Page 63 of Givin' Me Fitz!
I wished him the same and closed the front door, rushing into the kitchen to get the toaster pastries and two cups of coffee. I took a plate from the cabinet to use as a tray, and after I put some milk into his coffee, I hurried into the bedroom.
“That was Elgin from across the street. I asked him to hose off the porch and the driveway for you this weekend. He and his mother are going to New York for Thanksgiving, so I’m sure he was trying to make some scratch for his trip. I gave him a hundred.” I handed Fitz his coffee and a toaster pastry that I’d put on a napkin before picking up my own cup.
I didn’t expect Fitz to start laughing so hard that he spilled coffee on the top sheet. I took his cup and put it on the nightstand on my side of the bed. “What’s so funny?”
“I gave him a hundred before I left for Tahoe, asking him to bring in my mail and keep an eye on the place. It wasn’t until we were halfway there that I remembered I hadn’t changed my address from the office to here. The kid is so damn sweet, I don’t even care that he didn’t really have to do anything.” Fitz reached over me for his coffee, taking a sip before giving me a kiss on the cheek.
I chuckled. “Yeah, he is. I don’t mind helping him out with little jobs to do around the place. His mom is a single mother, and he’s trying to help her out. I can give you the money back if you’d like.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining. I’m all for a kid being aware of the family situation and wanting to help. I think it’s healthy for him to learn that nobody gets a free ride. I worked in the summers hauling hay as soon as I could drive a tractor, and when I was able to lift the hundred-pound bales my father used on the ranch, I hired myself out to the neighbors for a dime a bale to help them get up hay. I put the money in the bank to use for school activities and to buy my first truck. Kids these days don’t have that work ethic that was instilled in us growing up.”
I smirked. He sounded like my dad, but that was fine. I’d expected them to have many similar points of view regarding the world, and honestly, I wasn’t much younger than him that I didn’t agree with the things he was saying. Anything worth having took hard work and dedication.
That train of thought brought the robbery at Tumbleweeds to the forefront of my mind in a flash. “Do you wanna come spend the night at my place tonight? You have no food—these are your last two toaster pastries, babe.” I chomped off the corner of mine and smirked at him.
Fitz’s laugh was deep and happy. “You gonna cook for me, sugar?”
I raised my eyebrows. “You think I can’t? I’ll have you know Celine Abbott made sure I could keep myself alive before she and Keller moved to San Diego. I’ll make dinner for us, and you’ll eat your words—or my ass as a reward for cooking you a delicious meal. Anyway, I need to get to the dispensary. I got a few things I wanna look at. I’ll see you later, babe.”
Fitz got out of bed, gave me a quick kiss, and grabbed his toaster pastry before winking at me as he headed to the bathroom. I laughed as I got dressed, keeping his boxers on as I slid on my jeans. I was looking forward to cooking dinner at my house later that night, but first, I had some digging to do.
“Rewind to the start of the day and let me see it up to the time the Scorpions break in through the back door.”
I was sitting with Mouse in his office and bedroom at the clubhouse. There had to be something we were missing and based on the fact I hadn’t heard a word from the fucking cops, I assumed they didn’t give a flying fuck whether they caught the robbers or not.
I’d gone to the dispensary after I left Fitz’s house—not eagerly—and I examined the door again. We’d reopened for business, me taking money out of the club’s emergency fund to pay Regan Hill for the double order of cannabis after touching base with the executive board. It was the smartest thing to do instead of borrowing money from my father. Thankfully, my brothers agreed.
When we were cleaning up the place after the robbery, T-Roy had commented that it was funny the lock on the back door wasn’t broken, but the metal door had a huge dent where someone had kicked it in. I wanted to see if we had footage of the door from the day that Mouse had downloaded and given to the cops.
Mouse queued up the video. He pressed a key. “This makes it run. Hit it twice to make it stop. I need to get something to drink. You want anything?”
“No thanks. What time is it?” My phone was plugged in at my office desk.
“Quarter to two.” Mouse closed the door when he left.
I sat in his chair and hit the key on his laptop to play the video. There was no sound on any of the cameras, which made me wonder if we should upgrade them. In the back of the shop, all we’d hear would be a lot of traffic noise, so maybe it wasn’t as necessary as I first thought.
I watched the feed, wishing I could speed it up. Just seeing the cars come and go from the parking lot was like watching paint dry. My eyes were heavy because I hadn’t really slept until I got to Fitz’s house and tired myself out in the best fucking way.
We’d exchanged those three little words while he was gone to Tahoe, but I wanted to say them and have him say them to me in person. I was sure I’d never tire of hearing them.
Just as I was about to give up or nod off, I saw a pickup race into the parking lot of Tumbleweeds. Two guys got out, knit masks in place. Behind it, a blue SUV pulled in and two more guys hopped out.
I stopped the video and rushed downstairs to find Ders and Spider. “Come with me right now.”
“What’s going on?” Hobie grabbed his beer and followed me up the stairs.
“Mouse found the fucking footage from when the assholes got to Tumbleweeds. I want your opinion on it.” I didn’t want to rely on my own take. I needed the guys I trusted more than anything to see it, too.
Ders and Spider came up, Ders handing me a beer. We huddled around Mouse’s computer, and I hit the button to rewind the footage. I stopped it just as Mouse came in.
“Wow. What’s up?” He glanced at each of us and held up his hands in an exaggerated shrug.
“We’re looking at the tape of when the back door was breached.” I hit the key, and the four of us watched as the masked guys rushed in. Nobody kicked it. Nobody tampered with the lock. They simply turned the handle and barreled inside.
I stopped the video feed and turned to Mouse. “Show me the booth.”
Mouse leaned over me and pecked on some keys. When the footage from the booth where Boyd Townsend was sitting began, I wasn’t surprised to see he was asleep. The fucker was the most worthless person I’d ever met.
