It Ends Tonight (Bayou Devils MC Book 4)

by A. M. Myers

“Country,” I reply and smile when he fights the urge to wrinkle his nose. He doesn’t like it but he turns on the country station anyway and The Shake by Neal McCoy fills the cab. When he glances over at me, I smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “Sure.” He nods. “But let’s just keep this our little secret.”

  I pretend to lock my lips and throw away the key. “My lips are sealed.”

  “Thank God. I don’t think the club would let me live it down if they heard me listening to country music.”

  I scowl. “The club?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m a member of the Bayou Devils,” he replies, glancing nervously at me and I flash him a reassuring smile. I’ve heard of the club before and I know they still fight against their old reputation in this town but I know differently.

  “I’ve heard of you guys. You actually helped one of my brides a few years back.”

  He glances over at me, his brow furrowed. “Huh?”

  “I just planned a wedding for a woman who y’all helped escape her abusive ex about four years back.”

  “No kidding?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. Her name is Lucy Wilson and all she could talk about during the planning process was how she wouldn’t even be here without y’all. Now, she’s married to her soul mate and they have a baby on the way.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember her. That’s amazing,” he says with a grin so genuine I have no choice but mimic the expression. “I’ll have to fill the guys in when I get back to the clubhouse. They’re going to love it.”

  “I was so inspired when she told me about you guys. It’s really incredible what you’re doing.”

  He shakes his head. “Naw, we’re just doing what we can.”

  “And still so humble about it. How did you find yourself in the hero role?”

  Laughing, he pulls into my driveway. “Well, that is a long, complicated story that I’ll have to save for another time.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” I tell him and he smiles. Reaching down at my side, I release the seat belt and reach for the door, already wincing. I can’t wait to slide into my bathtub and melt these aches away.

  “Hey, let me help you,” he commands and jumps out of the truck before I can object. After jogging around the front of the truck, he opens my door and gently lifts me out of the seat before setting me back down on the ground. He grabs my bag and shuts the door before grabbing my hand and helping me up the front walk.

  “I’m like a damn cripple,” I grumble and he gives my hand a squeeze.

  “Yeah, well, you got hit by a truck, remember?”

  I shiver as the image of the truck’s grill filling my window pops into my mind. “Believe me, I remember.”

  The front door opens and Alice steps out onto the front porch with Brooklyn in her arms as she studies Lucas. She meets my gaze and relaxes when I flash her a smile.

  “Look who’s here, Brookie,” she calls and Brooklyn squeals, clapping her hands in front of her.

  “Mama!”

  “Someone missed you,” Lucas says and I nod, my heart swelling at the sight of my little girl.

  “I missed her, too.”

  When we get up the steps, I collapse into the swing and Alice hands Brooklyn over to me. I immediately kiss her forehead and hold her close, a sense of peace flowing through me now that she’s back in my arms.

  “Who are you?” Alice asks and I gasp, my head snapping up.

  “Alice!”

  Lucas laughs, holding his hands up. “No, it’s okay. I’m Lucas. I was there when Quinn got in her accident yesterday.”

  “And why are you here today?” she asks.

  “Oh my god, enough with the third degree. Alice, this is Lucas. Lucas, this is Alice, my baby sister.”

  She studies him for another moment before nodding. “Hurt my sister and I’ll bury you in parts in the back garden.”

  “Jesus Christ, Alice!” I hiss as Lucas laughs, nodding his head.

  “Noted.”

  She turns to me. “Do you need help getting up to your room?”

  “I might be stuck on the couch for a few days,” I admit. Just thinking about going up all those stairs is wiping me out. Alice takes Brooklyn from my arms and I slowly push myself off of the swing.

  “I could carry you,” Lucas suggests and I turn to him, unsure, but the thought of lying in my comfy bed wins out and I nod.

  “Okay.”

  He leans down and scoops me up like I weigh nothing and it does crazy things to my insides. God, this little crush is turning into a big crush rather quickly.

  Not good, Quinn.

  Not good at all.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and he follows Alice into the house as she points to the stairs. “Her room is up there. I just need to feed Brooklyn real quick.”

  Lucas turns toward the stairs with me in his arms and our eyes meet, our faces only inches away from each other.

  “I’m still not sure why you’re being so nice to me but thank you for everything you’ve done these past two days. I really do appreciate it.”

  He smiles and I just want to melt in his arms. “You’re welcome, Quinn.”

  When we reach the top of the stairs, I pat his chest. “Okay, you can put me down now.”

  Nodding, he sets me down and grabs my hand again, helping me hobble along as we walk toward my bedroom. His hand feels so warm and strong in mine and for some reason it makes me feel safe in a way I haven’t felt in almost two years. As soon as he lets go, he’ll take that feeling with him and it’s killing me to let it go. He makes me feel like the woman I was before everything fell apart and it’s a little alarming how quickly I’m getting used to the feeling. What do I do when he leaves? How do I go back to this broken shell I’ve been lately?

  Once in my bedroom, he helps me climb into bed and I pull the blankets up around me, sighing as my body relaxes back into the mattress.

  “Can I see your phone?” he asks and I point to the bag he set on the floor next to the bed.

