“I guess it does,” I say finally.
A grin forms on his lips as he pulls the lollipop out of his mouth.
“I knew it.”
“I’m going to have to fly back to Texas and square shit away,” I tell him. “I think Scout already has an idea, but I owe him more than a phone call, so after we get a handle on this note business, I’m going to head down south. I’ll probably take Lydia with me, but I’ll talk to Riggs about that.”
The smile leaves his lips as he lowers his boots off the table and onto the floor. A sigh leaves his lips as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.
“The letter is a bunch of bullshit, kid. You know it, I know it and Riggs knows it too,” he growls, clearly agitated.
I study him for a moment, noting the stiffness of his jaw and the subtle way he rolls his neck as he cracks his knuckles. For someone who was smiling only seconds ago, it’s fascinating to watch him morph into a ticking time bomb.
“I’m taking it as Riggs told you about his altercation with the postman.”
“Fucking idiot,” he huffs, shaking his head. After a moment, he leans back and sighs before continuing. “You know, I get it, I know he’s terrified, but we need to be smart about this. The fact that we got nothing is driving me mad. I don’t like being in the dark, Bash. I don’t like being caught off fucking guard.”
I don’t know what to say to him. All I’ve ever been is a prospect. No one has ever filled me in on club business and I don’t remember a time when Scout was ever so raw and honest with me about his concerns.
The doorbell sounds and one of the boy’s dashes to answer it, but Wolf is quick on his feet.
“Robert you don’t answer the door without an adult,” he reprimands, blocking the little boy from taking another step. “Go to Bash,” he orders just as Riggs appears from the kitchen.
“What’s going on?”
“Your son was just about to open the door, that’s what’s going on,” Wolf growls. “Don’t they know not to do that? That anything can happen?”
“Whoa, Wolf, calm down,” Riggs defends.
“Come here, Robert,” I say, as I stand and fix the button on my jeans. “Why don’t you show me how to play this video game?” I suggest, pointing to the Nintendo Switch on the table.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Wolf shouts. “With everything going on, he shouldn’t be answering the door.”
“What’s going on?” Lauren questions from the dining room table.
“Nothing,” I say quickly. The only thing that could make this situation worse, is Lauren getting wind of the note and Wolf looks like he’s teetering on the edge of madness. “Hey, you know what? Can I have some more of that tiramisu, Lauren? Maybe some cheese or whatever.”
“I thought your stomach bothered you,” Lydia says.
“I’ll live,” I reply, glancing over my shoulder at the two men standing off in front of the door. The bell sounds again, and Riggs breaks the stare down. Stepping around Wolf, he pulls open the door and Pipe enters the house with a grim expression on his face.
“Bash!” Robert calls. “Come on I’m going to teach you how to play Mario Kart.”
“Not now kid,” Pipe mutters, eyeing Wolf. “We need to talk.”
Those four words change the energy of the room and suddenly everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Riggs, orders Robert to go to his mother and calls up the stairs for Eric. The older cub comes bounding down the stairs dressed like a ninja and starts straight for Pipe.
“Uncle Pipe! Look, at my moves,” he cheers. No one has a chance to tell the kid his Uncle Pipe isn’t in the mood to entertain his karate moves because Eric jumps right into them. Spinning around in a full circle, he does some weird motion with hands and kicks his leg up, clipping Pipe right in the balls.
“For fuck’s sake!” Pipe bellows.
“It worked!” Eric exclaims. “I’ve been practicing that move for weeks.”
“Good job,” Riggs praises, patting his son on the back. He smugly looks back at Wolf. “Tell me again why my kids can’t answer the door?”
Hunched over, clutching his balls, Pipe glares at Riggs.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he hisses as his whole face contorts with pain.
Wolf takes Eric’s hand and passes him off to his grandmother, before snapping his fingers at me and ordering us all to follow him into the kitchen. Pipe is the last to enter the room and before Wolf can give him the third degree, he tells him to sit and pours him a shot of whiskey.
