by Davis, Jen
Kane’s mind raced as his eyes skimmed over the faces of his brothers, all lit with excitement. His father had them in the palm of his hand.
“I’m so proud of both my sons. Kane, who opened the door to this opportunity by setting up the hit—and Scott for mapping out a plan to turn this promise into reality.” More cheers. “Stand up, boys.”
Masterful. Now it looked like the whole family was on board.
Scott cleared his throat. “When Kane and I discussed the details earlier today, he brought up some good points, and I want to address any concerns you might have. Obviously, this is going to take seed money. We’ve got to purchase the products before we can sell them, and we haven’t exactly been rolling in cash lately.”
The men around the table nodded in agreement.
“Our first impulse was to take out another mortgage on the clubhouse, but the bank isn’t making it easy…which got us to thinking. We may not have cash, but we do have something valuable.”
No. Don’t say the guns, Scottie. Don’t say the guns.
“Guns.”
You dumb fucking fool.
“I’ve made some quiet inquiries and discovered the name of Sucre’s heroin connection. They’re willing to discuss providing our first shipment of product in exchange for a load of semiautomatic pistols.”
“Scott.” He said his brother’s name as a warning. “If we trade the guns for drugs, we won’t be able to pay the Russians.” Their gun suppliers would expect cash. No excuses. No exceptions.
Scott nodded and smiled as though they were reading from a script. “It’s what all of you are thinking, right? But the beauty is, we pay the Russians with some of the profits we make on the drugs and use the rest to buy more. In the meantime, I’ve got a guy who can show us how to make our own meth. It’s fucking cheap like you won’t believe. You can do it with cold pills, lye, fertilizer, and some shit we have right here in the clubhouse. If you dumb fuckers can follow the instructions I found on the internet without blowing us up, we can be in business tomorrow.” He poked the tip of his tongue through his toothy smile. “Play some more Devil’s Advocate, K.”
“The Russians are going to be pissed, Scott. Even if we can pay them back—”
“You mean when we can pay them back.”
Scott’s arrogant tone was digging under his skin like the needle of a tattoo gun. “If, when, it doesn’t matter. It’s their money, not ours, to gamble with.”
“Kane is right,” Malcolm boomed. “This is why any move we make must be done with complete discretion. I know most of us don’t socialize outside the MC, but if you do, it’s more important than ever for us to keep club business inside the club.”
“That’s not—”
“All in favor of taking over the cash flow we wrestled from that bastard bottom-feeder?”
A chorus of “ayes” shook the rafters. Kane was poised to vote no, but his father didn’t give him the chance.
“The ayes have it.” Malcolm nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”
Laughing and slapping each other on the back, the men filed out of the room. All but Malcolm and Scott were completely oblivious to his objections.
“You really thought you could push them against my wishes?” He fought the urge to jump at his father’s words behind him. “This is my club, Kane. Or have you forgotten?”
He faced his dad, who wore his club cut, the “President” badge on full display over his heart. The man lived and breathed the MC, and the brothers treated him like a god.
“I haven’t forgotten anything. But it sure seems you have. Like what happened to Kip’s club in Raleigh when he pissed off Sergei. They made him eat his own fucking eyes.”
“Kip was an idiot. He deserved what he got.”
“Yeah, because he was dumb enough to cross the goddamn Russians.”
“No!” Malcolm roared. “Because he was dumb enough to get caught.”
He clenched his fists at his sides. “I’m not willing to bet the lives of my brothers on the hope you’re right.”
His father’s eyes glittered with malice. “Then it’s a good thing it’s not up to you, isn’t it?”
Without another word, he went searching for Scott. He had to try one more time to make him understand.
He didn’t have to look far.
Scott stood in the hallway right outside the chapel door, leaning against the wall. Jeans bunched around his thighs, he leisurely pumped his hips toward the open mouth of the woman on her knees at his feet.
“You need something, K?” he asked, his rhythm never missing a beat.
Charlene looked up, her gaze challenging, as her cheeks hollowed around his brother’s cock.
“Nah.” He shouldered past the spectacle they both designed in an effort to get back at him for their perceived slights. They were wasting their time. It was just another Monday night at the clubhouse. “Knock yourselves out.”
Gritting his teeth, he stepped out the front door and nearly tripped over the prospect lighting up a smoke on the porch. The kid struggled to his feet, an apology falling from his lips.
He waved the guy off and kept heading to his ride. “Not your fault, man. Forget about it.” He stopped when the prospect put his hand on his shoulder.
“Kane?” The man shrank back when he turned to face him but found his nerve after a moment’s pause. “In the chapel, Malcolm said something I don’t understand.”
Trying not to take his frustrations out on the new guy, he simply raised his eyebrows.
“He said, um, everyone knows what happened with Wes. But I don’t. Know what happened, I mean. Is it okay for me to ask?”
Ah. His uncle. Everyone knew what he did, but no one talked about it. “He patched out.”
The prospect gasped.
“He got arrested, I don’t know, maybe twenty years ago. His probation officer rode him hard about the club, threatened to put him back inside if he didn’t cut ties. So, he made a choice. He chose his freedom.”
