He shook his head. “Nah, my ma—” his breath cut off in another groan. “My ma raised me.”
“And you’re just going to ignore Bear, who’s probably headed this way because Grey has eyes everywhere?”
His eyes widened. “Bear? Shit. Might as well kill me now.”
Carnage tightened his hold on Rick’s arms. “Maybe we save the killin’ for your ma, you little shit. She’s gonna be mad as hell when she finds out you attacked Grey’s Ol’ Lady.”
Molly’s mother had retired down in the Houston area not long after I lost the girls, and after battling several lengthy illnesses, had come to rely on her daughter more. Once, after too many drinks, Molly had admitted that Rick was spending too much time with a local gang, but I doubted even she knew just how bad his situation was. If so, she never would’ve left him alone.
The three of us jumped when the door burst open, flying into the wall with a resounding clang. Jamie was the first one through, the haunted look in his eyes a clear indicator that he’d been watching the cameras and had ridden like hell to get here.
He looked over to where Hawk’s body hung limply from the ropes and then back over to Rick before his gaze came to rest on my face as if asking, you good?
I nodded with a sigh as Bear walked in. The minute he saw who it was, his gaze darkened, and he approached with clenched fists. “You went runnin’ back to the fuckin’ gangbangers after your mama begged you to stay, didn’t you? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, son, do you know the kind of trouble you’re in?”
“You aren’t my real dad, so you can stop pretending for your friends.”
Jamie stepped forward and jerked Rick’s chin up toward his. “You show some goddamn respect when you’re talkin’ to your old man—”
“¡Vete a la chingada!” he snarled. “My old man was murdered, and I’m not stopping until I find out who it was.”
I winced when Jamie grinned, knowing it wasn’t going to end well for anybody.
“Well, guess what? You found him. I sent your father to the Reaper. Wanna know why?”
“My father’s uncle said he was murdered in cold blood,” Rick said quietly, sounding less like a vicious thug and more like a scared little boy.
“Cold blood? He found out your mama was knocked up with you and cut her belly open before leavin’ her to bleed out on the floor. Did the world a favor when I put him down.”
Rick’s chin moved toward his chest, but Jamie forced his head back again with a low growl. “You ain’t a man. You might’ve acted tough when you laid hands on my Ol’ Lady but look at you now; pissin’ your pants like a baby. Way I see it, Silent Phoenix owns your ass now. Two options…”
He held up two fingers. “You can either give up your gangbanger amigos and work for me, or you can keep up the shitty teenager bullshit you got goin’ on, and I’ll send you back to your buddies in pieces.”
As much as I wanted to intervene on Rick’s behalf, I wouldn’t disrespect Jamie. Every action had a consequence; I just hoped he made the right decision, so he lived long enough to regret his.
“Don’t be stubborn, boy,” Bear begged him. “For once in your fuckin’ life, do the right thing.”
Jamie added, “Before you answer, I got one little thing to add. That man behind me? He stepped the fuck up and raised you as his own. I might’ve ended your father, but that man’s been your daddy. So, you choose option one, there ain’t gonna be any more disrespect. Am I clear?”
Rick sniffed and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Jamie clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, you gonna tell me what I want to know, or am I carvin’ you up first?”
Sweat ran down the sides of Rick’s face. “I’ll tell you everything you wanna know. I’ll pledge to do whatever you need, but could we take a second to fix my leg first?”
His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped forward with a soft sigh as Jamie looked down to where blood was pulsing steadily from the wound in his thigh.
When his eyes met mine in question, I shrugged. “May have forgotten to mention that I stabbed him.”
“Jesus, Celia.” He ran a hand over his face before waving Bear over. “Call Eli, get him put back together. If he gives us what we need, send in one of the club whores as a gift.”
He pointed at me. “You. Outside. Now.”
I watched him through narrowed eyes and waited for the other bikers to leave before marching toward the stairs, bracing myself for the lecture that was inevitably headed my way.