  “In there.”

  Closing my eyes, I start to nod off when he places the phone in my hand. I open my eyes and meet his intense, enchanting gaze. “You have my number now and I want you to call me if you need absolutely anything, okay?”

  “You’ve already done so much for me,” I protest and he shakes his head.

  “I’m serious. Call if you need anything and I’ll be here.”

  My eyes feel heavy, the pain medicine dragging me to sleep again and I shake my head as I whisper, “Who are you?”

  The last thing I feel before sleep claims me is his warm lips pressed against my forehead and for the first time in a long time, the nightmares don’t plague my night.

  Chapter Four

  Lucas

  Sighing, I set my cup of coffee down on the bookshelf and sink into the lounge chair in the corner of my room before running my hand over my face and closing my eyes. I’m fucking exhausted and as much as I would love to sleep for the next thirty-six hours, I can’t. Not until I find Clay. I spent most of last night hitting his usual hangouts again and even after two showers, I still feel fucking dirty. Each place was more run down and dirty than the one before it and I was accosted by numerous women looking to suck my cock in exchange for just a little bit of dope - anything to get their next fix. It’s disgusting and looking back now, I can’t believe I used to hang out in places just like that but back then, I didn’t care about much.

  I grab my coffee and take a sip before pulling my phone out of my pocket and stare at it. I have one more person I can talk to before I have to start calling hospitals and morgues but I’ve been avoiding this conversation for six damn years and I don’t know that I’m prepared for it. With a sigh, I set my coffee back down and dial her number.

  “Hey, honey! How are you doing?” Iris asks and even through the phone, I can hear the cheery smile in her voice and a rock forms in my stomach. Iris is one of the only people that’s ever given a damn about Clay and I know telling
her the truth will disappoint her but I don’t know what else to do anymore. I’m out of options.

  “I’m good, Riz. How are you?”

  There’s a pause on the other end of the line and I turn to the window, my heart racing.

  “You wanna tell me the truth this time?”

  Shit.

  I know better than to try and bullshit Iris. I’ve never been very good at hiding anything from her and she doesn’t have the kind of personality that would let me get away with lying to her. I take another sip of coffee before setting it down on top of the bookshelf with a sigh.

  “Uh… have you seen Clay at all lately?”

  There is this nagging sensation, deep down in my gut, that’s screaming at me to pay attention, to be on top of my game but I have no idea why. It’s not like Clay hasn’t disappeared for long stretches at a time before. But this time feels different.

  “No, I haven’t. Is something wrong?”

  I sigh and close my eyes. When Clay first started using, I thought I could handle all of this on my own but now, it’s six years later and I’m no closer to managing my brother and his addiction than I was when it all started.

  “Yeah, something is wrong, but it’s not really a conversation we should be having over the phone.”

  “I see,” she murmurs and my stomach rolls.

  Shit.

  I shouldn’t have said anything.

  “I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t you dare,” she cuts me off. “Don’t apologize for finally including me.”

  I nod despite the fact that she can’t see me. “Okay.”

  “Why don’t you come round for a meal in the next day or two and we’ll talk?”

  “Yeah,” I answer. “I can do that.”

  The smile is back in her voice when she says, “Good. And I’ll keep my eye out for your brother until then.”

  “Thank you, Iris.”

  “Oh, hush, boy. I think you know by now that I’d do just about anything for you boys. Y’all are family.”

  I smile, my thoughts drifting back to when Clay and I first met Iris years ago and I nod. Despite the fact that we’re not related, Iris has been family to my brother and I since the moment she inserted herself into our lives.

  “All right, I’m going to let you go.”

  “Okay, sweetie. I’ll see you soon.”

  We hang up and I sigh as I lean back in the chair and grab my coffee, going over Clay’s favorite hangouts in my mind. I fucking hate going there and searching for him but even worse is the feeling of my worry eating away at me when I don’t find him. It’s like one of those tapeworms you see on medical TV shows - the kind of thing that you never even realize is there until it sucks so much life out of you that you’re barely hanging on. In the beginning, I worried about my brother but now, it’s consuming me, devouring another piece of my soul each day and I worry that neither one of us is going to survive this mess. So many people have told me to cut ties but they don’t understand - none of them do. Clay is all I’ve got left and who he is now, the chaos he’s created in both of our lives - is all my fault.

  Sighing, I throw my free arm over my eyes and try to clear my mind. A laugh bubbles out of me and I shake my head.

  What a fucking joke.

  My head is never clear… except recently when I’m around Quinn. My mind drifts to yesterday as I brought her home from the hospital and carried her up to her room. The thing is she felt so damn good in my arms in a way that I’ve never felt before and it was more than her lush curves or soft skin. When I’m with her, I feel free. Maybe she’s just a pretty distraction, an easy way to redirect the toxic thoughts that are always spinning in my head but I don’t know that I care anymore. I need to see her again because even after only spending a few hours with her, I’m clinging to that liberation. And then there’s that little voice in my head that keeps screaming that she’s different from all the other girls but there’s too damn much going on in my life right now to even think about that.

