Pope’s frustration shows when he shakes his head. “No. It’s like he disappeared.”
“Perhaps Bert and his men buried him?” Sparky offers.
If they did, it wouldn’t have been to help us out. It would’ve been because no one wants to be found with a dead fed in their company.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Pope
Two weeks later
You never know when your life is about to change irrevocably. You wake up in the morning, knowing death is a possibility. But most days, you wake up knowing this day will be basically the same as the day before. You run through your routines, and if you’re lucky, a curveball will be thrown into the mix to deal with, like a good old fight. But most days, the club is quiet and peaceful.
From where I sit, I have a clear view of everyone. Sparky and Ricky stand at the barbeque, grilling sliders and steaks. Cas sits with Alannah, Slade, and Kristen. He’s still taking it easy, but he’s healing, and it’s good to have him home where he belongs. Zachery and his old lady, Nina, are huddled together with their son on the picnic bench, while JJ and Harper disappear around the back of the clubhouse. No guesses needed as to why they want to be out of sight. Dex and Libby arrive, joining Cas. Dex’s bruises are nearly healed, and he keeps his arm around his woman, wanting her close.
Then there are my boys, Mason and Myles, with their women, and little Penelope, my great-granddaughter, sitting on the grass close to Leo and Rayna, the girl Ethan brought around sitting off to the side. And my granddaughter, Victoria, finally smiling, sits with her mom and Bonnie. Every person here is my family, and the reason I don’t let the aches and pains of old age bring me down. The only one missing is my Sal. It’s been too long without her now, and I grow heavier with grief not having her at my side. I wasted so many years keeping her in a different world, and I hate myself for not making her the centre of my universe twenty years earlier.
“Food’s up!” Sparky hollers. I remain in my seat, letting everyone get their food first.
Victoria grabs a paper plate as Luca cosies up to her, but she ignores the shit out of him when he tries talking to her. Not that she can fucking hear him.
I rest my hand on my gun. I have no intention of shooting him, but I could still scare the shit out of the little fucker if he doesn’t leave my granddaughter alone. I’ve seen him more and more, trying to get her attention, but she never gives him a single word in return.
Moving on, she makes her way toward me. Leaning to the side, I see Luca Jackson narrowing his eyes at her back. Sitting at my table, she places the plate filled with sliders in the middle and points to them, and then at me.
I sign “Thank you,” and pick one up. Taking a bite, I set it back down and wipe my hands on my jeans.
“You want me to make sure little Jackson keeps his distance from you?” I say, signing simultaneously.
Shaking her head, she nibbles at her food, and I sigh. Regardless, I think I’ll be a having a little chat with Cas’s youngest after Victoria leaves. Someone in the bar turns the music up, and JJ and Harper’s laughter fills the air on their return to the cookout.
This is what the club is about: good times, shared with people you trust, people you call family.
“Hey, Grumps, you got something to eat?” Mason calls over. Sticking up my thumb, I tell him I’m good.
Nodding, he proceeds to swoop Penelope away from Myles and up onto his shoulders. Keeping hold of her tiny hands, he heads over, and I smile up at the girl.
“You feeling okay, old man? You look tired.”
“Old man? The fuck you talking about,” I grunt.
I am old.
Most days, I could do with an afternoon fucking nap, but family or not, I’ll never admit it to these fuckers. As long as I can still ride my bike, I’m good to go, and no one can stop me.
Mason’s laugh catches the attention of Aspen, who soon joins us. Before I know it, my table is filled with my family, and I feel Sally’s absence even more.
“Cops!”
Every brother shoots their attention to the prospect at the gate. Seconds later, police sirens can be heard, growing louder as they get closer.
“Looks like the entire sheriff’s department are heading straight for us.”
The club is on their feet, drawing their guns.
“Has anyone done anything that would warrant the whole department hammering down on us? Talk now, so we know what to expect!” Cas hollers, gingerly rising from his chair.