The day’s events played at high-speed in my head, and I rubbed my forehead in frustration. Between arguing with Ryan, getting mouthy with Jamie, fighting off Mikey’s advances, and cursing at the guy from Hub City, I’d also managed to commit a murder and a stabbing just to round things out.
I’d be lucky if he ever let me leave the farmhouse again.
“Heard you visited with Cueball this afternoon.”
I froze, halfway up the stairs, and slowly turned around. “Cueball?”
He took the stairs two at a time until we stood at the same level. “Owner at Hub City.” His hands went around my waist, leading me up against the wall.
“Look, I know you’re mad—”
Ignoring the fact that I was still covered in blood, he lowered his head and silenced my objections with his mouth before growling, “I ain’t mad. Your actions caught Hawk, and then you just casually stabbed Molly’s idiot son—fuck, princess. You’ll be runnin’ the entire club before long.”
His lips trailed down my neck, and I shuddered, gripping his vest in my fists. “That’d—”
He shredded the neckline of my t-shirt and looked up at me with a smirk before sucking one nipple into his mouth while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger.
Pleasure flooded my body, making my thoughts hazy and hard to grasp, but I managed to fight through the fog to moan, “That’d make me a queen… not a princess.”
Jamie’s lips moved off my breast with a soft pop, his eyebrows drawn together. “Is that right? And who the fuck is in control right now?”
I lifted my chin with a confident grin. “Your motherfucking queen is.”
“That’s my girl.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Grey: 2013
“You remember the last time we were up here?” Slim asked as he blew the dust off an old cassette player.
I looked around the old apartment, struck by how little had changed over the years. Sure, Phantom had met the Reaper and Bear had taken over, but for the most part, the old body shop still looked exactly the same.
If Slim hadn’t come to town with Lou for her mother’s eightieth birthday party and to visit David, I doubted I would’ve had reason to ever come up here again.
“Shit, we had to have still been in high school.” I walked over to where a heavy wool blanket still hung on the paneled wall and lifted the corner with a low whistle. It was like opening a time capsule. “I’ll be damned.”
Slim hurried over. “Our porn stash is still here? Hell, I figured Bear would’ve thrown all this shit out.”
“Not just porn.” I held up a stack of my old comics. “These have gotta be worth some money.”
“Oh, I got somethin’ even better.” He went back over to the cassette player, and the soft strains from a synthesized guitar filled the room. Cranking it up, he dropped onto the worn-out bean bag chair with a contented sigh, and it was like we were kids again.
“Zeppelin? No shit. Don’t tell me, uh—” I wracked my brain and nodded along to the beat, trying to place the song. “Fuck, what was this one called? Album was Physical Graffiti—‘Custard Pie.’ Right?”
Slim lit up a joint and leaned back, exhaling a stream of smoke. “You fuckin’ cheated by waitin’ til the chorus to answer. God, why’d we ever leave this place?”
“Life happened. You had to run off and get married and have a baby. Not only that, but you set the bar so fuckin’ high that the rest of us have never been able to
compete.” I pulled a cigar from my pocket and lit up just to keep my hands busy.
“The fuck you talkin’ about?” he asked as the next track began playing. “What do I have that you don’t?”
I puffed on the cigar and spun the skull ring on my finger before sinking down onto the chair next to his. “It’s just—you always seemed to know how to do it right, Slim. You married Lou and kept her safe. You had David and from what I’ve seen, kid’s fuckin’ perfect—”
“Perfect? Is that what you think my life is?”
He stood up and took another drag. “I pushed my son to work hard for the things he wants, only to find out this weekend that he’s a goddamn workaholic. Elizabeth looks like she’s ready to throw in the towel, and I’ve been scratchin’ my head, wonderin’ where it was I went wrong. I’ve loved his mother from the moment I laid eyes on her, but maybe I didn’t make her enough of a priority in his eyes.”
