Billionaire Cowboy: Siblings (Book 2 in the Richland Series)

Chapter 5: Michael

Michael's pov

Briefly watching Rianne drive away, I turned, wondering if this pit in my stomach was normal. I’ve never hit on a female or even attempted to grab their attention, yet I'm the one who just struck out with the only girl who has made me feel something inside.

Walking to my front door, my mind was going a mile a minute. What did I do wrong? Why did she run away? I acknowledged, to myself, that I needed to act differently because Rianne was not like other females.

Boy, this feels like freshman year of high school all over again, when I had no clue what to do with a girl.

Pulling my keys out, I looked over my shoulder as a voice caught my attention. How did I not notice someone on my porch? “Hey, I hope it’s not a bad time?” Stepping out of the shadows, a sigh escaped my lips as my friend's pleading eyes begged for forgiveness. “Hey, Ash, how can I help you?”

Ashley and I went to high school together, but we never hooked up. She’s probably the only female I’m close to, without ever having anything s****l happen between us. A rare feat with me.

Our friendship began back in elementary school, where we were classmates. By the time we were in middle school, her brothers had caused enough of a ruckus that most people avoided her family like the plague. Then, in high school, our friendship warped to a new level the night her boyfriend, a MC member, got a little rough with her, when she refused to entertain one of his friends.

Now, if you're asking how I got myself involved, it's pretty simple. After delivering my recent "shadowing" details to Tank, I was at the clubhouse having a beer, our usual way to wrap up before p*****t was given. Tank can be a bastard to many, but he's always taken care of me.

Minding my own business, I witnessed Ashley endure a punch to the face. The noise was loud like a firecracker. I stepped in to protect her, which earned me a shiner. As the enforcer, Tank took matters into his own hands.

Here's the kicker. Instead of backing up his MC brother, Tank knocked the guy out with one punch. No questions asked. Looking back, I'd like to think my involvement encouraged Tank to jump in, but it just may be wishful thinking on my part.

Long story short, Ashley and I left the party without hostility and the douchebag was never seen again. No questions asked.

When life throws Ashley a bad hand, which happens often, she turns up at my house, the ranch or my trailer, and I do whatever I can, to help.

Welcoming Ashley inside, we talked about her situation and discussed solutions. “Mikey, you and I both know I don’t have enough to fix my car. I appreciate you offering to loan me money again, but I need to sell the car as soon as possible, to pay off a debt.”

Her purple car has been parked outside my house for the past couple of days, while she waited for an estimate. As expected, the shop gave her a ridiculous price. One of her older brothers works at the shop, but he didn't offer her the same discount he's known for throwing at females. There was more involved with their relationship, but I didn’t push it, knowing she’d spill when the time came.

Getting her car into the MC shop will save her money, but she refuses to do anything associated with the club. I don't blame her, but I could help and she would never have to set foot near the shop. She just needs to let me take care of it.

Rubbing my chin, I gave her my honest opinion, “You’re not going to get much for its current condition. It has a lot that needs to be fixed.” She let out a big sigh, “I know. I just don’t have the time it needs to get fixed.” OK, so there's more to it.

Wondering if she was covering for someone, I forced out, “How much do you owe?” Wringing her hands on her lap, she kept her eyes down as a whisper escaped her mouth, “Two thousand by the end of the month.” That's less than a week away.

I had a feeling there was more she was not saying and I was getting irritated. Why would she get me involved but not reveal the whole truth? Then it dawned on me, “Which family member f*cked up?” Her dad was a known gambler in town while two of her brothers were constantly mixed up in shady deals. They were always trying to earn a fast buck, while Ashley worked hard and got stuck time after time having to pay their debts.

She looked up with tears in her eyes, “My dad, he owes Ice.” Ice was a known drug dealer in town who corrupted everything he touched. He’s had business and delivered many bruises to her family members over the years. They're suckers for punishment.

Pulling her in for a hug, I took a deep breath then made the decision, “You're keeping the car. I’ll get it repaired. No questions asked. Also," I held her back to look her in the eyes so she knew how serious I was. "I will be the one to take care of your dad, you don't have to talk to him. But Ash, you have got to promise me, this will be the last time you let him pull you into his sh*t. The next time, you’re on your own.” Embracing her in a warm hug, I whispered, "Block his calls. Block your brothers' calls."

