X Marks the Spot (Executioners MC Book 1)

by Kimmie Easley

  I watched my sister fidget, picking at her arms and running her fingers through her hair. She was high.

  “Well Jessa, I’m here. What’s the big emergency?” I stepped closer. The nauseating smell of my sister’s sweet, floral perfume overpowered my senses.

  Ruth planted her hands on her hips and faced Jessa. Her eyes widened. She inhaled and released the air slowly. “Are you shittin’ me? You called Jo and asked her to come home?”

  Jessa rolled her sullen eyes. “Someone had to, and you know it.”

  “The only damn thing I know is you have stepped way outta line. You heard what your father said and you disobeyed him. Worse, you disobeyed your President. You know how he feels about the current situation.” Ruth narrowed her eyes.

  I was taken aback by Ruth’s hostile response. “Hello? Still here. Someone want to fill me in on this current situation?”

  The two women chimed at the same time. Jessa with a yes, and Ruth with a resounding no.

  This shit’s getting old. I was tired of playing games. I clenched my jaw. “Look, I may not live here or play by club rules, but someone better tell me what’s going on. Especially if it involves Pop.”

  Jessa’s gaze fell on Ruth. “She needs to know. Besides, she’s here now. The cat’s halfway out of the bag.”

  Ruth huffed and waved her arms in the air, signaling defeat. I folded my arms across my chest and waited.

  Jessa crossed the room and perched herself on a bar stool. “It’s not exactly Pop who needs the saving. I just said that to get you here.”

  I glared at my older sister. “What the hell, Jessa? I have a life at home. I have a boyfriend. I can’t just pick up and haul ass just because you feel like starting trouble. I’m done with the games. I’m out of here!” I turned to leave.

  Jessa smirked and arched a thin, penciled on eyebrow. “It’s Ronin, and I wouldn’t exactly call murder a game.”

  Ronin.

  I came to a dead stop, just as Ruth mumbled something under her breath.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s gonna need your help, he just doesn’t know it yet.” Jessa downed the shot of whiskey Ruth had poured earlier.

  I rubbed the base of my neck. I couldn’t piece together what was happening. My mind raced as Jessa’s words sank in. “He wouldn’t want my help anyway.”

  Resolving this was not my problem, I bolted for the door. I swung it open and the sight of the familiar frame stopped my heart. My breath stalled in my throat. The heavy, black, steel-toed boots. The worn out Levis that fit perfectly in all the right places. The broad chest where I had once rested my head at night, covered by a snug white tee. The recognizable club cut that smelled of spice and leather. The beard was thicker and the deep, chocolate eyes a little harder, but it was him.

  Ronin.

  “Guess you better run back to that boyfriend of yours then.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  (Ronin)

  The sight of Jolene standing in front of me in her old skintight jeans was like a sucker punch to my fucking junk. I especially remembered the old tank top that she was wearing, more specifically the rip down the front, right in the center. We were fooling around and things got hot and heavy pretty damn fast. The shirt was the only casualty.

  Breathe, fucking breathe.

  Seeing her for the first time in years was enough to make me forget all about the way she left, ran off without a single fucking word. It was also enough to make me question my president’s orders. When my brothers took a vote to send me up north, I knew I would never go. I would rather pay the price for disobedience than to tuck tail and run like a little bitch. It wasn’t easy to convince the prez, but I was ready to face the consequences all on my own. Clint saved my ass, one again, with is negative vote.

  Shit.

  In a matter of seconds, my entire world had done a one-eighty. On the outside, I appeared calm, but on the inside, I was a fucking disaster. Jolene Miller was the only female in the world that possessed the natural talent to reduce me to god damn rubber.

  “What are you doing here?” Her lips moved captivating me as she spoke.

  Always playing it cool, at least that’s what I told myself, I responded as I stormed past her and into the room. “I live here. And you’re right, I don’t want your help.”

  We both shot a glare across the room after hearing Jessa snicker.

  I pointed a finger in her direction. “This is all your fucking fault, isn’t it?”

