “Stupid bitch. You think I actually want to fuck you?”

  She barely even felt the slap. It caught her left cheek and threw her head downward. Her stomach leapt as the ground rushed up to meet her. At least this time she caught herself with both hands, landing hard on all fours.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  There was the sound of her bucket skidding across the tile floor again, but Danielle just rolled to her side, curling up in a ball. Her head was killing her, and the way her body was shaking from crying was making everything hurt more. There was more shouting in the room, but she ignored it.

  “Danielle? Are you okay?”

  She jumped as a hand landed on her shoulder, but it was pulled away immediately.

  “Sorry.” The voice was truly apologetic and she opened her eyes. Ty was crouched next to her, and she could see the lines of white foam on his jawline. He’s been upstairs shaving, came down without wiping it off. Maybe when she’d screamed.

  She shook her head at his apology and sat up. She could tell he wanted to help but didn’t want to freak her out by touching her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, eyes running over face, lingering on the edge of her mouth.

  She raised a hand and wiped at her lower lip. It came away red.

  “This isn’t bad,” she said, indicating her hand. “I cracked my head on the ground, though. I think I’ve got a concussion. I need to get home.”

  “Should we take you to the hospital?”

  She shook her head, or started to, then decided talking hurt less. “I’ve got my daughter with me. I don’t want to take her there.”

  “I don’t know...”

  She tried a smile, but it pulled at her split lip. “I just want to go home.”

  “I’m so sorry about him. He’s been stressed about getting married, I think.”

  She stood and this time accepted his help as he took her elbow. “Give my condolences to his fiancé.”

  Ty’s chuckle was a bit wry, but he scurried away to pack up her stuff. She braced a hand on the back of a chair at the small table in the eat-in area, blinking to judge how out of it she was. The room was level now, which was good. Standing hadn’t thrown her equilibrium. A bit of nausea, but she might be okay.

  “I’ll take your stuff to the car. Don’t worry about Duke. He’s staying in the office, I promise.”

  She just nodded, once.

  “Just wait here. I’ll take this out, then walk you out.”

  She followed him instead. “No,” she insisted. “My daughter’s out there. I don’t want you scaring her.”

  He didn’t argue. He walked slowly so she could keep up, through the living room and out the front door. The sunshine outside set off an alarm right in her ear, but she had sunglasses in the car. She’d be okay to get home—she hoped.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again as she opened the hatch on the Escape.

  “I’ll get home, get some rest. It’ll be fine,” she assured him. He put the buckets in the back, and she looked up to see Annie on her knees on the back bench seat, looking at them over the back of the seat. She was staring at Danielle, very quiet.

  Her daughter was as sensitive as a smoke alarm when it came to tension. When she got quiet and curious it meant she’d locked onto something being wrong.

  Danielle closed the hatch after attempting a smile at Annie, then she turned to Ty. “No offense, but this is definitely my last time cleaning your place.”

  He was already pulling out his wallet. “No, I don’t blame you. I’m so sorry.” He came up with a wad of cash. “This is all I have. I can send you more if you want. Just...you know.” He winced, not meeting her gaze. “Forget it...happened?”

  She wasn’t a lowly maid. She was the new coroner for Markham County, her word would be trusted more than some. But the thought of going to the police and turning in Mister Hot Shot Frat Boy made her just feel exhausted. Plus, if Duke was as connected and well off as Ty obviously was—and she had to assume he was, that type usually ran in packs, didn’t they? —nothing would happen to him. Maybe she’d get a settlement, but not until she’d been thoroughly humiliated.

  Yes, those thoughts all ran through her head as she stared at the money he was offering her. Assuming her silence could be bought.

  And it could be.

  She took the money offered. “Don’t worry about it,” she mumbled, heading for the driver’s door.

  “Danielle—”

  “I’m not going to say anything,” she snapped. She turned back, hand on the handle. “I just don’t want to see either of you ever again.”

  When she got into the vehicle and shut herself and her daughter in side she could only stare at the console in front of her, blinking to calm her heart down. She should go to the police. She should turn that fucking asshole in. Absolutely.

  “Mommy? What’s wrong? What happened to your face?”

  Instead of starting the car, she covered her face with both hands and burst into tears.

  Chapter Seven

  After dropping Jolene at her own house to finish sobering up Knuckles headed for the Grainger Garage. As expected, Buck was working in the open service bay nearest the street, a big old Suburban up on the rack overhead. Fritter was in the next bay with a Toyota’s hood up while he was leaning in over the side.

  “Hey Knuck. You’re not scheduled today,” Buck said, dropping his arms from the Chevy’s drive train and wiping his brow.

  “I know. But I got concerns.”

  Buck licked at his lips, nodding. “Okay. Let’s talk in the office.”

  “No no, I don’t want to keep you from w
orking. It’s...it’s Jolene.”

  “Jolene?”

  Knuckles nodded, hooking his thumbs on his belt loops. “Got a call last night from Dog. She was barely walking she was so drunk. Some out of towner had his sights on her, wouldn’t leave without her.”

  Buck’s face clouded. “He was manhandling her?”

  “No, not at all. She, apparently, was all for it.”

  “Shit,” Buck all but breathed it out. He squinted up at the job literally hanging over his head. “Fuck man, that is out of my realm.”

  “Mine too, man.” He cracked his knuckles. It was a bad habit; he’d heard it before. “I was hoping...I was hoping Gertie could talk to her.”

  Buck scratched his chin. “Maybe. I’ll ask. Jolene’s been a bit prickly lately.”

  “Yeah, I know. She’s not dealing well. She’s about to implode.”

  With a sigh, he shook his head and yanked the oily rag out of his belt, wiping his hands. “You think this is something we should take to Jayce?”

  Knuckles shook his head. “Not yet. It was once, I think we show her a bit of trust while still letting her know we care about her, we might have more impact. Maybe Gertie just visiting, spending time with her...I don’t know. Not like she can hang out with us all the time, but spending time with Gertie’s a return to normal, you know?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Tims was also supposed to be watching Jolene. I’d love to know where he got to last night.”

  Buck was nodding in agreement as Knuckles’ cell shook his ass. As he reached for his back pocket a pinging sound went off, and Buck was reaching into his pocket. A third ring came from where Fritter was still working.

  It was a text message. Meeting Room. Five minutes.

  Buck sighed, putting his phone away. “Never keep a business running this way.”

  Knuckles grinned and turned back for his truck. He passed Fritter, who was closing up the Toyota.