Brothers shake their heads in a sea of nos. The first cop car doesn’t come to a stop like you’d expect. Instead, it crashes through the gates and screeches to a stop, quickly surrounded by the rest moments later. Once the cars have stopped, as one, they spring out of their cruisers, their weapons drawn and trained on us.
The town’s new sheriff takes his time dragging his ass from the car while adjusting his belt under his overhanging belly.
“Put your guns down, or I’ll be forced to instruct my men to shoot. I see a lot of women and children who could get hurt.”
Mother-fucking-fucker.
This is the second time in the club’s history we’ve had the police rock up like this in full force. The last time was because they thought Sparky had killed Bonnie. A mistake that was quickly fixed when she showed up unharmed, and clearly alive.
“Last warning, Cas. Order them to lay down their guns, or we will open fire on everyone here.”
I look over to Cas, who looks at Alannah, and then around at the old ladies, the babies, and all the kids.
He has no choice, and I don’t blame him when he holds up his hand, signalling for everyone to give up their weapons.
When the cops don’t move, I inhale deeply. Having so many guns aimed at us, I need to keep calm and not let my instincts to take them down before they can get to us override my head.
“You must have good reason to show up like this?” Cas hollers, holding his side.
The sheriff steps forward, scuffing his boots through the dirt, feigning that he’s not sweating being here.
“I’ll be asking the questions, and now,”—he scans over us brothers—“anyone wearing a cut will lie facedown on the ground.”
Not one brother moves. When the sheriff glances over his shoulder, his men advance forward in formation.
Holding his hand up, they stop.
“Last chance. Lie facedown, or we will shoot.”
Sparky yells, “You can’t do that!”
The sheriff laughs. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Jerking his chin, Cas lurches forward, yelling for us to do what the sheriff wants. This is wrong. Then again, they wear the badge, so they can do as they like.
Brothers shuffle down to their knees, and then onto their stomachs. Alannah goes to help Cas down, but he shrugs her off, taking his time as he lies beside Sparky. Using the table for support, I take it slow, joining my brothers on the ground.
“Everyone else, you move, my men will shoot. This will all be over soon if your men cooperate.”
The sheriff’s boots come into my line of sight before moving on. Walking the line we’ve formed, he crouches down next to Cas.
“You’ve been out here for many years, keeping your business away from our town. Rumours circulate, and they’ve been ignored because you haven’t brought trouble to the good people of Willow’s Peak. But you’ve gone and done wrong by leaving someone alive to give you up. Someone in your club beat and tortured Preston Knowles, and he died last night after giving a statement that it was a Lost Soul who kidnapped him. So let me make this clear: you will not get away with murdering an ex-federal agent. You will all stay like this until the one responsible gives himself up. I have nowhere to be, and I’m prepared to stay here for days, weeks, if necessary.”
The fucking fed coming back to bite us on the ass. We should’ve expected this. His body would’ve ended up somewhere, and now we know it was the cops who found him. And he stiffed us because he knew full well it wasn’t us who gra
bbed him, hurting him so bad it killed him.
“We have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cas growls.
Snorting, the sheriff rises to his feet. “Of course you don’t. Maybe one of your women knows something.”
Brothers down the line start to move, but one of the cops fires off a shot, and fear for the old ladies’ lives has us staying in place.
“Alannah Jackson, you’re looking well. Give us a name, and you can get back to your little party, or whatever this gathering is.”
She says nothing. I can’t see what’s going on from my position, as the bench blocks my view of everyone to her left. It’s not until I hear his boots crunching against the gravelled ground that I know he’s close.
“What a cute kid. It’d be a shame if she lost her daddy, wouldn’t it?”
Twisting my head around as far as I can, I see the fucker is talking to Emma as he strokes my great-granddaughter’s cheek.
Emma pulls the kid away from him, and Myles jumps to his feet, stepping between the sheriff and his family.
