Struggling For Justice Read online

  He grabbed the wooden chair, set it down in front of her, and sat facing her. "I need to know everything. I'm trying to help you, but I'm also trying to protect the club from any backlash that comes our way because I'm helping you. I get how you don't want to bring up your shit, but trust me, I've heard worse."

  "No, I don't think you have," she said on a groan. "I wish I could wake up and this would all be a nightmare."

  "Then let me be the one who gives you a good dream. I can help you," he said.

  She unfolded her limbs, scooted to the end of the mattress and stood. "I don't even know where to start so everything makes sense."

  "The beginning," he said.

  She rubbed her arms and glanced out the window. "It's getting dark."

  "Lady..." he mumbled.

  She inhaled deeply. "Okay. I'll tell you."

  Remmy forego the chair and moved to the bed, putting his back to the wall and letting his boots hang off the side of the mattress. The tension in the air grew thicker the more Natalie paced. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  "My husband, Robert, died last summer." She cleared her throat. "I still can't believe it happened."

  His resolve softened at the sound of the pain weakening her voice. He moved to get up and go to her, but she put her hand out to stop him.

  "No, please. It's okay." She straightened her back. "I don't...can't have you feeling sorry for me. Not you."

  "Right," he whispered, not understanding why.

  She deserved comfort and to mourn her husband. His death was ugly and unnecessary, but Remmy had to find out if she knew the real reason why her husband died, so he stayed on the bed.

  "It wasn't only Robert who died, but Chad—his younger brother. They died at the same time." She glanced at him, looked away, and trembled. "Will is their younger brother. He believes they were murdered, even though I've told them the truth."

  "What's the truth," he asked, alert for any sign that she was lying.

  "The same thing the police investigators have already told me. Robert committed suicide and somehow he either killed Chad when he shot himself or it was a—God, I hate this." She dashed her hand across her cheek. "He could've killed Chad, and then himself. Whatever happened that night happened because of Robert. It was not murder like Will claims."

  Mother Fucker. He no longer remained on the bed, but stood to stretch the tightness out of his body that came with guilt. She honestly believed her husband offed himself.

  "Why is your former brother in law harassing you?" he asked, needing more answers since she finally opened up to him.

  "He doesn't want me accepting that what Robert did came from his own hands. The business Robert and his brother owned is on hold until we go in front of a judge to declare how we'll split the business between Will and I...as set forth in the will both Robert and Chad had drawn up. But, Will wants a new investigation opened to save the family name. To pressure me, he's taken our house and has it held in estate holding and our...my personal account locked. I just want to go on with my life. He can have everything. I don't care anymore."

  His head reeled. He believed every word she was saying, and the club had to know what was going on, in case he was wrong. No person could fake the devastation and loss that Natalie was going through.

  The information she fed him changed everything.

  Will's desire to open the case would bring Los Li back into the picture. Something neither he nor the club would want, since action with the Mexican mafia had quieted since last summer and every Bantorus member wanted to keep it that way.

  Public questions from the remaining Oman brother on the case would also cause investigators to turn their attention on the Bantorus MC and their involvement that night, especially for his president and his brother, Lee, who at that time were dealing with Risa's kidnapping, the explosion at the club, and the attempted murder of Sheriff Colby.

  Natalie's posture bowed and she cupped her elbows in her hand. His ribs constricted, making his breathing change. Each breath a reminder of his involvement. In ten minutes, he could change her opinion of her husband by telling her the truth. Whether that would bring her relief or more stress, he had no idea.

  He was positive of one thing. He wasn't looking at a woman with an ulterior motive to bring trouble down on Bantorus MC's head. She mourned for a life she had, a husband she loved, and somehow she'd latched on to the story the Feds gave her of the murder/suicide.

  Her agenda was personal with her brother in law, getting acceptance for what she'd lived through, and wanting to heal. She had no clue about the outside danger of opening up a closed case, add in a multi-million dollar mining company, and she had enough red flags waving in the air to attract Los Li to her.

  The only way Los Li would deal with her was by killing her to shut her up.

  Natalie sniffed. He strode toward her, cupped the back of her neck, held her firmly, and said, "You're done dealing with this shit."

  "He's not going to stop," she said, her voice breaking. "I don't even know why I'm telling a stranger all this. I'm tired. I'm frustrated, and I don't know what to do anymore."

  "Fighting alone is over, lady." He kissed her forehead, holding her close and spoke into her hair. "I'll take care of you, and make sure he doesn't touch or threaten you again."

  "You have no idea how nice that sounds, but it's my responsibility. None of this has anything to do with you, and I must fix everything myself. I need to find happiness, and I'll never be truly at peace as long as Will Oman is in my life keeping Robert alive. It's been a long time coming, and I'm ready...really, I am. Besides, he's not going to let this rest. He wants control of the mine and to clear his family's name."

  "How much power does he have regarding the mine?" Remmy rubbed a strand of her silky hair between his finger and thumb.

  Federal relied on the miners. Without a working silver mine in town, people would move on, the economy would sink to an all-time low, and the town would suffer. It'd happened before, and they had to rebuild themselves as a community. Meghoni Mine was a huge part of that recovery.