“That should take the edge off,” he says, pushing the liquor in front of him.
“You think? How bout I kick you in the balls and we see?” Pipe mouths off, turning his beady eyes to Riggs. “Couldn’t sign the kid up for baseball, could you? Had to make him some fucking Tai-Kwon-Do expert.”
Riggs holds up his hands in defense.
“Hey, blame it on Bianci. He’s training the kids to be MMA fighters.”
Pipe rolls his eyes and lifts the glass, knocking back the shot. Draining the glass, he turns his attention to me.
“Lydia tell you what happened with the car?” he questions, still clutching his balls.
“Yeah,” I reply, crossing my arms against my chest. “I just got through telling Wolf. From the way she described everything, it sounds like the tire blew out.”
He looks to Wolf and then Riggs, before shaking his head and pouring himself another shot. Lifting the glass, he swirls the amber liquid around before bringing it to his lips and downs it just as quickly as the first.
“That was no blowout.”
Narrowing my eyes, I take a step closer to him.
“What are you saying?”
He looks up at me.
“Someone loosened the lug nuts on those tires.”
That’s ridiculous.
“Man, have you looked at that car? It’s old as dirt. The poor thing probably hasn’t seen a mechanic in years.”
“Prospect, I’m telling you something,” he says, clenching his jaw. “Would you fucking listen? Someone intentionally fucked with that car. All the lug nuts were loose, and her anti-lock brake system was tampered with too. Did she mention the brakes not working?”
I rack my brain trying to recall the conversation.
“All she said was that she panicked and couldn’t get control of the car. She might’ve mentioned something about braking. Why don’t we ask her?” “Are you fucking crazy?” Riggs questions. “You say nothing, not a fucking word to her. The minute you tell her someone fucked with her car, she’s going to freak out, that’s why I didn’t tell Lauren about the letter. We’ll never catch these cunts if we’re sitting around trying to reassure our women they are safe.”
“They didn’t just fuck with her car, Bash,” Pipe explains. “Whoever did this was trying to hurt her, maybe even kill her.” He says it so bluntly that I feel as if he’s knocked the wind out of me and I stumble back a step as he slices his gaze to Wolf.
“I think you’re right,” he continues. “It may be time we pay a visit to whoever the fuck is in charge of the Sinaloa cartel now that Javier is locked up. These motherfuckers aren’t going to stop until they’ve got someone’s blood on their hands and by the looks of it, they want a woman’s. Fucking pussies,” he growls, reaching for the bottle of whiskey again. “What the fuck happened to this world? I miss the days where men fucking went after men, not their fucking families.”
“Hold the phone,” Riggs says. “Are we sure about this?”
“Oh, here we go again.” Pipe mutters.
“Hear me out,” Riggs insists. “Bash is a new and a prospect. He hasn’t put a claim on Lydia.”
“He doesn’t need to. Bash is irrelevant in all this,” Pipe argues. “She’s a target because she’s the one basically running our fucking clubhouse. You know, that’s why most clubs go with a warehouse and not a bar. Anyone can walk in, order a plate of wings and blow us all to Hell.”
“I resent that,”
Riggs fires back. “I have a state-of-the-art security system on that place that cost me more than your fucking garage is worth. In fact, if you’re so sure Lydia’s car was tampered with while she was working, I’ll prove you wrong.”
“Did I say it happened while she was working? I said, she’s a fucking target working for us. Someone could’ve easily followed her home and fucked with her car there. Doesn’t she live close to the bar?”
Still stuck on the idea of someone trying to kill Lydia, I pull out a chair and plop my ass down. I roughly pull the hat off my head and rub my temples.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” I ask no one in particular. Pipe is one hundred percent right, Lydia is an easy target for anyone looking to send a message and the scenario he just painted doesn’t sound so far-fetched, Here I am promising to keep her safe, assuring her no one will hurt her and all the while, she’s got a bullseye on her back because she’s associated with my club.