Crying into my shoulder, she finally accepted my terms. I held her tight as her once stiff body slowly loosened up. Calling it a night, she took a shower and crashed in my room while I slept on the couch. Unfortunately, this was not her first time spending the night at my house. Over the years, I've collected a small pile of her clothes. One thing for sure, she deserved a better family.

**** **

The following morning, I pulled up to the MC shop to watch the towtruck drop off Ashley's car and meet with Tank.

After the current MC president took over a couple of years back, he changed all their money-making opportunities to legit businesses. No longer transporting drugs or firearms, they legally own five of the top grossing businesses in town; a bar, a gym, a strip club, a tattoo parlor and an auto shop. Not to mention providing manpower on local ranches when crops are harvested.

The MC lifestyle is not for everyone. It's known for wild parties and showcasing top-of-the-line bikes, which cost a lot of money to maintain for a clubhouse with over thirty members. Thousands of dollars made monthly and having members rotating through jail or being investigated by the ATF caused the club too many problems.

But not everyone made good on their business deals and that's where I came into the picture. As the club's many businesses picked up, Tank hired me on the side to be an extra set of eyes and ears. Basically, I observe and gather intel on people. After delivering my report, I get paid with no questions asked and no knowledge of the reports' existence. What the club did with the information was up to them.

Walking up to the shop’s counter, I was greeted by Harley, one of the club bunnies. She’s always hitting on people, but I learned the hard way that only members can touch club bunnies, so I blow off her advances. “Hey, how’s your day going?”

Leaning forward displaying her enlarged fake boobs, she licked her lips, but nothing down south changed for me. It could have been her clown face, high-pitched voice or the hickey on the curve of her right breast.

One thing for sure, she looked like sloppy-seconds and I liked my life.

Tilting her head over one shoulder, she slowly looked me up and down, “Go on back sweetie, he’s waiting for you.” Nodding, I sauntered to Tank's office, with a smirk, impressed I felt nothing for her. In the past, any interaction with Harley would have forced me to adjust my pants a couple of times.

Tank’s conversations were always short and to the point. After closing the door, he said the name: Scott Kittleman, and my job: Shadow.

Knowing I wouldn’t get explanations, especially for following a friend, I wondered what my boy had gotten himself into, but I would never ask questions.

Sitting in his chair, Tank sat back and stared at me. This was his usual tough-guy-tactic to force me to leave, but not today. I had more on my mind. I’ve witnessed him use this tactic numerous times, so I remained quiet, keeping my attention on him. He rolled the phone in his hand, then crossed his arms over his chest, “Okay, what?”

Explaining the situation with Ashley, his jaw tightened as he kept his eyes on me. Everyone was aware of her dysfunctional family, and, let's be honest, bringing them up could create a problem for me. I knew I was putting my neck on the line by deciding to roll the dice that her pathetic dad had a recent run-in with the club.

Knowing Tank may not want to hear my solution, I put it out there before he told me to leave, “I’ll clear the debt with Ice but I want her piece of sh*t dad to pay for the crap he's put his daughter through.” Tank nodded and rolled his lips agreeing.

When he barked, “Me or the club?” I barely held back a flinch. Is he giving it a possibility? Without hesitation, I replied, “You decide.” He inquired, “How much?” I added, “Two G.”

Looking down at his phone to type a text, he finished, then flopped it onto his desk before commenting, “You know we’re no longer in the hustling business.” I nodded, giving him time to work through it.

He may pretend they're a legit club, but I've witnessed more than one hustle encounter by the club. I just need to be patient.

Silence filled the room. In the past, I have shadowed all of Ashley’s family members and learned a lot about their sketchy habits. Bringing her dad into the spotlight was the only way I could think of to help her get free.

Tank’s phone vibrated. Reading the text, he smirked, "Unpaid accounts." Just as I thought, her family owes the clubhouse money. My previous shadow jobs were right. Once a scumbag, always a scumbag.

Tank asked, "And you?" Answering with a smile, "Just helping a friend," I was hoping to end this conversation on a good note. Tank smirked, "Yeah."

Nodding my head, I left without wanting to know Tank’s plan for getting the club's money back. Quickly visiting the bank for a withdrawal, then stopping by the w***e house on the outskirts of town to visit Ice, I texted Ashley letting her know everything was taken care of.

The meeting with Ice went better than planned. As soon as he was aware that the MC was handling Ashley's family for debt owed to the club, Ice agreed to leave her out of any future debt her family may accumulate.