  "Right now, fifty percent. I have the other half. The company has enough people to keep the mine producing silver, but Robert and Chad's assets are frozen for the immediate future. The managers will continue working and paying the supply company and miners, but I don't have a penny coming in to support myself," she said, her voice getting stronger. "I need a job, and I refuse to go back to Montana and work because when I'm close, Will feels he can intrude on my life."

  He stroked her neck with the pad of his thumb. "What do you do?"

  She raised her gaze. "I teach women self-defense."

  Her deadpan expression and stubborn tilt of her chin backed her announcement. The ache in his chest eased and amusement brought his arms around her, cradling her head against his chest, so he could smile in private. Smiling wasn't enough. After the hell of dealing with her shit, he laughed.

  She tugged against him, and he pulled her down against him again. He wasn't done enjoying the feel of her body, and it was the closest thing to sex he was going to get until he solved her troubles. His laughter filled the room, until the only noise was the sound of his fast breathing as he caught his breath.

  "I don't understand why you're laughing at me." She pushed against his stomach.

  He stroked the back of her head to sooth her feelings, still finding her funny. "This morning, you stomped my foot, head butted me, and nailed me in the balls. Every time my sack ached on the ride, I thought I was getting old...letting a woman take me down."

  Her eyes widened and her mouth closed, slowly curving into the most beautiful smile. "I'm good at what I do."

  He chuckled. "That you are, lady."

  She beamed a smile at him that stroked his ego. He tilted his head back and gazed at the ceiling. He'd never be able to keep his distance from her if she kept acting all sweet. The way she opened up, he'd swear she wasn't used to someone complimenting her.

  "All
right." He stepped back and ran his hands through his hair. "Hop in bed. I'm going to take a shower, and then we both need to sleep."

  Her hand came out and stopped him. "Thank you, Remmy. For everything, but especially listening to me."

  He gazed down at her hand, soft and feminine against his tattooed arm. He was a biker, and she was sitting on a silver mine. They had nothing in common, but he'd sure like to find out if they were good in bed together.

  He walked into the bathroom and within ten minutes had showered, toweled his hair, and returned to the room. He paused beside the bed. Natalie was already asleep, curled on her side, the blanket up to her neck. She barely made a lump in the bed.

  He turned off the bedside lamp and crawled under the covers. Lying on his back, he folded his hands behind his head and stared into the darkness. Kurt had to know what was going on first thing in the morning. While Los Li didn't seem to be involved with Natalie, her problem was bigger than dealing with her brother in law. He couldn't even imagine what kind of money was tied up in the mine or the level of danger Will Oman brought to Natalie. All he knew was he'd keep his promise to make sure she stayed safe.

  Chapter Six

  The sun glared, blocking Natalie's vision. She shielded her eyes with her hand and gazed up at the two story, brick building Remmy brought her to. The sign above the door read 'Federal Community'.

  After Remmy hustled Natalie out of the club after a hasty breakfast of Cheerios and OJ, he'd brought her to town. She glanced at him. He wasn't giving her any information, and she was half-afraid he was going to send her packing.

  First thing she needed to do was find a place to live and a job. She bit the inside of her lip. Every time she tried to focus on a way to solve her current problem, Remmy had distracted her.

  "Anyone in the community can sign up to use the building." Remmy's hand pressed against her back, urging her through the door. "The Elks meet here once a week. There's some kind of zinga or zimba exercise class here that the Silver Girls come to a couple days a week. I think there's even a bingo night."

  He flicked on the lights. She stared at the huge empty room and the stage at the far end. The wooden floors shined and the wooden architecture inside the building left her stunned.

  "The building must be a hundred years old." She strolled over to the molding around the cutout for the drinking fountain. "Look at the craftsmanship."

  "The whole town is on the historical registry. Everything's old," he said.

  "Not old, beautiful." She glanced at him and smiled.

  This morning, she woke up snuggled against his side. To her horror, she realized what woke her up was his sudden movement to block his crotch when her hand moved to his stomach. It'd taken her a few moments to understand what she'd done and his defensive move to protect his family jewels.

  Though he swore when she asked him if he was still hurting, he was only stiff from the ride yesterday and rolled out of bed to get dressed. Her stomach fluttered and she turned back around. He'd lied to her. It wasn't sore muscles that bothered him. He'd been hard as a rock and liking her snuggled against him. Her reaction to his aroused state made the next hour uncomfortable as he took her in the kitchen at the club to eat breakfast.

  "So, what do you think? Will it work?" he asked.

  She whirled around. "Remmy, I'm not a resident of Federal. I can't use the community building. Besides, I'm used to teaching in private athletic clubs for women who want to be entertained in the idea that they can protect themselves, when the reality is, they'd never break one of their professionally manicured nails to defend themselves."

  "Snob," he muttered, yet his eyes softened.

  "I'm not. I'm a realist." She held her arms out to her side. "I just...I'm not sure how the women here will accept me. Their husbands, boyfriends, brothers, are men who worked for my husband before...well, they know what happened."