The prospect said nothing else; he shook his head as he walked away.
That was the thing about patching out. A brother didn’t just leave the club, the club left him. Walking away made Wes dead to them all. He hadn’t seen his uncle since he was a kid. He didn’t know if the man was even still alive.
It was why he never thought about leaving, even when he knew the club was on the wrong path. Those men were his family. They’d been there for him when he needed them the most. They laughed together, partied together, and picked each other up off the floor.
Patching out was the ultimate betrayal. If he didn’t like what was happening in the club, he’d need to fix it from the inside, or else he’d be left with no family, no friends, and no hope of ever getting them back.
CHAPTER SIX
Kane
The back of Kane’s leather jacket pulled in Robby’s clenched fingers, as the man scrambled for purchase on the back of his motorbike. No chance in hell the guy would fall off, not with the death grip he had going. If this was how hard he held on now, God knew what it would be like once the engine started.
“Nervous?” Kane turned his head to the side, catching a glimpse of pinched features on Robby’s normally cheerful face. “Is it the bike, or is it me?”
“Scared of you?” Robby scoffed, the tension melting from his face. He relaxed his hold a fraction. “Okay, maybe a little. When I first met you. Other than Brick, you’re probably the biggest guy I’ve ever seen in real life. When you mix in the tattoos and the scar…”
Yeah, the scar was kind of hard to ignore. But it was a part of him now, just like the ink covering both arms from shoulder to wrist.
Robby shrugged. “Then I realized, you can’t be all bad.”
He grunted, his finger hovering over the ignition button. “Gee. Thanks.”
“No, I mean it. Brick wouldn’t have chosen you as a friend if you were a bad guy. He doesn’t hang around with people like that anymore, you know?”
If Robby only knew how t
rue his words were. Not only did Brick keep bad guys out of his life, but the man had also led the execution of every one of them who posed a threat to him or the woman he loved. He and Robby were probably the only people Brick had given a peek behind the curtain of his tough guy shell. Well, them and his girlfriend, Olivia.
“If Brick thinks you’re good people, I trust his judgment.” Robby had the voice of a true believer. “So, no, I’m not scared of you. I’m just—not great on two wheels.”
“I’ll keep you safe, kid. We’ll be there before you know it.”
True to his word, he got Robby to their destination in one piece. Brick now lived at Olivia’s apartment, since he’d left his old place—and his old life—behind.
He climbed off the bike, the rumble from beneath his thighs still echoing in his muscles.
As unsure as his passenger had seemed before they left, now Robby hopped off the bike like he’d been riding for years. “Are you sure he’s up to having company?”
Unbuckling his helmet, he pulled it off and hung it on the handlebars. Robby followed suit.
“I’m sure. He’s looking forward to seeing you. C’mon.” He led Robby to the closest door and rapped on the heavy wood, his hands still sheathed in his black fingerless gloves.
Hopefully, Brick’s recovery was going as well as he’d promised. His skin had looked a little gray when Kane had dropped by to return his money this other day. But Robby was worried about his hero, and well, seeing was believing. At least, that’s what Brick said the last time they talked.
His hand was balled up to knock again when Brick finally opened the door. His buddy was barefoot, wearing a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants. Instead of sickly or fragile, Brick looked better than ever. His cheeks were rosy with color, his eyes sparkled, and he was…smiling.
Instead of waiting for either of them to step forward, Brick came out of the apartment and dropped his big hand on Robby’s shoulder. “I hear you’ve been worried about me.” The deep rumble and cadence of his voice made his Georgia roots unmistakable.
Clearly swallowing back tears, Robby nodded sharply. It was like the kid had been so prepared for the worst, he didn’t know how to deal with good news staring him in the face.
Keeping the grip on Robby’s shoulder, Brick led him into the apartment, Kane two steps behind. Olivia’s place wasn’t exactly girly, but it didn’t look like a man had ever lived there. The overstuffed blue sofa was covered with a mountain of pillows and a fluffy blanket where Brick must have been lounging in front of the TV.
Brick swept it all up and carried it back to what was presumably a bedroom, then returned empty-handed. “Sit down. It’s good to have some company.” Robby swiped a throw pillow wedged under the coffee table and hugged it to his chest as he settled on the cushions.
Kane glanced dubiously at the sofa where the kid settled in, then grabbed one of the chairs at the kitchen table and carried it one-handed back to the living room. Straddling it backward, he winked at Brick. “I know how you feel about snuggling up next to me.”
Chuckling, Brick rolled his eyes and sat next to Robby. “More like you know the furniture couldn’t support both of us at once.”
He tried to look innocent, but who was he kidding? “You’re looking good, brother.”
“I’m feeling good. I put in a bid on the house we wrapped up on Burgundy Street. We close in two weeks.”
“I’ll be damned. You took my advice.”
As Brick raised his eyebrow, he couldn’t help but preen.
“Don’t pat yourself too hard on the back. You might pull a muscle.” With a grin still on his face, Brick turned to Robby. “I’m sure you already knew. Everything seems to go by you first.”