  My phone rings and I jerk up, glancing down at my phone as my arm falls from my face. A Baton Rouge number flashes on the screen and I scoop it up, praying it’s not the morgue.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey. It’s Diego.”

  My heart rate slows as I blow out a breath. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

  “You’re going to want to get down to the station.”

  I jerk forward, spilling coffee on the floor. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I’ve got your brother in a cell here.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I hiss, shaking my head as I stand and set the half empty cup of coffee down on the bookshelf. “Do I need to bring bail?”

  “Naw, you’re good. They just kept him until he sobered up.”

  I nod. “Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  We hang up and I chuck my phone across the room, irritated when it lands on the bed instead of smashing against the wall. Fuck this shit. Why am I jumping up to go bail him out of jail when he’s just going to be right back there next week or the week after that? He’s fucking using me but both of us know that I’ll continue to let him.

  Shoving myself up from the bed, I stomp across the room and grab my phone before going to the dresser and pulling the lockbox I keep in the underwear drawer out. I grab the chain from around my neck and pull it off before jamming the key into the lock and flipping the top open. Stacks of cash stare back at me and I grab one, thumbing through it before shoving the whole thing in my pocket. I know Rodriguez said he covered it but I have to pay him back for all the help he’s given me. I couldn’t even tell you how many times Rodriguez has kept my brother’s issues under wraps after he’s been arrested.

  Once the lockbox is secure again, I shove it back in the drawer, slip the chain around my neck, and grab my bike keys off the dresser before yanking the door to my room open. I almost crash into Streak, the club’s cyber expert, as I step out into the hallway. He holds his hands up in surrender

  “Whoa, where’s the fire?”

  I shoot him a glare. “Clay’s in jail again.”

  “Ah,” he whispers, understanding crossing his face. “Well, good luck with that.”

  I nod and head for the stairs, leaving him behind me. The guys used to try and talk to me about my brother but they know by now it’s a topic that’s off limits. Especially since a lot of them just want me to cut him loose. I wish I could blame them but they have no idea the shit Clay and I have lived through together and even if I wanted to give up on him, I can’t.

  The bar is quiet when I reach the bottom of the stairs and I’m thankful that I can get out of here without having to explain the situation to anyone else. Shoving the door to the clubhouse open, bright sunlight blinds me and I slip my sunglasses on and jog over to my bike before swinging my leg over it and firing it up. It rumbles beneath me and my heart kicks against my rib cage as I race out of the parking lot and turn away from the clubhouse. Anger fuels me to go faster, whipping through the streets of Baton Rouge with no regard for my own personal safety. By the time I pull up in front of the police department, I’m panting and my anger has melted away to exhaustion.

  Climbing off the bike, I make my way inside and stop in front of the desk as I wait for the receptionist to acknowledge me as she flips through a magazine.

  “How can I help you?” she asks, not even bothering to meet my gaze.

  “I’m here to see Detective Rodriguez.”

  She points to the waiting area. “Have a seat and he’ll be with you shortly.”

  I take a seat in the waiting area and each minute that passes only pisses me off more as I wait for my brother. The worst thing is, I know he’s going to act like this is no big deal. Just another day and I guess for us, it is. He keeps screwing up and I keep showing up to rescue him. In his mind, he can keep doing this forever because I will show up, I’ll always come to bail him out - even if it’s killing me.

  “Smith.”

  I glance up and Rodriguez gestu
res me over. Damn, he looks like hell. He has dark circles under his eyes and his dark hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly.

  “You look like shit, dude,” I say when I reach him and he nods. “Why are you at work so soon?”

  He leads me back to his desk and plops down in his chair with a sigh. “Because I can’t be anywhere else. I have to figure out who killed Laney.”

  “We told you we’d help you out,” I remind him as I sit in the chair next to his desk. He nods.

  “I know and I appreciate it but this is my fight. It was my job to protect her and since I couldn’t do that, I have to find this guy and make him pay.”

  I shake my head. “You need time, man. It’s still too fresh and anyone can see that you’re torturing yourself.”

  “Maybe it’s what I deserve,” he mutters as he stands. “Let me go get your brother.”

  “What did he do this time?”

  Rodriguez rolls his eyes. “Got drunk and hit on the wrong dude’s girl. He’s got one hell of a shiner to go along with his hangover.”

  “He wasn’t high?” I ask, stunned.

  “Not when he was picked up.”

  I nod as he turns to leave and slip a stack of cash under some of the files on his desk with a sigh. He’d never take it if I offered it to him outright but it’s the least I can do for all his help with my brother the past few years.

  As I wait for them to come back, I rub my hand over my face. I’m not stupid enough to believe or even dare to hope that Clay being sober means anything more than they picked him up before he could shove a needle in his arm but it’s certainly different from all the other times I’ve dragged my ass down to the station to bail him out. It’s hard to remember a time when this wasn’t my life. Clay’s only been using for the past six years but it feels like forever and since I’ve built my life around trying to help him, I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself if he ever got clean.

  “Thanks for the hospitality,” Clay says as he walks out of the back, followed by Rodriguez and I stand, rolling my eyes. Why the fuck does he always have to act like such a prick?

  “I don’t want to see you in here again.”