“Shit, if you didn’t make your Ol’ Lady a priority, then I guess we’re all fucked. So, David is tryin’ to find the balance between bein’ a husband and a business owner. Least he’s not out fuckin’ around.”
Slim shook his head with a chuckle. “Mike still ain’t got his shit together? I’m callin’ it right now. There’s gonna be a woman that does a fuckin’ number on that kid and settles his ass down. When that day finally comes, you’ll call me up to tell me I was right. No, wait… you’ll ride your ass down south and take me out for a steak dinner.”
“Fat chance of that, fucker. Kid’s liable to end up in the ground with the way he goes after married women. Between him and the fact that my daughters think I’m dead—shit. You ever wish everything would just fall into place at the same time?”
“That’s human nature, my friend. We set out with this perfect goal in mind, only to find out that the course to reach it is constantly changing.” He took another drag and exhaled. “Best you can hope for in the end is that your kids grow up to be decent people.”
I blew a smoke ring up toward the water stains on the ceiling tiles. “David will figure it out, trust me. You walked away from club shit when your family needed you. That part of you is in him.”
“Always dividin’ my time between my business and the club, poor kid must’ve thought I worked all the fuckin’ time,” he mused. “What about you, Jamie? What parts of yourself do you see in your kids?”
I frowned. “You know I ain’t high, right? This feels more like the kind of conversation you have when you’re fucked up—”
“I’m serious.” He sat back down. “When you look at them, what do you see?”
“Mikey—well, Mikey is just like his old man—”
Slim held a finger up. “I’m gonna stop you right there. You ever looked at Mike and saw the part of yourself that believed he was invincible? That’s what I always thought about you when we were kids. Seemed like nothin’ could take you down.”
“Yeah. Given how shit has gone, I think life took that as a challenge.”
“I know you wanna believe the kid’s a lost cause, but he ain’t. He just needs a little guidance—”
“A little?” I interjected. “Had to call in a fake tip to the crime line in Galveston just to get him to stop drinkin’. I know for a fact that he’s hit on my girl before but can’t tell you if it’s because she’s a fuckin’ knockout or if he really just hates me that much.”
“Maybe the apple don’t fall far from the tree,” Slim pondered, drumming his fingers across his lap to ‘Kashmir.’ “Maybe he sees the life you have, and he’s jealous. Think about it, Jamie. Despite the mistakes you’ve made, you still have a better life than anything he ever saw growing up. Maybe you’re his Slim.”
“Never said I was jealous of you, asshole. Just said I felt like you’ve always had your shit together. Don’t get it twisted.”
He took another hit. “Yeah, to me that sounds like jealousy. Now, you gonna let me make my point or not?”
“Wish you’d get it the fuck over with. I’m gettin’ gray hair,” I muttered.
Slim’s eyes were half-open, the joint dangling from his lips while he nodded his head to the music. Clearly, he’d found the sweet spot and was fully relaxed without being impaired. “You gotta tell Mike the truth. I’ve been thinkin’ about the shit with David. He might make bad choices, but he’s always known that I’m a phone call away. In fact, I’m thinkin’ I’ll get through the rest of the weekend and give him a call when I’m back home, see if I can help him get his priorities straight.”
When he fell silent, lost to the faded Farrah poster on the wall, I waved a hand in front of his face. “You gonna finish that in a way that makes sense or—”
“Mike don’t have someone to call when shit’s spinnin’ out of control, Jamie. You think Comedian is gonna offer any quality advice? If he can’t snort it, shoot it, or fuck it, he ain’t interested. You’ve gotta be that person for him, and when the time is right, you tell him who the fuck he really is.”
I thought it over. “You really think he could ever settle down? That he and I could ever have a solid relationship?”
He mulled it over with a slow nod. “I saw the way he looked at you when he was a kid. He wanted you to be his dad—shit, I bet there were times he even let himself pretend that you were. Right now, though? He’s angry because his hero is forcin’ him into a life he don’t want.”