  Ruth stepped in between us before I snatched the hag up by her neck. I had often thought the older woman was a psychic or something. She always seemed to know what was coming before anyone else.

  “Go fuck yourself. I was trying to do you a favor. You can rot for all I care.” Jessa rolled her eyes and lit a cigarette.

  A low growl rumbled deep in my throat.

  Ruth pressed both palms against my chest. “You need to calm down, son.”

  “Did you know about this?” I asked, still glaring at Jessa.

  She shook her long, brunette braid. “No, of course not. I only found out thirty minutes ago when she walked into the bar.”

  I snatched off my black beanie and raked my hands through my dark hair. “You know she’s not supposed to be here.” I directed my anger at Jessa, who was tossing back another shot of whiskey.

  She twisted her face into a smug smirk. “I guess that’s not a problem anymore.”

  I snapped my head back around toward the front door. My insides plummeted as I observed the vacant spot where Jolene had been standing just a few seconds earlier.

  “Shit!”

  Jessa snorted, obviously amused. I did not intend to feed into her crazy ass drama. She was trying to get under my skin again, but this time she had gone too far.

  “You gonna handle her?” I asked Ruth, jerking my head toward Jessa.

  The matriarch planted her hands on her curvy hips. “I guess it’s my turn. Why are you even here right now? Thought you’d be halfway to Portland already.”

  “So you heard?”

  “Son, who do you think you’re talking to?”

  I widened my stance, positioning my back to Jessa. “The whole thing’s bullshit. My own club voted to send me away. What the fuck? That’s not what family’s about.”

  Ruth’s weathered face fell. “You’re making assumptions with only part of the facts. And you need to be careful what you say. This is the strongest family you’ll ever know.”

  “They’re just worried about doing what’s right for the club.”

  “You know better than that.” She softened her tone. “There’s always something bigger at play. And when Jesse does what’s right for the club, it’s because he’s doing what’s right for his family, including you.”

  My brown eyes rounded. “Care to share?”

  She shook her head, her braid swishing back and forth. “Not this time. So, what are you gonna do? Got a plan?”

  My pulse thumped against my aching skull, reminding me that Zombie still deserved an ass whipping. That son of a bitch was going to eat dirt when all of this shit’s done and settled.

  I didn’t want to talk club business in front of Jessa. Which didn’t appear to be an issue since she had somehow made her way to the couch, curled up into the fetal position, and passed out.

  I lifted my chin. “I’m not going down without a fight.”

  Ruth folded her arms across her ample chest. “What’s Jesse got to say about that?”

  “Let’s just say he won’t stand in my way, but I’d steer clear for a while. He’s pretty pissed. Said some bullshit about the vote being nothing but a formality. He knew I wouldn’t go easy.”

  “And Jolene?” She asked.

  I lowered my head, tugging on my beard. “Yeah, that one caught me off guard.”

  “Me too. At least Jesse will be preoccupied with Jessa. She’s gonna have her ass handed to her for calling Jo home. So, when’s everything going down?”

  I rolled my
neck. “I’m heading down to the station after I tie up some loose ends and take some stuff over the apartment.”

  “You’re turning yourself in?”

  I nodded. “They’re looking for me. I’ll help them out with that, but I’m not admitting to shit.”

  “Can you at least wait until after family supper?”

  I leaned in and gave Ruth a peck on the cheek. “Sure thing, momma.”

  I disappeared down the hallway before she had a chance to talk some sense into me. This was one thing I was going to have to do on my own. I wasn’t about to throw my brothers under the bus. This was my shit storm to deal with.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon clearing out my room at the clubhouse. The MC kept a couple of one-bedroom apartments on the side. That way, when something goes down, a brother can hole up, making it more difficult for the law to get into the clubhouse. Not impossible, just not as easy.

