Sam's Playboy (Phantom Bastards MC Book 4) Read online

  Caleb comes out of his room to spend more time with the women. He ends up falling asleep in Gwen’s lap and she puts him to bed for me. I really don’t need to be carrying him at this point, but I would have if it had just been us.

  Once they leave, I clean up the house and make my way to bed. I cry for the loss of Playboy as I look at the pictures from today’s ultrasound. This is crazy to think I’m having his babies and he has no clue. I want him to know but there’s no way I can tell him when he won’t have anything to do with me.

  “We’ll be okay little ones. I’ll love you more than enough for your daddy and me,” I say, rubbing my hand on my still flat stomach.

  It’s not long before sleep claims me and dreams of Playboy and the life we could have had play. I dream of him playing and laughing with our children and being the amazing father I know he’d be. If he would have anything to do with me. With us.

  Chapter Eleven

  Playboy

  THINGS HAVE BEEN calm since I was sliced on the way to the mess hall last week. I haven’t seen the lawyer again since he came to visit me the last time. Hell, my dad hasn’t even heard from him since our visit after I saw Anderson last. My dad is as pissed as I am right now.

  Yesterday the women went down to see Sam and Caleb. She called Gwen and they talked for a little bit. Shy found out and showed up while they were still on the phone. Gwen had already worked her magic and found out where she was staying. Somewhere in the small town of Torrino. I don’t even know where the hell that is.

  I’m waiting for my dad to visit today because I have trial this afternoon and Shy got me some clothes around, so I’m not wearing these jail clothes. The only thing I won’t be wearing is my cut. I feel naked without the thing, but there’s nothing I can do until I get the fuck out of here.

  “Busch, visitor,” the guard tells me.

  I stand up and place my hands in front of me. He cuffs me and we walk down the hall to the visiting rooms. My dad is sitting there waiting for me and he looks as if he’s aged since the last time I saw him. I hate this shit because I know this is taking its toll on him. He hates to see any of us on the inside, but I’m his only son and the Vice President of the club. He’s been grooming me for longer than I can remember to take his spot at the head of the club.

  “You ready for today?” he asks as I sit down.

  “As ready as I can be without knowin’ what the fuck is goin’ on,” I respond.

  “I know. I’m not sure what the fuck is goin’ on with Anderson. Hopefully, he’s on point today. That’s the only thing I care about. You comin’ home is the most important thing to me. To us,” he says. “The guards got your clothes. Said they’d bring them to you when it was time.”

  “I know, Dad. So, what’s goin’ on with Sam?” I ask, needing to know about my girl.

  “Well, she’s workin’ at a truck stop. And, from what Shy says, she’s livin’ in a complete hell hole. Worn out carpet, walls need to be painted and wallpapered again. There’s a hole in the wall by the laundry room. Everythin’ is just plain worn out and Sam doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Neither does Caleb. They’re just livin’ life the best they can,” he answers me, waiting for me to blow up.

  “What the fuck?” I explode. “Why would she live like that?”

  “I don’t know. They tried to get out of her what’s goin’ on and she won’t say a word. Only thing she said is she wants you to come home and not have to worry about seein’ her because of you havin’ nothing’ to do with her while you’ve been in here,” he says. “Said you don’t love her because you won’t talk to her, let her see you, or read her letters. Her head is completely fucked because of this shit, Playboy.”

  I hang my head. Not in shame, I hang it in guilt. I’ve got my reasons for not wanting to see her or anything else, ones I’ve explained to the guys when they come visit me. Hell, I even explained it to Shy when she came to see me. I don’t imagine that helped the situation because I saw her and I won’t see Sam.

  How many more ways can I fuck this up with her?

  “So, no one knows what’s goin’ on with her still?” I ask to be clear.

  “Nope. She refuses to say a word. Just that when she can talk about it, she will,” my dad answers. “I’m gonna keep this short, so you can get ready for trial. We’ll all be there.”