I picked at the leather on the bean bag chair. “I didn’t know what else to do. He was comin’ after the club—”
“You’re not hearin’ me. Might not be the life he would’ve chosen for himself, but it’s the one he needs. Even if he don’t know it yet, kid’s been searchin’ for a family his whole life. You and I know that when shit goes down, there’s no better support than your brothers.” Slim ran a hand over his face before continuing.
“He may never wear a kutte, but he needs to see the good side of the club. If you’re just gonna call him in when it goes south, then you’re missin’ out on a relationship. You gotta help him remember the man he grew up worshiping; not by tellin’ him, but by showin’ up when he needs you.”
It made sense.
I’d thought tough love was the only way I’d get through to him, but it had pushed him away. Mikey didn’t want to be indebted to some club; he wanted to belong.
“You want me to go ahead and tell you that you’re right, or wait a few years to keep you humble?”
He scratched at his beard. “You know I think I’d like a plaque; somethin’ I can hang on the wall in my office that commemorates the day Jamie Quinn listened to reason.”
I flipped him off with a smirk. “Well, you’ll be waitin’ til hell freezes over for that one.”
* * *
My cell phone vibrated across the nightstand, the buzzing intensifying with each pulse. I’d stayed up late again, searching the internet for anything related to Saint—churches, other MCs—I’d even looked into a Saint Anthony’s preschool. We’d been chasing leads on Cobra for over three years, but no one seemed to know the elusive Saint.
All we had to go on was Hawk’s word, but it wasn’t as if we could bring him back to tell us more. The things he’d given up before falling on the sword were vague and cryptic at best.
I closed my eyes when it stopped and was close to drifting off when it started up again. With a groan, I rolled over and fumbled blindly for the phone before bringing it up to my ear. “This better be important—”
“Jamie?” The voice cut off in a sob, and I sat up, suddenly wide awake.
“Lou? What’s wrong?”
She hiccuped loudly. “It’s John. He—he had a heart attack—”
“Which hospital is he at? I can be down there—” I threw my jeans on and jogged into the living room, searching for the keys to my bike. It was a nine-hour ride under normal circumstances, but maybe I could cut it down to six if I pushed it.
“You can’t,” Lou wailed. “Jamie—listen to me. They did everything they possibly could, but—” Her voice cut off in anothe
r sob. “He’s gone.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I shook my head. “Slim ain’t gone. I just talked to him on the phone last night. He’s comin’ to help me fix up a house—just tell the doctors to work harder because—”
“It was just too much for his body to take, and I,” she cried. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do right now!”
I pulled myself together long enough to quietly say, “You don’t have to do a goddamn thing, darlin’. I’ll be down there by tonight… help you get everything sorted.”
“He was here… and then he wasn’t—I just want to wake up from this nightmare,” she moaned. “How am I supposed to tell David?”
I strode out onto the front porch, letting the screen door slam shut behind me before pacing from one end to the other, unable to sit down… unable to accept the truth.
My best friend was gone.
Grief barreled into my body, taking me down to my knees just as Celia ran out, eyes wide with panic. I thrust the phone into her hand and stumbled out into the orchard, unable to fight the heaviness settling against my chest like an anchor.
After my conversation with Slim, I’d gone out and bought Mikey an old farmhouse. I could’ve found him something in town, but if he was anything like his old man, I knew he’d need a place where he could get away from the constant noise.
I’d sold it to him through one of my dummy companies for next to nothing, knowing it’d be a project for us. Slim and David had offered to help, and between the four of us, we’d had plans to restore it. The bond between Mikey and I would’ve been strengthened while Slim and I relived our glory days of doing manual labor for the club.
I stared down at my hands, seeing the evidence from years of hard living, but somehow remained convinced that we were too young for this.
The first rays of sunlight broke through on the horizon, bathing the orchard in light, but it didn’t seem fair. I’d been courting death my entire life; had even come close on more than one occasion, only to be stopped at the last possible second by a man who’d refused to give up on me.
Protector: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Four Page 25
