He immediately shook his head. “I’m a fucking cop, Grey. In what realm does that pan out?”
It didn’t.
In a perfect world, I never would’ve had to ask.
“Ain’t no alternate universe where you could do both. It’s one or the other—you’ve had to straddle that line for long enough.”
I can’t do this on my own, buddy.
Mikey sat back and scratched at his jaw. “I—I can’t just make a decision like that on the spot. I’ve got Lauren to think about. In your line of work, you don’t exactly make a lot of friends.”
I grinned. “Same could be said about your job as well. Just think about it and let me know. Why don’t you run on home and get some rest—I’ll wait here for updates.”
He stood up with a stretch. “Grey?”
“Yeah?”
“Tonight, with the wedding—wear a vest, okay?”
I froze. “You know something I don’t?”
Not today.
I wasn’t ready.
His shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Got it in good faith from Jeremy, uh, Jarvis that the mole is going to show up tonight. In a room full of cops, he’ll blend in perfectly. Just watch your back.”
A rat in my clubhouse. Moles hiding behind badges.
I had to keep my family close.
“You’re still going, right?” I asked, squeezing his shoulder again, needing the connection between us now that there were no secrets.
“Yeah,” he said with a smirk. “And I’ll be wearing a fucking vest too. I want to make sure we coordinate, dammit.”
Once he left, I wandered the halls of the hospital, unable to sit still. The stained-glass windows caught the first rays of sunrise, scattering colored light across the small chapel and drawing me in.
I sank down onto an empty pew and stared up at a large wooden crucifix near the front. Jesus’s arms were stretched above his body; his chin resting against his chest as if he was simply sleeping.
The perfect sacrifice.
Hadn’t that been what the church had beaten into my head as a kid?
When I was young, I recited the words and prayed the prayers, but it hadn’t meant jack shit to me then. As a grown-ass man, I still didn’t get it.
A father didn’t sacrifice his son.
Sure, I’d heard the anecdotes—an operator forced to raise a moveable bridge, all while knowing it would crush his only son who’d been playing where he shouldn’t have been but would save the lives of everyone on the boat below.
Fuck the people on the boat.
Fuck the Donald Quinns of the world who’d put their own needs above their children’s.
I wasn’t willing to lose one more person I loved. I’d climb up on that cross and sacrifice myself before I put them in harm’s way.
“Oh, hello,” the chaplain said as he entered. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“Father,” I nodded, still looking up at the cross. It was supposed to represent sacrifice and redemption, but all I saw was a man who’d been abandoned in his hour of need by someone he relied on; a man whose prayers had fallen on deaf ears.
He shuffled into the pew next to me. “Are you here to receive Holy Communion? I’m afraid you’re a little early, but—”
“I’m here for last rites, Father.” I turned to him. “Is that something you can do?”
“Absolutely. Now, normally, the nurses will page us, and we’ll come up to the room. I’m so sorry you had to leave your loved one’s side and come down here. If you wouldn’t mind sharing a little about them—”
I blinked back tears and looked away. “Ain’t for someone else, Father. It’s for me. Figure we better start with the confession… it’s been forty-two years since my last one.”
Sooner or later, your clock stopped, and that was it.
I’d managed to cheat Death once, but any luck I’d had ran out a long time ago. The best I could hope for now was that I’d go to my grave with a clear conscience and some legacy to leave behind for my family.
Growing up, Ma had always told me that death would come like a thief in the night. This time, I was going to be ready for him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grey: December 2016
I glanced toward the reception tables with a scowl while twirling my daughter in my arms across the dance floor. “Care to explain to your old man why Nate’s here?”
Dakota winced. “That was my toe again, Daddy. And, he’s here because he’s her Bucky.”
“No shit?” I looked back at him again, arm slung over the back of Kate’s chair, whispering in her ear. I clenched my jaw. “Him? Kota-Bear, thought we were on the same page about Dr. Douchebag.”