Lifting my head, I stare at Wolf.
“Don’t tell me I’m a prospect and dismiss me,” I warn. “If I have to claim her, I will.”
“No one is dismissing you, son,” Wolf says, snatching the bottle of whiskey from Pipe. He doesn’t bother with a glass, instead, he chugs that shit straight from the bottle.
“What would Parrish do?” Riggs asks.
Suddenly the bottle of whiskey goes flying through the air and crashes on the floor.
“God damn it,” Wolf roars. “Why don’t you fucking call him and ask him?”
“That was a hundred-dollar bottle of whiskey you just chucked,” Riggs shouts, pointing to the mess on the kitchen floor.
“Fuck off, Riggs,” Pipe warns before turning to me. “From this point forward, you’re off Kitten duty.”
“What about Lauren?”
“We’re going to have to get Bianci in on this,” Pipe replies. “Besides, ain’t no one going to protect her better than her brother—no offense,” he adds, looking back at me. “We’ll beef up the security at Kate’s, hire a couple of bouncers, but it would be wise if she stays with you until we get a handle on this. That a problem for you?”
I shake my head.
It’s no problem for me, but Lydia is another story. How am I going to convince her to basically move in with me when she nearly died trying to escape me?
-Twenty-five-
Lydia
“Why did you leave your bike at Riggs’ house again?” I ask, staring at Bash behind the wheel of Lauren’s minivan. If he didn’t have a scowl on his face, I might tease him over how ridiculous he looks, but he’s been in a bad mood since Pipe showed up.
Can we talk about that for a second? Whenever Declan was in a bad mood, I’d cringe and pray that he didn’t take it out on me. Sometimes I’d hide our bills because if they were higher than average, he’d somehow blame me for it and with blame came a hefty dose of punishment. Bash is clearly ticked about something and I don’t feel threatened. If anything, I want to help him work through whatever is stressing him. I guess that’s what happens when one soul recognizes the good in another. The walls easily crumble and the heart cracks open.
“I have to take this for a tune-up tomorrow,” he mutters.
“Oh, that reminds me, you never told me what happened with the car. Break it to me gently, how much is it going to cost to fix?” I already decided if it’s more than a grand I’m junking the thing. It’s probably not worth that much, but that’s all I’m willing to dump on it and even that is going to hurt my pocket.
Bash’s jaw tenses and his knuckles whiten as they roughly grip the steering wheel. That’s never a good sign and still, I don’t panic. I don’t even bat an eye when he pulls the van over and throws it in park.
“I was going to wait until we got home to tell you,” he begins, turning to face me. His blue eyes hold mine for a beat before he lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Lydia, but the car is done.”
“Done,” I repeat. “You mean it’s totaled?”
“Yes.”
“I knew it was bad, but I still thought it was salvageable. I mean I don’t give a damn what it looks like. If it’s bodywork—”
“Lydia, the car isn’t safe to drive. I can get you a loaner car off the lot but it’s gonna take a few days to register it and all that shit, it might be best if you just stay with me for the meantime. I’m right upstairs from the bar, so you won’t have to worry about getting back and forth to work.”
My eyes widen at his suggestion.
Well, there goes the whole not panicking thing.
“I can’t do that,” I argue, shaking my head for extra emphasis.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t! Bash, I’m not moving in with you. We—”
“If you say we barely know each other one more time…”
“What?” I question. The single word sounds like a dare and the instant it leaves my lips; Bash’s expression hardens.
“Don’t do that,” he orders. “You know damn well I won’t do shit, that I was simply making a point. I already told you I don’t like it when you say that, it discredits whatever this is between us and I feel too strongly to let anyone, even you, do that.”