“Touch my family again, I’ll cut your fucking hands off,” he threatens.
One of the cops breaks away from the rest and rushes toward Myles, causing Mason to jump up and stand side by side with his brother.
The sheriff smirks coldly. “Did you just threaten me, boy?”
“You’re damn fucking right I did. No one touches my kid, especially a fucking pig.”
Cas yells at the twins, and Penelope starts to cry. Cops shout for calm while my boys stand back, readying themselves for a fight.
I woke up this morning expecting it to be just another day with my brothers. I didn’t foresee my life changing irrevocably. As I lie with my cheek brushing against the ground, my family prepared to fight for their blood, my club facing backlash for a crime we didn’t, for once, commit, I know what I have to do.
It’s clear they’re not leaving without someone in cuffs, and the longer this goes on, the more chance someone will be hurt for not abiding by the sheriff’s tactics. I’ll be damned if I let this club get dragged down into the pits, which is exactly what the sheriff is after.
Pushing up to my knees, I use the bench to fully stand and clear my throat. It gets the attention of my boys, and I jerk my chin for them to join the rest of the brothers. Myles falters, but beside Mason, they lie back down, keeping their eyes on me.
“It was me.”
The sheriff’s eyes widen, his jaw nearly hitting the ground. I’m sure he didn’t expect one of us to own up, hence his heavy-handed approach.
“Pope, lay the fuck down and shut your mouth!” Cas shouts.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Mason growls.
Myles roars, “He didn’t do shit!” but it’s no use.
I said what I said. Clearing my throat once more, I repeat, “I just told you it was me. Arrest me, or fuck off.”
Keeping my focus on the sheriff, he motions to the cops behind me. Placing my hands behind my back, I wait for them to cuff me.
They don’t keep me waiting long, and as I listen to the metal cuffs clink and lock into place, I feel nothing, knowing I’m doing the right thing.
“Thomas…” I tune out as the sheriff spews my rights, and make eye contact with Cas.
He’s pissed, and I don’t blame him. I’d be the same if one of them did what I just did. But when it comes to my patch, I will do whatever has to be done. Winking, Cas solemnly shakes his head, and eventually calls for silence.
I’m telling him to trust me, and he has enough respect for me to let me do this.
“Put him in the car,” the sheriff orders. Taking hold of my arms, two cops walk me to the nearest cruiser and throw me into the back.
Looking over at my brothers, I lean against the window to get a better look of my club and smirk. This has been my home for longer than I thought possible, and fuck me, if it hasn’t been the ride of my life. I’ve loved every minute, and I wouldn’t change a fucking thing.
The police station hasn’t been modernised in three decades, and strangely, it’s comforting. I certainly haven’t been modernised, and I have no intention of dipping into the new world where shit changes on a daily basis.
I’m booked and led to a cell. My cuffs are unshackled, and then I’m alone, left wondering how to play this. I guess I’ll find out soon enough when they haul me in for an interview.
Making myself comfortable on the cot, I rest my hands under my head and cross my feet. It’s going to be a long wait. But the longer this takes, the more time the club will have to handle shit on their end.
When you join the club, it isn’t just willingness to die for the patch. You have to be willing to do anything to save and protect the club. I’ve fought for my patch, and have nearly died a few times for it. I’ve had a long run, longer than any other fucker. Fuck knows where this Knowles business will land us, but I’ll do what I have to do in order to stop it from blowing back on the club.
Closing my eyes I go back to my Sally. Death comes for us all, but it never got to me before her.
I fucking hate hospitals. If my Sal doesn’t walk out of here, I’m killing every motherfucker in reach. She had a heart attack. One minute, she was cooking our dinner, and then the next, she was on the floor. I’d never been so scared.
“Do you know what I’m most scared of about dying?”
I look up to see Sal’s eyes are open, and I thank God. Reaching for her hand, I’m careful of all the wires as I say, “You’re not going to die, sweetheart.”