It helps to know the right people. For legit business, the Richlands are the ones with power. For sketchy business, the MC pulls a mean punch.

Turning down a discounted sloppy-seconds treat from one of Ice's w****s, I left the establishment, for the first time, feeling disgusted.

To think at one time I was a frequent customer.

****

Shadowing Scott

Gabbing like girls was never a guy thing, so I couldn’t have a random chat with Scott. I took it upon myself to talk to people outside of our inner circle of friends to discover why the club was looking in his direction.

If memory serves me right, when we were in college, Scott's sister married a guy and moved a couple of states over. After his parents sold their ranch, they moved to warmer climates. The walk down memory lane was easy, but, there was one thing I couldn’t figure out.

Why would Scott return to our small town?

Creating a file on my boy, I contacted a family friend, Emma, who was a local bakery owner and host of our town's infamous Hens. This unofficial group of females gathers every bloody morning to gossip and spread rumors.

Why call them Hens? They cluck non-stop about everyone's business.

While Emma’s baking skills speak for themselves, having her as a source to access current gossip has proven to be handy for my side job.

Texting Emma, who also happened to be one of Tank’s cousins, she called back offering everything she knew about Scott, “We all know his divorce was rough on him, but the weird thing is, the ex-wife’s baby daddy is none other than Rich Parker.” Emma did little to hide the disgust in her voice.

Did she have a history with Rich?

Rubbing my head, I interrupted, “Wait, you mean she was shacking up with Tyler’s younger brother?” Tyler was one of our friends in high school. After college, he got married, popped out a couple of kids, then dropped off the face of the earth. We don’t hang in the same circle anymore, but I should probably look him up.

Emma’s infectious laugh and soft voice let me know she was adding her opinion to the mix, “But you know, with the parents and sister having moved away, everyone’s waiting for a shootout between Rich and Scott, but to be honest, I don’t think Scott was happy with that skank."

Her voice got even softer, "Rumor has it the baby-daddy news gave him the break he wanted. And Michael, the Hens insist the baby is not Rich’s. But all the speculation could just be more ingredients to the mix. You know what I mean?”

The Hens were known for creating their own twist on stories. Hollywood may try to make real-life stories better than they actually were, but in our town, the Hens can make rumors seem larger than life.

Letting her run her mouth, I patiently soaked in each of Emma's assumptions, knowing some of them were true. Knowing I only ask her about people when I’m doing a job for Tank, Emma has always been discreet about our conversations, which I appreciated.

I wanted to know, “Why do you think I was given Scott's name?” A pattern of soft noises, probably tapping her finger, filled the silence until her voice went up an octave, “Oh, you know I heard something about him visiting the clubhouse a couple of times last week. Maybe he’s doing jobs on the side, like you.”

It made sense. The club is tight-lipped and selective about who they trust. Tank has hinted for years about me joining the club. Heck, it wouldn't be too much of a change for me. I grew up on a ranch, I was a bouncer a couple of times during college and my side jobs with the club were usually given to prospects during slower times in the year.

But, why would Tank have me shadow a guy who is already doing jobs?

Later in the week, while repairing a panel on a shed with my uncle, I learned Scott had recently been hired as a ranch hand by the Richlands. He rented a room on property which made me believe he was planning on staying around for a while.

Now, I just need to find out why.

**** **

Rianne’s pov

Between Abby and Trevor, my phone has been ringing off the hook. She’s excited about dating her long-time crush and Trevor wants to know everything about his girl so he can organize dates to woo her. They really are the perfect match. In the mix of their texts, I got an unexpected message from my brother.

Matt: Hey Ri, a friend asked about you.

Rianne: Your friend? Yeah, sorry bro, not my type, lol.

Matt: I know. I would never let just anyone talk to you, but he’s a good guy.

Rianne: You mean he treats the bunnies well?

Matt: Yeah, but I know he would treat you right.

Rianne: Gee, thank you for keeping tabs on my s*x life, but I don’t need your help.

Matt: WTF? Are you kidding me? I don’t want to hear about your NOT EVER GOING TO HAPPEN s*x life.

Rianne: This is weird

Matt: It is just a date.

Rianne: Who is it?

Matt: Just give him a chance.

Rianne: Blind date? What’s in it for you?

Matt: Seriously?

Rianne: Fine, okay.

Matt: He’ll pick you up tonight at 6.

Rianne: You would be a good secretary.

Matt: Whatever.