She gripped my hand tighter. “Did Mama never teach you how to dance? God of thunder, you’re killing my poor feet!”
Several couples turned their heads, and I adjusted the cheap plastic masquerade mask, feeling like Batman’s delinquent brother. “I’m doin’ the best I fuckin’ can right now, darlin’. Didn’t exactly host a lot of square dances at the club.”
Her nose crinkled up in amusement. “What’s a square dance?”
“Jesus Christ. So, you’re sure Nate’s her Bucky? Maybe she’s more of a Spiderman—”
Dakota snorted and stepped up onto the toes of my motorcycle boots. “Here. We’ll just do this. As for the Spiderman thing? Absolutely not. Kate was, and will always be a Black Widow. Maybe you need to reread the comics—oh! Did you know that Mama’s best friend is Little Ricky’s mom?”
I nodded, trying to keep up with her rapid subject changes while also watching the people around us for any sign of the mole. “I, uh, I did know that. Did you see that Angel and Wolverine were here?”
“What?” She screeched in excitement, leaving me almost deaf in my right ear. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Thought you saw them, darlin’.” I found Angel, watching the room from a corner, and waved him over. Dakota no longer cared that we hadn’t finished our dance as she hopped off my feet and threw herself into Angel’s arms. “I can’t believe it’s you! Nan, my grandmother, she told us you died.”
“Did she now?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at me from over the top of her head.
They’d shown up before the ceremony, begging to be let in. When Kate confronted them, Norma had denied taking the money, throwing Celia under the bus like she had hundreds of times before. It was only when I stepped in that she came clean, but I’d let them walk out alive because my daughter had asked me to show mercy.
Something Angel had disagreed strongly with.
“Dakota, I’m gonna find your mama, okay?”
She grinned. “Oh, I’m so sorry we didn’t get to finish our dance. I guess I’ll just have to dance with Angel here until I can find my new husband—did you see him? He looks just like Thor!”
“Oh, I saw him, sweetheart,” Angel chuckled. “He’s kinda hard to miss.”
Celia stood against the bar, holding a still full glass of champagne in her hand. “Anything?”
I shook my head and pulled her into my arms. “Dance with me.”
The corner of her mouth tilted up. “You know, I seem to recall that not being something you’re the best at—”
I hated every second of shuffling my feet around, but the dance floor was the perfect vantage point without being obvious. I patted her ass with the palm of my hand and cocked my head as the next song started. “Let’s go, princess. Don’t leave me hangin’.”
She listened to it for several beats. “Jamie, I haven’t heard this in years.”
“Know you’re more of a George Michael fan, princess, but this’ll have to do.”
Even with knowing what was headed my way, I took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor like we were two people without a care in the world.
“Why don’t they play ‘Silver Springs’ more?” Celia asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Fleetwood’s afraid that Lindsey and Stevie would end up killing each othe
r mid-song?”
“I bet you’re right,” she said with a laugh before resting her chin against my chest. The smile faded, and she jerked back in surprise. “Are you wearing a vest? Oh my god, Jamie. Are they coming here?”
“Celia, just dance with me.” I tightened my hand on her waist, silently pleading with her to not make a scene. Mikey and Lauren were late, and I was running out of ideas as to who the mole was.
“Jamie,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “Tell me a story… something with a happy ending, please.”
Stevie’s voice rose to a howl, and I lifted my eyes, scanning the room again for anything I might’ve missed. Almost every one of my men was doing the same. My prospect, Alex, hung back by the bar, deep in conversation, but I didn’t miss the way his eyes moved over every person that walked up to order a drink.
“When I was a kid, I used to love sittin’ out on my front porch, listenin’ to the radio. I’d wait until the weatherman came on before hopping on my bicycle and ridin’ to the outskirts of town to watch the summer storms roll in. Thought I’d grow up to be a storm chaser or some shit.”