  I shoved some clothes, personal shit, and my shower kit into my duffle bag to plant in the apartment across town. It wasn’t the first time that I’d had to do it, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

  I cranked up my chopper and peeled out of the gravel parking lot. My sled was the only place I felt at home anymore. Living at the clubhouse was all I had ever wanted when I was a kid. Always being at the center of club business, being on the inside, it felt like an honor. It felt like family. Made me somebody.

  Things were changing. I would never say it aloud, but something was off. Things weren’t adding up. My entire life was a fucking mess, and seeing Jolene only made things worse. Damn, she looked good, even better than the hundreds of dreams I’d had about her since she left town years ago.

  Doesn’t matter. The best thing for her was to be long gone, as far away from the club as she could get. Once I got this legal witch-hunt out of the way, things would be different. I had to get my head back in the game. The Executioners were my life. Half-assed wasn’t cutting it anymore. I would make Jesse proud, which also meant keeping Jolene at arm’s length, no matter how fucking bad it hurt.

  I unloaded clothes into the standup dresser and emptied my personal shit in the bathroom. I went to the kitchen to pull down some dishes and plant them in the sink, surprised to find bachelor groceries and cold beer. Damn that woman.

  Ruth mothered all of the brothers, but we shared a special kind of bond. She had been taking care of me for over half of my life now. She had nursed me when I was sick, fought the school when they tried to stick me in tutoring, sat with me in the hospital when I had been shot, and she was always the first one to slap some sense into me when I was being a prick. She had cried when I was hurting, patched me up, both inside and out. She boasted about me like a mother proud of her son for making honor roll. Only, in our case, I had just lead my first takedown.

  I screwed the cap off a cold bottle of Bud and took a long guzzle. I laid back on the small couch, propping my size boots up on the generic coffee table. Ruth had even thought to spread out some bike and restoration magazines. The woman had thought of everything.

  I took another long pull from the bottle, wondering if she had been able to track down Jolene or if she had shown back up on her own. This was exactly why she needed to get the hell out of town and live her own life. I couldn’t focus on the shit that was going down because I was too consumed with worrying about her.

  Promising Ruth that I would wait until after family supper had probably been a mistake. Jesse didn’t need another opportunity to shut me down. I had barely scraped by after the vote. It needed to be unanimous to send me away, but I knew I could count on Clint. Hell, he probably had the fucking common sense to know that I would just turn myself in anyway. It was his way of keeping me in good graces with the club. His way of protecting his hotheaded, unpredictable brother. Needless to say that my prez wasn’t a happy camper, but it spoke volumes that he was allowing me to take the lead on this. For now.

  Shit, I can’t let the old man down.

  I finished off the beer and tried to close my heavy eyes. Depending on how things went down, I wouldn’t be getting much sleep. It didn’t help that every time I tried to drift off, I saw Jolene’s perfect face. For a brief moment, I was staring into her deep, blue eyes, and she was staring back.

  Fuck.

  Maybe a cold shower would be more useful than a nap.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  (Jolene)

  My head was loud as I hauled ass out of town, replaying the horrific scene over, seeing Ronin’s cold, hard eyes staring down at me. I gripped the wheel tighter, trying to hold it steady. Every part of me trembled. I don’t know if it was from seeing Ronin, being that close to him was maddening, or from being transported back to my hometown as if nothing had changed. Either way, it left me completely unnerved.

  I didn’t have a plan. Just drive.

  I pressed the pedal down and was going entirely too fast when I had to swerve to miss the huge, white Great Pyrenees that darted out from the bushes lining the side of the street. I slammed on my brakes, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.

  “Shit.”

  I beat my hands against the wheel and flung my head backwards against the headrest. My chest heaved as I fought the hot tears that pooled in my eyes.

  Ronin.

  Butterflies jostled around in my stomach, causing me to have to swallow back the sob welling up in my throat.

  Who the hell does he think he is?

  Very few things pissed me off more than being dismissed. Brad seemed to head up that department all by himself. Entitled bastard.

  I was done allowing people to trample all over me. Last time I checked, I was a grown ass woman. Owning my victories, as well as my mistakes. Owning myself.

