by Debra Kayn
She couldn't trust Tracy to drive in her condition. Whether it was shock or fear resonating through Tracy, she could get in a wreck.
"Come on now." She let go and put her foot on the floorboard of the truck. "Scoot your butt over. I'll take you to Rick and Whip."
Tracy moved halfway, remaining in the middle of the bench seat. That would have to do.
After a few minutes of coaxing the keys from Tracy, Twyla climbed in and started the truck. Dread filled her. Whip was going to come undone when he finds out Big showed up at the restaurant.
Plus, he was protective of his sister—understandably. He'd blame her for Big approaching her at work. Rightly so, because she wished she'd never met Big and could erase that part of her life. If she hadn't met him, Tracy wouldn't be in the condition she was in now.
Five minutes later, she pulled in front of the clubhouse. Rick walked toward her, and upon recognizing Twyla behind the wheel, he jogged over.
He rounded the fender and opened the passenger door.
Tracy leaned toward him, climbing into his arms and wrapping herself around him, much like a child seeking protection from a parent. Rick's gaze turned to fire, and he threw flames at Twyla. Already feeling like the worst person on earth, her pulse beat in the cords on her neck, and she became lightheaded.
"What happened?" growled Rick.
"She was at the restaurant." She glanced at the boxes on the seat. "I was walking her to the truck after she bought pies to take home, and Big showed up. Nothing happened, I swear."
Rick turned his head and put his mouth on Tracy's cheek, carrying her away from the truck and taking her inside. Once she was alone, Twyla hung her head. This was her fault.
If she hadn't had a relationship with Big, he wouldn't have been around, and Tracy wouldn't have seen him.
Whip was going to blow up when he found out about his sister.
She left the keys in the truck and slid off the seat. There was nothing she could do. Just having her around had sent Tracy into reacting badly.
She walked to the sidewalk and headed back to the restaurant to get her car. It'd probably take her an hour to get there, but she could use the time to figure out how to make it up to Tracy. The last thing she ever wanted to do was upset her.
A mile away from the clubhouse, she was determined to give Big his gun back. If he was going to keep bothering her about it, she'd give it to him. It was no longer about hurting him by stealing something important to him when she left or having it on her to force him to stay away.
Two miles away from the clubhouse, she decided to swing by Big's house one morning when he was gone and leave it on his doorstep. She couldn't ask Whip to go with her because the two men would get in a fight.
Two and a half miles away from the clubhouse, she scrapped all the ideas because there was no doubt in her mind that what she wanted to do was unforgivable in Whip's eyes. He wanted her nowhere near Big.
Overheated from the excursion, she wiped her forehead as she rounded the corner and viewed the restaurant. Hurrying her step, she got to her car and left to go home.
As she pulled out of the parking lot, she spotted Whip riding toward her. She waved, hoping he'd see her. She went through the green light and peered in her rear-view mirror. He'd turned around and followed her.
Putting on her turn signal, she pulled into the parking lot in front of the dry cleaners and waited for him.
He pulled up beside her.
She leaned against the door and rolled down the window. "Hi."
"Drive home." He pointed. "Straight home."
When she hesitated, he circled his finger in the air to get her moving. She put the car in Drive and pulled out ahead of him.
Chewing on her lip, she gazed at the rearview mirror as often as the road in front of her. She was trying to do the right thing and do what people expected her to do.
Obviously, she wasn't doing good enough.
Whip was pissed.
Tracy was scared to death.
Rick hated her for her part in hurting his wife.
Angie had gone back to not speaking to her at the clubhouse and pretended they weren't sisters.
Maybe there was no changing. Maybe she would always disappoint those she cared about.
Chapter 30
Twyla
WHIP STOOD IN THE MIDDLE of the living room. "Where is it?"
His bellow echoed in the bare room of the house. She cringed, not able to get a word in during all of Whip's questions. All he wanted to do was bust Big's head.
Once he was done doing that, he probably wanted to break up with her, but he couldn't see that now.
But, he would.
"It's in the bedroom." She lifted her hands. "I'm telling you; I'll give it back to him. Then, he'll stop bothering me."
"Where is it?"
He kept ignoring her. Only focused on the gun, she hurried down the hallway into the bedroom to get it for him.
Finding her winter coat in the closet, she slid her hand into the pocket and pulled out the pistol. She returned to him and held out the weapon.
"Are you going to give it back to him?" she asked.
He popped out the clip, looked at the gun, and put it back together again. "This is Big's?"
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
Exasperated, she raised her hands in the air. "Of course, I'm sure. I stole it from Big's closet when I left him."
Not knowing what else to tell him, she paced. He could ask all the questions he wanted, but her answers weren't going to change. She was telling the truth.
He held the pistol up, peering at each side. Then, he walked over to the window and took out the clip again, making quick work of removing the three remaining bullets.
The longer he studied them, the harder his mouth grew until she was afraid of saying anything.
Finally, he walked out of the room and into the kitchen. She followed him. Afraid he'd ride off now and confront Big. Nothing would stop him from killing her ex-boyfriend.