  “No, you won’t. Sam won’t be there,” I respond, standing from my seat and making my way to the door. “Oh, any news on the fucker who tried to stab me?”

  “None yet. Got the guards lookin’ into it. They’ll have somethin’ soon. Even if you aren’t in here, we’ll make sure it’s taken care of. Won’t happen again either,” he tells me as I step through the door.

  The guard leads me back to my cell, my home for the time being. Hopefully, not after today, though. I want to go the fuck home so I can find Sam and Caleb to bring them home where they belong.

  I’ve changed clothes into the dark wash jeans and the button-down grey shirt Shy picked out for me to wear today. She sent a tie too, but I’m not going to wear that shit. I have my new pair of boots on my feet and my long, dirty blonde hair is pulled back in a man bun because I need to keep it out of my damn eyes.

  “Busch, let’s head out,” the guard tells me.

  This time I turn around so he can place the cuffs on me. I’ll be leaving jail so they have to go behind my back. I’m fine with it as long as it means I don’t have to come back here for very long. We head out of jail and he leads me to the cruiser. Because I’m the only one heading to court today, we’re traveling in a cruiser instead of the jail van.

  It doesn’t take us long to pull up to the courthouse. The parking lot is filled with every member of the club, the ol’ ladies, and Gwen and Kim. I don’t know why the fuck Fox hasn’t claimed that woman yet. He better get his head out of his ass before he ends up like me.

  Even though I know she’s not going to be here, my eyes still scan the parking lot for Sam. My heart breaks as I realize I’ve pushed her so far away by not talking to her or seeing her that she hasn’t come on the one day she could see me. I shake my head as my dad steps forward. No, as Slim steps forward. He’s not my dad today; today he’s Slim, President of the Phantom Bastards MC.

  “Let’s go, Busch,” the guard says, leading me past my family on the way into the courthouse.

  We walk into the room reserved for me while any other cases are going on. I take a seat, and the guard switches my handcuffs to the front of my body instead of leaving them behind my back. Once he’s done, I sit in the chair, and it’s not long before Anderson comes into the room.

  “How are you doing today, Playboy?” he asks me.

  “I’d be better if I knew what the fuck was goin’ on with the case,” I reply, staring the man in his eyes.

  “Not much to tell. I’ll know more once we get into the courtroom. Shouldn’t be long now, the judge is almost finished with the current case, and then you’re up,” Anderson tells me.

  “Look, you get paid damn good money by the club. Why does it seem as if you’ve dropped the fuckin’ ball on my case? Who’s ridin’ your ass, Anderson?” I ask, letting my anger out in full force before we get in the courtroom.

  “Playboy, I’m doing my damn job. As far as I can tell, there’s no damn evidence against you and there’s only one witness. We just need to see how reliable the witness is before we make our case that your innocent,” Anderson says, completely ignoring my outburst.

  Yeah, it’s time for us to get a new damn lawyer. Anderson isn’t worth the money we pay him these days. At least, not in my opinion. I’d rather have someone who’s not afraid to step on toes and will do the work necessary to find out exactly who we’re dealing with. Not taking a chance he’ll see something in the courtroom no one else does.

  Before I can say another word, the court clerk comes in to get us. I’m lead to the courtroom and Anderson and I take our seats while the Prosecutor takes her seat across from us. I don’t look at anyone as we wait for t
he judge to enter the room. He must have left after the last case for a break. I don’t care as long as I get this shit sorted out today. Hopefully, this trial doesn’t drag out, but I don’t think it will with no evidence and only one witness.

  “Please rise for the honorable Judge Norse,” the clerk says as everyone in attendance stands while the judge gets to his seat.

  “All take a seat,” he says. “We’re here today for the trial of the state versus Griffin Busch on the charge of murder. Miss Landry, you may speak first.”

  The Prosecutor stands up and outlines the supposed crime I committed to the jury.