Pink flooded Robby’s cheeks. “I did. Once I heard, I figured you must be doing better.” His knuckles whitened as he squeezed the cream-colored pillow. A moment later, he released it, balancing it on his knees. “I want you to know I…I prayed for you. Every day. I know it probably sounds stupid—”
“No.”
“—but I used to go to church all the time when I—before I moved to Atlanta. I always felt really close to God, even when, well, even when my church didn’t have a place for me anymore. So, yeah. I prayed for you, and I really wanted to come sooner, but I didn’t want to intrude.” His eyes dropped to the fingers he’d laced on top of the pillow. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me here.”
“Look at me, Robby.”
His eyes shot up at Brick’s command.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve your friendship or your loyalty, but I want you to hear me. You are always welcome.” Brick’s gaze was unflinching. “You don’t have any family, right?”
Robby opened his mouth, then closed it. He was silent a moment before he answered softly, “On paper somewhere, but no, not the way you mean.”
Kane locked his legs against the urge to squirm in his chair. No matter how fucked up his family was, he never doubted they would go to bat for him. He felt like an intruder, witnessing the stark look on Robby’s face and the answering gentleness from his normally ball-busting best friend.
“No family for me either.” Brick rubbed at the scruff on his chin, and a grin broke out on his face. “Now I’m making one. A family. Olivia’s going to be my wife. And you two jokers,” he said, gesturing between Robby and Kane, “you’re my brothers.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “If you’ll have me.”
Robby swiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I’d like that a lot.”
Please, God, don’t let the kid cry.
The mood hung heavy. Somebody had to break the tension. He snorted. “Are we gonna hug it out, ladies?”
“Fuck off.” Laughing, Brick snatched the pillow from Robby’s lap and beamed it directly at his face.
Ha. Too slow. He dodged it at the last second, and it thumped to the floor behind him.
“It was never like this with my real family,” Robby murmured.
“Like it or not, we are your real family.” He was surprised to find that he meant it. “Get used to it. You’re stuck with us now.”
Robby vibrated with energy as they said their goodbyes. The kid damn near glowed after Brick’s promise of family.
Kane hadn’t been the object of hero-worship from the young man that Brick was, but he’d be damned if he’d go back on his buddy’s word. His family had helped him through some of the worst moments in his life. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if he’d had to face it all alone.
How long had Robby been on his own?
He shook off the question as his Harley roared to life. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t alone now, and he wouldn’t be again.
Family. Fuck. He was still pissed as hell at the shit his father and brother had pulled the night before, but it wasn’t like anger was going to help anything now. He’d been outplayed, and the club had voted. Even if he would’ve had the chance to cast his vote, it would’ve been overruled. He’d have to live with it. At least for now.
Clearing his mind, he allowed himself the simple joy of the road. He’d had a lot of issues with the MC over the years, but riding had never been anything but a pleasure.
All too soon, they arrived back in Decatur, their lunch hour having stretched well past the ninety-minute mark. It was just as well. No one else appeared to be around either.
His eyes tracked over the house and the curb where the crew usually parked. “Did everybody make a break for it?”
“Nah. I think the new guy is starting today. He’s a friend of Cy’s. They served together in Afghanistan. I’m pretty sure Cyrus and Xander are picking him up from the main office where he’s finishing up his paperwork and taking him for his drug test. All the H.R. stuff.”
“A new guy? They’re not replacing Brick and Will.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.
“Oh no.” Robby swiped his clipboard from the pile of sheetrock still in the garage. He carried the thing around the site like a security blanket. “He’s an add-on.
And I think we can thank Brick he’s here. It’s a big deal he’s buying the house on Burgundy. The company really needed the cash.”
The information didn’t surprise him. He’d heard Amanda ripped Xander a new asshole a few weeks ago about delays and how much it was affecting the bottom line.
“Between you and me,” Robby said quietly, “there was talk we might not even make payroll next week. But there is something in the works. I’m not in the loop yet, but I get the impression it’s something big.”
To take the company from not paying their employees to hiring an extra man. Yes, it would have to be something big. Maybe he should pay the visit to Mike he’d promised and get the low down. He really did need to go see his old friend.
He pulled his attention back to Robby. “That explains Xander and Cy. Where’s Matt?”
Robby flinched.
“Listen, I know you have a big-ass crush on the guy, but you have got to be able to keep it together when someone mentions his name.”
The kid’s face turned crimson. “Wow. Am I so obvious?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “You are. But you’re not the only one who feels this way.”
Robby’s eyes grew as round as saucers. “You have a thing for Matt too?”
He buried his face in his hands and waited a moment. Two.
Aw, fuck it.
His shoulders shook, unable to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside him. It came up from deep in his belly and echoed in the unfinished garage.
He chanced a glance at Robby, but the guy’s befuddled expression only made him laugh harder until, eventually, tears streamed down his face. Pulling off the bandana he had wrapped around his hair, he wiped his cheeks with one last chuckle. “Thanks, brother. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.”
Robby scowled. Kind of like a tiger cub, he was all growly but without a threatening bone in his body. “I take it you do not have a thing for Matt.”