She watched me with wide eyes, and I paused to brush away a tear that had caught on her lower lashes before continuing. “You see, desert land makes it easy to see for miles. Where we’re at now though ain’t the desert, and this time I ain’t sittin’ back to watch it come to us.”
“What are you saying?” she asked quietly.
I took a deep breath. “I’m sayin’ what I should’ve said on Kate’s first birthday. We can’t fight these guys, Celia… not anymore. So, fuck the plan. Let’s kidnap the kids and run. You, me, Mikey, Lauren… the girls. Wolverine has a cabin in New Mexico we could hide out in… club can go underground until we figure out what to do.”
Celia’s lips pursed. “And the girls’ husbands?”
“Fuck,” I growled. “One’s a cop, and the other’s a doctor—”
“They’re family, and they’re coming with us,” she finished with finality.
Goblin stood up and stretched his arms overhead before nodding to me.
“I gotta go, princess. Grab what you need. We’ll leave in an hour.”
She caught the sleeve of my suit and tugged me back, placing her hand firmly in the center of my chest. “I don’t want you to go—”
I took her left hand and brought it up to my mouth, kissing just above her diamond ring. “Ain’t leavin’ you, darlin’. Never again. I just need to take care of a few things before we get on the road.”
Her thumb moved over my wedding band, and she swallowed. “Come back to me, Jamie.”
I dropped my head to hers, tangling my fists in her perfect curls before roughly taking her mouth with mine. My tongue slipped between her lips, and her fingers moved over my biceps, squeezing me to the point of pain. Reluctantly, I pulled back. “Love you, princess.”
She pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes and nodded. “I love you.”
I lowered my head and whispered, “Who’s in control?”
“We are,” she breathed with a resolute nod.
I found Goblin pacing the sidewalk just outside the event center, rolling up his sleeves with flared nostrils.
“Did we get somethin’?”
He loosened his collar before shaking his head. “Jarvis texted, said he hacked our mole’s computer and was going through his messages. El cabrón never came tonight. Someone tipped him off that we were gonna be lookin’ for him.”
“Fuck,” I growled, catching Goblin as he stumbled forward. “You drunk, kid?”
He held his thumb and forefinger a few inches apart with a nod. “Sí, because I’m so happy for Caparina.”
I made sure he stayed on his feet before taking off toward the parking lot. He bounced along behind me, making small talk about the wedding. I grinned at the appropriate times and responded as if nothing was wrong, but my head was spinning.
The mole had known not to show up because someone in my clubhouse had gotten to him first. I glanced back at Goblin as he patted at the air in front of him like it was a dog. He was out, for obvious reasons.
No, the guy who’d rolled over was someone with a motive.
I’d taken the club back from Bear after Celia’s attack, but never once gotten the impression that he’d held it against me. Plus, he’d been a patch longer than I had; if anyone knew what our colors meant; it was him. He might’ve had the motive but wouldn’t have destroyed the club from within to take it back.
If love was a motive, then Jarvis should’ve been a suspect, but turning on the club wouldn’t guarantee him Kate. Not only that, he’d been giving me solid intel and stood to lose his entire career if the club went down.
It had to be someone who had a motive and would benefit if Silent Phoenix fell.
I quickly ruled out Angel and Wolverine. The two had been riding since God was a boy and had made more than enough money for several lifetimes. One by one, I went down the roster, ruling out members for one reason or another.
When I got to Mikey, I paused. He’d been forced into club life by a man who’d lied about being his father. His motive for taking down the club might’ve been stronger than anybody else’s. And if my club disappeared, so did the crimes of his youth.
It wasn’t him though.
I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did.
Convinced I’d gone through every member, I stumbled when it hit me.
The one man with the motive and means. I knew who my rat was. I should’ve known all along. The biker who should’ve been a brother but had always been an enemy.
Comedian.
I’d been looking at it the wrong way; trying to figure out who would have the most to gain financially.
It was never about money though.
It was about revenge.
