Ransom. The word echoed in her mind. Shelly-Ann was holding her girls for ransom. She couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. Dawn tossed the cheesy puff bag on the table. “I’m going to call Doug.”
“Look around you.” Arianne unsheathed her weapon and placed it on the table. “You might be confused about what’s going on between you and Cade, but he’s not. The prospect wouldn’t be out there if you didn’t mean something to him. And although I’m your bestie, and I was coming over here anyway to see the girls and get a sparkly princess pink manicure so Jagger could laugh at me at the shooting range, Cade asked me to swing by, too. Take advantage. Pretend you’re a Sinner. Dig deep and find the strength I know you have to take what you want. Then let’s go get your girls.”
*
“Open this door, Shelly-Ann.” Dawn thudded her fist on the door to Shelly-Ann’s brand-new, sprawling ranch home, tucked away at the back of Conundrum’s Bow Creek Estates. She doubted Shelly-Ann’s ritzy neighbors had ever seen an outlaw biker, but once she’d made the decision to confront Shelly-Ann, it was a matter of go big or go home, and why show up with one outlaw biker when she could show up with two?
“I know you’re in there. I saw you through the window.”
“Get lost,” Shelly-Ann’s voice crackled over the intercom. “The girls aren’t here and I got company unless you’re standing on my doorstep with two thousand dollars. Then I might come out and say hello.”
Dawn looked over her shoulder at the prospect, standing guard behind her while Arianne plucked petals off a begonia in Shelly-Ann’s flower box. Damned if he wasn’t the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on, aside from Cade. With that thick dark hair, lean frame, and chiseled jaw, he could have graced any runway. Instead he’d chosen the outlaw life, and from the uneasy way he wore his cut, he was still growing into it.
“You got a name, prospect?” She’d waved to him from the back of Arianne’s bike before they headed out to Cindy’s Florals where her boss had kindly given her an advance on her salary, but she hadn’t had a chance to talk to him until now.
“Nick. But I haven’t earned a road name yet, and Jagger doesn’t trust me so everyone calls me Prospect.”
“Nice to meet you, Nick. Could you please open the door?” She glanced over at Arianne, still unsure about how far she could push the prospect around. After all, she was still a civilian.
“Old ladies don’t say please,” Arianne whispered.
“I’m not an old lady,” Dawn whispered back.
“Prospect,” Arianne barked. “Open the damn door.”
Nick ran forward, bent at the waist, and hit the door with his shoulder. He staggered back from the impact, and tried kicking at it instead, a totally ineffectual move that brought a smile to Dawn’s lips. Prospects. They were all the same.
Arianne pulled the last petal off the begonia, then pulled out her weapon and screwed a silencer onto the barrel. “Men.” She sighed and motioned Nick back, then fired at the lock until the wood cracked. “They always have to do things the hard way.”
“She scares me,” Nick said quietly as he followed Dawn into Shelly-Ann’s house. “Never met a woman like her. Not even sure she is a woman.”
“I hope you’re saying nice things about me,” Arianne called out. “I’m in a good mood right now, but I promise you wouldn’t want to see me riled.”
Dawn walked down the polished, dark wood hallway; past gilt mirrors and painted alcoves containing vases of silk flowers; and into the expansive living room, decorated in dark brown and cream, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Trecher Valley. Two men in suits were loading Baggies containing white powder into a suitcase from a box on the coffee table, while Shelly-Ann lounged on the couch watching them. Sunlight glinted off the sparkly purple heart stickers decorating each bag—a common indicator of low to mid-end product—and Dawn blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light.
“My next clients are here, boys. Hurry it up please.”
“You’re selling drugs with my children in your house?” Dawn’s voice rose in pitch, and one of the men frowned.
“Thought you said they were clients.”
“Thought you said you didn’t want anyone to know which senator you work for,” Shelly-Ann shot back. “Take your quarters and go.”
The two men shared a glance, and the one who had spoken snapped the suitcase closed. Dawn waited until they left the room before she spoke again.
“Where are Maia and Tia?”
“Not here. I hired a babysitter to look after them for the day. Didn’t want them to get the wrong idea when they saw the stickers.” Shelly-Ann leaned back on the white leather couch and rolled her eyes. “So what is this? You got some new friends? We gonna have a party? Or did you come for your weekly fix?” She gestured to the box on the table and bile rose in Dawn’s throat.