  The carefree dog strolled along the middle of the road, clueless about its near death experience. I envied the poor creature. I turned the car around and headed back toward Jericho.

  The sun was starting to set. I noticed the full parking lot at the church on the corner, reminding me that it was Sunday evening.

  Family supper.

  I was tired of tiptoeing around everyone. If Pop wanted me out of town, I wanted to hear it out of his own mouth.

  As I pulled the car around the back of the clubhouse, I was relieved to see the group of Harleys backed up, lined along the metal fence outside of my father’s house. I opted to park in the bar parking lot rather than pulling into the driveway. Safer. Quicker, in case I needed to make a fast getaway. It sucked to be a stranger among family.

  It was no longer my house. Actually, I had never felt welcome at the new house after the fire burnt down my childhood home, the only place that I had lived with my mother. One of the only places that held her memories. Not really memories, more like snippets, flashes.

  My heart raced as I inched up the walkway. The foreign sound of laughter and voices made my stomach somersault. The lip-smacking aroma of Ruth’s tri-tip fajitas practically made my mouth water.

  I stood outside the front door, frozen, unable to bring myself to knock.

  “Hey, babe. You gonna stand out here all day?”

  Startled, I spun around on my heels.

  “Holy shit! Jo!”

  “Wow, Clint?”

  “Hell yeah! Damn, you look good.” The big man coiled his long arms around my slim waist, picking me up and swinging me around in circles. I had known Clint since we were young kids. He had become like a brother to me over the years, long before he met Ronin in the sixth grade. Our families were tight until his old man died when we were teens. The MC continued to take care of him and his mother until she up and married a Pistol King. Clint wrote her off like a bad check, and he hasn’t talked to her since.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” He asked as he planted me back on the ground.

  “Long story. Running late for family supper, huh?” I asked, attempting to delay the inevitable.

  He twisted his handsome face. “Yeah, my own long story. Going inside or gonna creep out here all night?”

&nbs
p; I drew in a deep breath and offered an uneasy grin. “Creeping sounds like a solid plan.”

  “Shut the fuck up and get your ass inside.” He gripped my hand and busted through the front door.

  “Clint, that better fucking be you. We were about to eat without you.”

  The sound of my father’s voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. My body tensed as Clint practically dragged me through the house toward the dining room.

  “Hey, mother fuckers, the first one to touch my grub draws back a bloody nub,” he yelled as we turned the corner.

  The playful banter quickly halted. All gazes immediately landed on me. Faces fell, chins dropped, and bloodshot eyes widened. I recognized most of the faces gathered around the massive picnic style table. Jessa smirked, amused by the excruciatingly uncomfortable situation.

  I scanned the crowd, briefly landing on Ronin, who was leaning back in his chair giving me a hard stare. I glossed over everyone else until reaching the head of the table. My insides were like a pool of jelly.

  Jesse Miller put his beer bottle down and pushed his chair back from the table. Clint had already occupied an empty spot on the bench, leaving me standing in the middle of the room by myself.

  “Thought I’d take a chance and crash family supper.” My pulse raced as Pop crossed the room. I hadn’t seen him in nearly eight years. Seeing how much he had aged made my chest ache.

  Time stood still as he positioned himself in front of me, leaving less than a foot of distance between us. I didn’t know if he was waiting on me to speak first, but my dry throat wasn’t going to cooperate.

  My tank top bounced as my heart hammered, battering my insides.

  Jesse opened his lean, ink-covered arms. “It’s not crashing when it’s your family and your home.”

  Instant tears slipped down my red cheeks as my pop pulled me in for a long, overdue embrace. After we both silently agreed to part, I spotted Ruth across the table, sitting in the opposite head of the table seat, beaming.

  Jessa had a scowl that only intensified when Jesse nudged Jimmy X down to make room for me to sit next to him. I offered a smile to the rest of the table, skipping over Ronin. Jackass. If he’d had his way, I never would have attempted to come back. He almost robbed me of this time with my father.