I’d just opened my mouth to tell Goblin when something shifted. The air around us felt as if it was suddenly charged with electricity, and I glanced up, expecting to see lightning. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but the hair on my arms stood on end, warning me that I was in danger.
A black suburban turned into the parking lot, engine revving and tires slapping against the pavement as it barreled toward us. Time seemed to slow down, drowning out anything other than the steady thumping from my chest and the sounds of my heavy breathing.
Goblin’s mouth fell open, and his hand dropped to his hip as the tinted glass on the vehicle rolled down with a hum. A rifle moved through the open window, a ring on the shooter’s hand glinting from the streetlight overhead as he shifted into position.
Only one of us was wearing a vest.
I didn’t hesitate, knocking Goblin off his feet as a deafening crack of thunder pierced the surrounding silence, echoing around us until I was convinced we were surrounded on all sides. My back ignited, the flames bursting through the front of my chest like a fireball, dropping me to my knees against the asphalt.
The scent of gunpowder and burning flesh filled my nostrils as I collapsed onto Goblin with a sharp exhale, knowing the next explosion would be the one that sent me to the Reaper.
Only, it never came.
Tires screeched against the pavement, and smoke from the rubber coated my lungs, choking me with the knowledge that I was a dead man. The vehicle roared out of the parking lot and sped off, the sounds growing fainter until the air fell silent again. I’d prepared for everything but a slow death. I should’ve known that a monster like me would be forced to suffer before being sent to hell.
Goblin moved me onto my back, and I looked up at the stars with a grin, consumed by a memory that hadn’t taken place in this lifetime.
Maybe that was what the Reaper did.
Showed you how things could’ve been had you made different choices. It was like something out of a Dickens novel, only I wouldn’t wake on Christmas morning to right my wrongs.
“You see those, Mikey? They’re called constellations.”
“Daddy,” he said with a grin, displaying a mouth f
ull of missing teeth. “Those are stars.”
I squeezed his little body and pulled him onto my lap. “The stars create a picture when you put them together. See that one?” I traced the sky with my fingertip, his blue eyes tracking my every movement. “That’s Perseus. If you look hard enough, you can see the head of Medusa in one hand, and a jeweled sword in the other.”
His eyebrows drew together. “I see it, Daddy!”
“That’s my boy. He was a warrior who went up against the monsters and married the princess.”
Mikey stuck his tongue out. “Ew, I don’t want to have to marry a princess. Kissing a girl would be worse than fighting monsters!”
I tickled along his ribs until he was squirming. “Is that so? You gonna tell your mama that when she tucks you in tonight?”
He pulled his chin onto his chest and hunched his shoulders with a giggle. “Daddy, Mama doesn’t count as a girl. She’s just a mom!”
“Is that so? And what about your sisters?”
He scrunched his nose. “Katy and Dakota? No way! I’ll fight the monsters and keep them safe, but I’m not kissing them. They have to find their own prince.”
“Boys, time to wash up for dinner,” Celia called through the open kitchen window.
“What if I wanna kiss your mama?”
He hopped off my lap with a shrug. “I guess, but don’t do it in front of me. That’s gross.”
“Mikey, someday you’ll realize that killin’ the monsters and fallin’ in love with a princess ain’t a bad gig. Maybe that’s all Perseus wanted… maybe that’s all any of us could want.”
“Sure.” He grinned. “When I’m a hundred.”
The vision faded, leaving me in darkness. If the Reaper wanted to torment me, he’d failed. I’d made a million mistakes, but even while dying, I knew that the things I hadn’t accomplished didn’t matter; they never had. I’d had the love of a woman I didn’t deserve and three kids who’d turned out better than I could’ve ever imagined.
Even if we’d never been under the same roof.
Wolverine had given me the name Grey but had failed to mention that Jean hadn’t just become more powerful as the Phoenix. She’d been corrupted; turned into something else. Something that made her a danger to the ones around her.
Protector: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Four Page 31