Ignoring me, as usual, she carries on. “It scares me to leave you alone. I know you, Thomas. If this is my time to go, it’s going to take what little humanity you have.”
“Listen to me, woman, you’re not…”
Weakly, and failing to lift her arm to shut me up, I close my mouth and listen.
“There are so few people you respect enough to take orders from and abide, but—”
“Sweetheart,” I growl. I can’t hear this.
“What I’m trying to tell you, Thomas, is that if this is it for me, you can’t shut down. Kyla will still need her dad, and Ricky… That boy is like a son to us. And our grandchildren, they love you so much. We both know you’ve got more to live for than we ever thought you get. They need you.”
“But I need you.”
A cop bangs on the bars, making me jump. “Your lawyer is here.”
Cuffed and led through the station, I’m shoved into an interview room where Banksy is seated. Another comforting sight. He’s as old as me, and a permanent fixture in my world. The cop locks my cuffs to the bar on the table, and once we’re alone, Banksy says, “Cas said to tell you you’re a son of a bitch, but he’s going to get you out.”
“Isn’t that your job?”
“We both know our ways are not the same.”
I smirk. Banksy ain’t so bad. Leaning forward, I say, “Tell me everything you know about this charge so far, and you tell Cas to let it run its course. Tell him to move the club forward.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cas
Draping my cut over the edge of the bathtub, I lift my shirt and look over my wound. It’s hasn’t opened, so I drop my shirt and turn on the faucet. Splashing cold water over my face, I stand and see Alannah entering the bathroom through the reflection in the mirror.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, picking up my cut.
Grabbing a towel, I dry my face and dump it onto the counter. Shoving my cut at me, she proceeds to straighten the towel and hang it on the holder.
“It doesn’t hurt to put things back how you find them, you know.”
Grinning, I shrug into my cut. “I gotta keep you busy somehow,” I goad, knowing I’m going to piss her off.
“You know exactly how I like you to keep me busy, but you’re ignoring my question. How are you feeling? That sheriff is an asshole. You shouldn’t have been down on the ground after just recently having major surgery.”
I’m aware of what I’ve been t
hrough, but like fuck am I going to let anyone outside the club see weakness from me.
Pulling her against me, I wrap my arms around her, resting my cheek on the top of her head.
“I’m good, babe. Believe me.”
Her chest deflates against mine, her sigh telling me so much more than her words.
“Pope did what he did for a reason. I don’t have a fucking clue what it is yet, but I trust him.”
“And I trust you.”
Leaning her head back, she kisses me. The feel of her lips on mine never gets old, and I’m just as hungry for her touch as I was the first time I kissed her.
“I love you,” I tell her, yet saying the words still isn’t enough to express how I feel about her.
She smiles. “I know you do.” Taking a shaky breath, she looks away from me.
Taking hold of her chin, I turn her head back. “What’s on your mind?”
“This business with the agent is going to change everything. I don’t know what to prepare for.”
Her worries are warranted. I’m not sure what exactly to prepare for, either. I’m just planning for the worst, and anything else can be dealt with. It’s lasted me well all these years, and I see no point in changing my ways now.
“Let’s go downstairs. We need to deal with Pope first, and everything else can wait.”
Reaching out and opening the door, I wait for her to leave first, staying close as we head down the stairs. When she stops abruptly on the doorstep, I follow her line of sight and see Leo sitting with Holly and Rayna, who’s laughing her little head off between them.
“What’s going on there?”
“He put a claim on her, and now she’s helping him out with Rayna.”
“He did what? Why haven’t I heard about this until now?” she shrieks.
I haven’t got the energy for an Alannah shitstorm right now.
“You’re going to leave it alone, babe. He made the decision, and I want to see how it plays out. He’ll wear my patch one day, so he’s got to start making the right choices.”
The Club Betrayal : Sons of Lost Souls MC - Book Eight Page 15