  “This man, Mr. Busch, murdered a man in cold blood in broad daylight. There is no remorse from the defendant and he hasn’t said a word to anyone about the events of the day. The only thing we know for sure is that Mr. Martinez was beaten to death outside of a vehicle. This happened in a neighborhood filled with homes. We have a witness who saw Mr. Busch commit this crime,” Miss Landry says, never once looking in my direction. “Mr. Busch is a member of the Phantom Bastards motorcycle gang and as you can all see, they’re in attendance today. These criminals are hoping for a not guilty charge and are here to intimidate you into pleading their way.”

  “I object,” Anderson says, standing up from his seat.

  “Miss Landry, you’re walking a fine line here. The entire club is not on trial here today, one person is,” Judge Norse says.

  “Nothing further at this time,” Miss Landry says, walking to her seat.

  Now, it’s Anderson’s time to speak. Let’s see what the fucker has to say in his defense of me.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we’re here today to determine if my client, Mr. Busch, committed a murder. There is no evidence against my client. The cops can’t even find the body of the supposed deceased. Miss Landry has one witness to this supposed crime and that’s all her case is based on,” Anderson says. “Yes, Mr. Busch is a member of the Phantom Bastards motorcycle club, and they are all in attendance today. They are a family and help out this community more than Miss Landry would like to admit. Listen to the facts presented to you and only those facts. Make your decision based on what you hear as fact and not Miss Landry’s obviously biased opinion.

  “And let it also be said, my client has been sitting in jail for multiple weeks awaiting trial without even a hearing for bail. That’s not how the judicial system is supposed to work ladies and gentlemen. He should have had a day in front of the judge with the opportunity to be released until today.”

  Anderson sits back down and for the first time since I got arrested, my entire body calms down. I relax in my seat and put my trust in Anderson to do his job. Maybe he’s done more than we realize. But, I still think we need to bring someone else in to help him or something.

  “Miss Landry, bring in your witness so we can move this along. And, I’m going to remind you to stick strictly to the facts of the case,” Judge Norse says.

  “Yes, your honor,” Miss Landry says, standing up once again. “I’d like to call Mr. Gentry to the stand.”

  The clerk brings in Mr. Gentry. He has him swear in before taking his seat in the witness stand.

  I look at the man before us, and I know how Anderson is going to play this. Mr. Gentry is an elderly man, who can’t be younger than seventy years old. He’s got thick glasses on his face and at least one hearing aid in his ear. I’m not sure about the other ear because I can’t see it with the way he’s sitting.

  “Mr. Gentry, can you please tell us what you were doing the afternoon of the day in question?” Miss Landry asks.

  “Yes, ma’am. I had just made a ham sandwich with some potato chips for lunch before going back to my living room to eat. I was sitting in my chair watching TV as I ate. Just before the weather came on, I heard a scuffle outside and got up to look out my window,” Mr. Gentry says.

  “What did you see when you looked out the window?” Miss Landry asks him.

  “I saw a man standing outside of an SUV with a phone to his ear,” Mr. Gentry answers.

  “Is that all you saw?” she asks him.

  “No, I saw a pair of feet sticking out of the front of the vehicle,” Mr. Gentry answers.

  “That’s all you saw?” she asks him again.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he responds.

  “No further questions,” Miss Landry says, walking back to her seat with a smirk on her face.

  I don’t see what she’s so happy about. Him seeing a set of feet sticking out from the front of the SUV doesn’t prove a damn thing. At least not to me.

  “Mr. Gentry, how are you today?” Anderson asks, standing up from his seat.

  “I’m doing okay. Thank you,” Mr. Gentry answers.

  “So, you didn’t see a fight or anything take place after getting out of your chair?” he questions.

  “No, sir.”

  “Is it possible they had car trouble and the feet you saw on the ground were simply a man looking under the SUV to try to diagnose the problem?” Anderson asks.

  “Well, I suppose that could have been the case,” Mr. Gentry says.

  “Now, Mr. Gentry, I see you wear glasses. Did you have them on when you looked out your window?” Anderson asks him.

  “Yes, sir I was.”

  “Thank you. Do you see the man standing by the SUV on the phone in this courtroom today?” Anderson asks him.