  "You're scared," he said, walking over to her. "You need a job, and you can offer something that nobody else in Federal can. Do it. If you hate it, you quit. Put your name on the calendar, leave your last name off or use a fake one, that way nobody will link you to what happened, and try one class. If that works out, try another class, or you can continue staying at the club until this shit is over and it's safe to go back to Montana. It doesn't matter to me, but you mentioned wanting to work, and this will give you something to look forward to."

  She groaned. "I don't want to mooch off your kindness, because I owe you too much as it is."

  "You don't owe me. What you do from this point on is up to you. I'm only stating your options. I'm fine and the club's fine with you staying with me." He smoothed her hair out of her face, something she noticed he did a lot.

  She also noticed she enjoyed all the times he went out of the way to touch her. Her and Robert never had a relationship where they held hands while they walked, or sat together cuddled on the couch to watch television at night. They'd stopped kissing each other goodbye a year after their wedding. She'd spent years envying others who on the outside had loving relationships.

  It was impossible not to feel special when she was with Remmy. Though she had to remember, he was only trying to help.

  "Why is everyone in Bantorus so accepting of me?" She studied him.

  "You're in danger, and Bantorus MC takes care of their women," he said.

  "But, I'm not anyone's woman," she said.

  It's not that she wanted to belong. The bikers were a hard living type of people. From the little she'd seen, they worked and played hard as if every moment might be their last. They were free with their affection, told the truth even when it hurt, and thought they ran Federal, Idaho. She gazed up at Remmy's face. From the lines around his eyes, the neglected hair that probably never had a professional trim in years, and the overdue shave to keep his goatee in shape, he lived life without putting himself in any one role. He also didn't give a damn what people thought.

  She envied that trait.

  His eyes softened. She sucked in her bottom lip. From their time together, she knew that look could be gone in an instant. She'd seen him go from soft to hard, hard to soft more than once. She both trusted and feared him.

  Feared him, because despite all the hardness, she desired to have that softness directed at her. At one time, Robert had given her that same kind of attention, until he didn't. He never went back to being the man she fell in love with.

  "Bantorus MC doesn't allow women on the back of the members' bike." Remmy inhaled deeply. "You were on the back of my bike this morning coming into town. You rode my bike when escaping from Will, and again when I brought you back from Spokane."

  "What are you saying?" she whispered. "I broke a rule?"

  "I'm saying you're my responsibility. You belong to me, and seeing how I'm Bantorus, you're a part of Bantorus."

  She rocked back a step. "That's...preposterous."

  "I don't even know what that word means, but it doesn't matter." He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. "You'll get used to being my property and deal with it."

  "I don't think so," she said.

  He shrugged. "You will. They all do."

  Her jaw tightened and she stared at him in disgust.

  All of them?

  Did he have other women he claimed as his responsibility?

  The thought of him giving his attention to other women left a nasty taste in her mouth. She couldn't be jealous, because he wasn't hers. They had no relationship, even though she'd cuddled with him last night. Her heart raced. When was the last time someone held her while she slept?

  She understood the role the bitches—God, she hated that word—played for the bikers. They were there to entertain the men, and were quite flamboyant in letting her know that they belonged within the club. Sure, they were nice to her, but she wasn't trying to be a part of their little clique.

  "You're not calling me your...bitch, are you?" she asked, prepared to walk out of the building if the answer was yes.

  He chuckled. "Lady,
you're no bitch."

  "Gee, thanks for that." She panted to keep herself breathing. "Why do you do that? Call me lady?"

  He stepped closer. She raised her chin. He took another mini step forward until she held her breath, because he was within inches of her. He lowered his mouth, and they were suddenly breathing each other's air and the intimacy had her holding her breath, because her sex was pulsating and apparently never got the memo that she was a recent widow and had no desire to have an affair.

  He kissed her softly on her lips.

  "Because, you're educated, strong, beautiful. A class act." He tilted his head, and instead of kissing her again, he inhaled deeply as if smelling her. "You've earned my respect."

  "Oh," she said on an exhale, liking the name even more now that she knew the reason behind it.

  Her tongue came out and moistened her lips, tasting his kiss. She'd never savored anything as wild, intoxicating, and magnificent as Remmy's kiss before.

  "I'll sign the calendar and see if the women in town are interested in taking a self-defense class." She moved away from him, before she did something incredibly stupid.

  The only man she'd ever known intimately was Robert. What kind of woman had sexual thoughts about another man only months after burying her husband, who she'd promised to spend the rest of her life with?

  "That's good." Remmy walked across the room, uncapped the marker hanging from a string next to a large erasable whiteboard, and wrote out her information.

  She cupped her elbows and forced herself to stop looking at the fit of his jeans over his squeezable ass, the well-worn faded spots on the denim from sitting his motorcycle. He was a becoming a new friend. A friend who was helping her back on her feet. That's all. It was only her messed up thoughts fabricating what was happening between them that confused her.

  He returned to her side and cupped the back of her neck, guiding her out of the building. She warmed from his touch, the security of knowing he supported her, and she'd done something that made him happy.

  Beside the bike, she said, "Thank you."

  "Stop thanking me all the time, Nat," he said.