I don’t have any words for that and even if I did, I don’t trust myself to speak. Instead, I divert my attention and stare aimlessly out the window, trying to recall a time in my life when anyone spoke so passionately to me about their feelings for me. What if he’s right? Why should I discredit his feelings because of time? Does it really matter how long you know a person? Think about it, there are people who date for years before they get married. Declan and I were together a while before we got married and still, I didn’t know the real him. Then there are people like my grandparents, who met one another at eighteen and went on a total of three dates before my grandfather proposed. Maybe it doesn’t matter how long you know a person. Maybe it’s the foundation that matters most. After all, the house doesn’t fall if the bones are good.
“I know you don’t trust anyone, but I’m fucking begging you to trust me,” he rasps.
The desperation in his tone forces my eyes back to him and I watch his throat as he struggles to swallow. He reaches across the console and takes both my hands, giving them a squeeze. Something in the way he looks at me tells me there is more to this than meets the eye.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I whisper.
His nostrils flare as he bites the inside of his cheek.
“There’s some trouble with the club,” he confesses. “I’m not privy to all the info because I’m a prospect, but something is going down and anyone associated with the club needs protection, including you.”
“Me? I’m not—”
“Lydia, you’re the fucking face of our clubhouse,” he interjects. “Pipe made a really good point tonight, and it put things in perspective for me. It’s very unusual for a club to operate out of a public establishment and that’s mainly because it’s easy access for their enemies. The last thing I want to do is scare you after you opened up to me and told me some of what you’ve been through, but darlin’ I need you to let me do my job and right now that’s making sure your safe. I can do that if you’re with me.”
My mind wanders back to the night Wolf declared the club was on lockdown. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look in his eyes as he slid the deadbolt in place and ordered everyone to stay put. It was when I discovered just who the Satan’s Knights are and what they’re capable of. If it wasn’t for that, I’d probably question everything Bash is saying. I’d automatically assume whatever drama was circling the club was my fault, that Declan had finally found me and was looking to wreak havoc on my life. But Declan is no match for the Satan’s Knights and everything Bash is saying makes perfect sense.
“I know I’m asking a lot and I promise we’ll take it day by day,” Bash continues. “You just need to be honest with me and let me know what’s going through your head and when you feel like you need to run, we’ll ride it out together. I’ll giv
e you space, I’ll sleep in Needles’ apartment if that makes you more comfortable—”
“Stop,” I interrupt. “I don’t want you sleeping in someone else’s apartment. I’ll stay with you until you guys handle whatever you need to.”
He breathes a sigh of relief and gives my hands another squeeze.
“But I’m going to need something from you,” I say, swallowing as I stare at him.
“Anything.”
“Promise me you’ll keep us both safe. I just found you, Bash, and I’m starting to think I want to keep you.”
There’s no time to gauge his reaction because he pulls me closer and crashes his mouth to mine. The passionate way he spoke to me is nothing compared to the passion he throws into the kiss and soon, we’re both breathless and clinging to one another. Taking my face in his hands, he leans back.
“I’m taking you back to your apartment, you can pack whatever you need but make it quick. I want to get you home, naked and in my bed.”
“Technically, it’s our bed until this all blows over.”
“I like the sound of that,” he says with a lopsided grin. “I like it a lot.”
He gives my lips another peck before releasing me completely and putting the car in drive. I settle back in my seat as he merges onto the road and I try to make a mental list of all the things I’ll need to stay with him. Clothes, makeup wipes, my yarn and crochet needles…the bag I never leave home without and the gun.
Fuck.
“What?”
Startled by his voice I turn to Bash.
“You said fuck,” he points out.
Of course I’d have a verbal outburst right now.
“I was trying to remember where my suitcase was,” I lie. It comes so quickly and so naturally that it disgusts me. There’s no time to dwell on it though because he pulls up in front of my apartment and kills the engine on the minivan. As we start down the driveway Chaz appears from my stairwell, dressed in full drag.
Shifting Gears (Satan's Knights Prospect Trilogy Book 1) Page 18