She understood his hatred for everyone involved in Cusclan. But she didn't want to lose him.
Anything could happen. Big could shoot Whip. Whip could shoot Big. He could go to prison.
Whip dumped the gun and bullets on the Formica counter, then stepped away from it as if he was afraid of the weapon. He looked at her. The wildness in his eyes made her flinch.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, unable to stop herself.
His upper cheek twitched, and he ran his hand down his face before looking away from her. "This can't be fucking happening," he murmured.
Worried, she approached him, putting her hand on his back. He stiffened under her touch.
"I'm sorry." She paused. "I wish I never stole the gun."
"It's not you." His chest expanded, and he shook his head. "I need to make a call."
More confused, she backed out of the room and went into the bedroom. Giving him space, she looked at the bed. They both hated making the bed and left it in disarray every morning, usually after having sex.
They were slowly turning the house into their home.
His clothes mingled with hers in the closet. Her bag of makeup sat on the counter of the bathroom beside an electric shaver that he never planned to use—yet, he kept it because his dad bought it for him when he was thirteen years old.
She straightened the sheet, spread out the blanket, and pulled up the bedspread. For some reason, she wanted one piece of furniture to be perfect.
"Sis?"
She hurried out of the room, hopeful Whip had calmed and was wanting to talk sensibly now. "Yes?"
"I'm stepping out." He took a pack of cigarettes from his vest pocket. "Prez and Paco are coming over."
She nodded. He gave her no reason for their visit, but she understood it was about what happened today.
To keep busy, she took the package of ground hamburger out of the fridge that she'd left to thaw that morning and got a skillet from the cupboard. Thanks to the club, they'd
supplied them with the basics in the kitchen to get them started.
The meat sizzled. She broke up the big lump and turned the burner down to medium, not knowing how long Whip would be outside.
She chopped lettuce, onion and grated a big handful of cheese to keep herself from looking out the front window and peeking at them. They had no taco seasoning, but she'd discovered that Whip liked rolling everything up into a tortilla and eating it anyway. They'd had the same thing last week, and it wasn't bad.
Her appetite had fled the moment Big had showed up at the restaurant. Nothing sounded good, but she knew Whip would need to eat.
She glanced over her shoulder at the counter. Whip had taken Big's gun with him.
Not for the first time, she wished she'd never met Big or made the decisions she had when living with him.
If anything happened to Whip, she'd never forgive herself.
He meant everything to her. She never imagined having a man love her the way he did. Sure that she'd disappointed him beyond repair, her heart broke.
A heart she never knew existed until she'd met Whip.
The pain was unbearable.
PRIEST HELD ONE OF Big's bullets in his hand. Whip drew aggressively on the third cigarette he'd smoked since stepping outside the house. He felt like he was losing his damn mind.
"The only way to prove the gun is marked is to shoot the pistol." Priest held the bullet out to him. "This imperfection on the bullet could be from the natural handling of the ammunition. Or even from the manufacturer."
He shook his head and stepped back, not wanting to touch it. "Can you do that for me?"
Priest pocketed the bullet and slid the pistol behind his belt. "I'm telling you, it's a different gun than what killed your parents."
"And it might be the same." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I left their weapons on the floor."
"The police would've taken them as evidence." Priest exhaled heavily.
"Or, Cusclan is deeper into the police department than we realized."
"We don't—"
"Prez, I've read the autopsy report. Hell, they read it multiple times during my trial. The bullet taken out of my dad had a defining mark. The same with my mom. Now a bullet can have a mark on it if it goes through something else before striking the body, but we both know that they were shot point-blank." His shoulders spasmed under strain. "Bullets also get marked if someone has altered the barrel of the pistol like the one Twyla stole from Big."
Priest lit a cigarette and walked over to the grass before coming back to Whip. "Let's say you're right—"
"I am." He ran his hands through his hair. "It's been seven years since the murders, and now the same markings show up on a gun that was taken from a Cusclan member."
Priest held up his hand. "If it's true. They're dirtying the playing field."
Whip spit on the ground. "With them in charge of the illegal weapons, they can mark each one, setting up their customers to take the fall for crimes they committed."
"If that information gets out, every fucking person would go after them."
Whip nodded. "It would put a huge fucking target on their back. Enough of one, it would be impossible for them to run the guns."
"Moroad would get their business back."
Whip rocked back on the heels of his boots and met his gaze. "The heat on Tarkio would ease."
Priest stared off into the distance. Whip could see the hope in his president's face. If he was right, it changed the game for everyone.
"Paco should be here in a few minutes. I'll take him with me."
"You'll let me know?"
"First thing." Priest clasped Whip's hand. "If you're fucking right, you're going to have a lot of people grateful to you for bringing it to light."
"And a lot of Cusclan members are going to die." He held Priest's gaze. "I need to go after Big. It's personal."
"Tell me when and where. I'll ride with you."
Filled with adrenaline, he needed to do something until he had his head on straight. Going off, thirsty for blood, would put unwanted risks on him.