  Mr. Gentry looks around the courtroom for several minutes. He looks right past me at least two or three times before turning his attention back toward Anderson.

  “No, sir, I don’t see him,” Mr. Gentry answers.

  Everyone is so quiet; you can hear a pin drop. I look over toward Miss Landry and she’s pissed. Her face is beat red and I can see a vein pulsing in her neck. I smirk in her direction before facing forward again.

  “Now, you recall what you had for lunch and that the weather hadn’t yet come on the news. Are you sure you don’t see the man from that day in the courtroom?” Anderson asks him.

  The man once again looks around the courtroom and his gaze stops on someone from the club, but it’s not me. I don’t even turn around to see who he’s looking at. Anderson does, though. So doesn’t the judge. If anything out of the ordinary were occurring, the judge would be speaking up right now.

  “No, sir. I don’t see him in the room today,” Mr. Gentry once again tells Anderson.

  “Thank you, Mr. Gentry,” Anderson says, turning to walk back to the table I’m sitting at. “Your honor, I’d like to call a mistrial. The Prosecution has no evidence and no witness to put him at the scene of the supposed crime. There isn’t even a body of Mr. Martinez, so we don’t even know if the victim in question is deceased or not.”

  For a few minutes, the judge says nothing. He steeples his hands and rests his chin on them. Miss Landry is steaming mad and I know it’s because she just lost this case. We’re just waiting on the judge to make the final call.

  “Mr. Gentry, you may step down. Thank you,” Judge Norse says.

  Everyone waits as Mr. Gentry steps down from the witness stand and the clerk leads him from the room. Once he’s gone, the judge looks directly at me.

  “Mr. Busch, I’m sorry you’ve been in jail for so long while the Prosecutor was trying to find evidence against you. That should have never once happened. It won’t happen again in the future,” Judge Norse says, looking at Miss Landry. “Due to the fact there’s no evidence of a murder even taking place, Mr. Busch, you’re free to go. You’ll go back to jail, collect your personal belongings, and then be released.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for your time today. You’re dismissed.”

  Judge Norse slams his gavel down and stands from his seat. He leaves the courtroom as my family explodes in applause and joy. Miss Landry stands from her seat and casts a heated look in my direction. She’s pissed as fuck, and I’m about to hear it from her.

  “You may have gotten off today, but you won’t in the future. I’m making it my mission to put e
very single one of you behind bars. For life,” she says before picking up her briefcase and stalking from the room.

  “Well, I guess we’ve been put on notice,” I say to Anderson. “You might want to do somethin’ about that.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Anderson says, picking the papers up in front of him and placing them in his briefcase.

  “Son, we’ll meet you at the jail. I’ll have your cut and bike there waiting for you,” my dad says as the guard from the jail leads me from the courtroom.

  We head back to jail, and I smile the entire way. I’m finally fucking free and can go home. I can get my girl and son back home where they belong. Knowing I’ll never have to worry about this shit again is a relief, and a load lifted off my shoulders. Now the only thing I have to worry about is getting Sam and Caleb home where they belong.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sam

  GOING IN TO work today, I decide it’s time to talk to Carson about my pregnancy. Since the girls left yesterday, I’ve been getting sick. Morning sickness is now in full effect, and I spend more time in the bathroom than doing anything else. Even Caleb is worried about me, and I can’t tell him what’s going on because he’ll let it slip with the girls.

  When I first got to work, Carson wasn’t here. He has an appointment, so I force it to the back of my mind and get busy waiting on the tables in my section. It’s not long before I have to run to the bathroom, though. I get there just in time to lose the little I managed to eat this morning before coming here.

  I go back to my section once I’ve washed up and used the mouthwash I carry with me. No one seems effected by my sudden disappearance in the least. So, I work until it’s time for me to take a quick break. The smells of the food and coffee have me constantly feeling sick to my stomach, and I know I need to let Carson know what’s going on. So, instead of getting something to eat, I head to his office.