Free Club Justice by Mara McBain Page A

He breathed a sigh of relief and sent up a silent thank you when Mox merely held the door open. Outside, Marchand paused awkwardly. “I will be back to pay for dinner, Ginny,” he called.
    “Consider it on the house, Officer,” Ginny answered, good humor lacing her tone and putting a sparkle in her eyes.
    Kramer ground his teeth together watching her step docilely under Zeke’s brawny arm raised in invitation. His forearm curved under his wife’s chin in a loose chokehold and she tilted her face up to accept his kiss. The bitch went from cougar to kitten with her husband. The light played off faint scar tissue. Brawer’s file said they had been married for twenty years. Kramer smirked wondering what year the big man had busted his wife’s cheekbone open, and if that had been the blow that had cowed her.
     
    Zeke leaned back in his chair at the head of the table as the waitress removed the scarce remains of dinner. Twirling a toothpick between his fingers, he pondered Kramer’s visit. The sawed off son-of-a-bitch was like a rat terrier, relentless. Ginny’s laughter drew his attention and he smiled watching her wrestle with Kat over possession of an origami crown Sambo had fashioned for their queen. Kat tossed it to Amber, instigating a boisterous game of keep away. Kramer hadn’t cared for Ginny’s sassy spunk, but the guys loved her for it and though few believed it, she knew when to rein it in.
    “He’s going to keep chafing at your ass until you crush him, bro,” Bowie rumbled beside him, eyes on the women’s play.
    “As many enemies as the rat bastard has made, I think you would be surprised at how few of them would have the balls necessary to put him in his place. That would track to my door pretty damn easy,” Zeke mused.
    “So, we get an outsider to do the job, making damn sure to have an air tight alibi,” Crux offered. Sambo nodded, his amber eyes glowing eerily in the flame of his ever present Zippo.
    Not a man at the table wavered as Zeke mulled over the tempting solution, but in the end he shook his head.
    “Every time he comes up empty he discredits himself. After a while, his accusations start to look like the ranting of a whack job reading conspiracy theories into the puzzle on the back of cereal boxes. For now we wait him out.”
     
    Setting The Lantern’s alarm, Ginny slid onto the big hog and wrapped her arms around her old man. A little thrill went through her as the Harley roared to life. Handling the bike as an extension of his body, Zeke let it roll out smoothly before accelerating. The thrum of pure power went straight to her core. Pressing close to his broad back, Ginny closed her eyes and lost herself in the freedom she loved so much. Feeling her need, Zeke opened it up as they hit the edge of town. She smiled as they left the suburbs behind and climbed into the rural hills. Hurtling through the night, they took the sweeping curves at breakneck speeds. Ginny tossed her head back. The wind whipped through her hair and scoured her skin.
    Zeke let the Harley roll to a stop on the overlook. The lights of Trinity were faint in the distance and at the moment so were his troubles. There was nothing like a ride to clear a man’s mind and put shit in perspective. It had been a ballsy move on Kramer’s part to come into Trinity. The tenacity the asshole showed would have been admirable under different circumstances. He stroked Ginny’s hand pressed against his ribs. Lacing his fingers through hers, his thumb flicked over the stone of her wedding band. So many things had changed in twenty odd years, and yet there were those that never would.
     
    “You want me to give my ol’ lady PLATES for our twentieth anniversary?” Zeke spat in disgust, lip curling. With everything going on and it being a major anniversary, he had thought to get Ginny something nice and he didn’t think plates were going to cut it. 
    “Not plates, sir, fine china,” the sales clerk corrected. His