Paco arrived and pulled into the driveway. After greeting his MC brother, he let Priest explain what was going on and walked into the house. There was nothing more for him to do until he heard if he was right on his discovery.
The aroma of food greeted him. More relaxed than he was when he'd found his sister scared at the clubhouse and Rick trying to bring her around. He'd almost lost it when he discovered Twyla gone and nowhere in sight.
She looked up from the stove. His chest tightened. Under a brave face, she tried to act as if she wasn't scared of him or what he'd do.
He'd reacted because losing her scared the shit out of him. Thinking Big would go away once the power shifted inside the prison was a mistake.
It was a mistake because Big had something bigger to hide. And Twyla held the truth all that time.
Of all things she took with her that night, the pistol could be the answer to Tarkio's problems. If what he suspected was true and Cusclan was marking the guns, she would never know how many lives she'd saved by stealing the pistol.
He walked up to her without blinking. She was everything to him. The connection they had was the only thing that frightened him. The thought of losing her would destroy him.
That connection would save his life if he kept his head. And she gave him a good reason to stay focused.
The second he touched her, she wrapped herself around him. He held her tightly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He tilted her face. There were things he could tell her, but club business stayed with members.
She would never know what her actions had done for Tarkio. But if it came down to her risking her life or the club getting a fucking break, he'd put her first every damn time.
"If anything would've happened to you—"
She shushed him by covering his mouth with her finger. "I'm fine. The only thing I'm upset about is Big showing up when Tracy was with me. I would never, ever want her around Big or any Cusclan member. I keep going over and over what I should've done differently, but he caught us by surprise out in the parking lot."
"You can't control other people." He pressed his lips against her forehead. "You stayed with my sister, and you took her to the clubhouse. You did everything right."
"It wasn't enough."
"You're enough," he whispered. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she whispered back.
He sighed heavily. "What am I going to do with you, sis?"
Twyla rebelled against everyone in her life. But she'd stayed loyal to him.
She lifted her chin and gazed at him. "I made dinner. You could eat with me."
There was nothing he could do until he heard from Priest. He set her up on the counter, kissed her solidly, and said, "You sit. I'll feed you. Later, I'll eat again."
She laughed. "One-track mind, babe."
The pressure in his chest eased. He made her a rollup, adding all the things she'd put on the counter for dinner. Then, he made one for him.
And because they had nowhere in the house to sit, except the bed, he stood between her spread thighs and ate his dinner while sampling her kisses.
Chapter 31
Whip
The ride back from the state prison went faster than normal. After delivering the information to Walker, Whip was ready to bleed some revenge on Cusclan.
By tonight, it would be known that Cusclan marked all the illegal weapons—setting every single buyer up for possible arrest for crimes Cusclan committed.
It was the biggest uprising that had rolled through the underground in decades.
Before the truth spread, he wanted to make sure he was by Twyla's side when Big heard the news.
The Cusclan member would know exactly who found out the truth. That's why Big had gone after Twyla in the first place when he'd discovered she'd stolen his pistol. He knew if the gun fell into the wrong hands, there was a break in Cusclan's bi
g plans.
The fact that he, a Tarkio member, was involved with Twyla made Big desperate to get the weapon back.
But he planned to put a bullet in Big's head before he had another chance to touch Twyla.
Stopping at the traffic light a block from the clubhouse, he glanced over at Rick, pulling up beside him. He tapped his wrist, indicating they'd made good time.
Rick dipped his chin. His brother-in-law was as anxious to get back to Tracy. Both women were staying at the clubhouse while they were gone.
He hoped that by surrounding herself with family, his sister would relax. Tracy was too quiet since her run-in with Big. That morning, before he and Rick left, she'd barely acknowledged him before they rode off.
Despite the good happening today on their assignment, he understood Rick's hesitation to celebrate. His brother-in-law had more important things to worry about at home.
Whip hoped today's outcome would eventually make it possible for Tracy to put her past behind her.
The light changed to green. He eased off the clutch and rode forward. In view of the clubhouse, he spotted Priest, Curley, Paco, Frank, and Banks standing in front of the building. Everyone was uneasy, waiting for news.
If visitation had been denied, it would've prolonged what they'd set up. Communication over the phone wasn't possible. Not with the information he'd given Walker.
He rode into the parking lot, backed his Harley in the long line of motorcycles. He shared a look with Rick and together went to meet with the others.
"Well?" Priest widened his stance.
"I made the visit with Walker. It's done, and the news will be shared." Whip never wasted a moment. "I'm going after Big."
Curley asked, "When?"
"As soon as I check on my woman." He looked at Paco. "Will you stay here tonight and keep her safe?"
"Absolutely," said Paco.
"Is Aaron and Jerry here?" Rick pulled out the leather strap holding his hair back. "I want them to be here for Tracy."
Whip nodded, approving of his choices. Those two MC brothers had proved their worth to Tracy many times over when Whip and Rick were in prison for separate crimes.
