by Debra Kayn
"What's your plan?" asked Priest.
Knowing the celebration over today's changes would wait until he took care of business, he made sure that there would be no mistakes going forward. They couldn't afford to fuck up. He had one chance.
"I made sure the address Paco dug up for Big was the same one Twyla had for him. The house is on a half-acre plot, approximately four hundred feet from the nearest neighbor. I can go in the backway on foot, bypassing the houses on the next road." He looked at Priest. "If I can use the suppressor, I'd feel better about doing the job in that location. I can't guarantee the neighbors won't be home."
"I'll go in with you," added Rick.
He turned to his brother-in-law. "No. I want to make sure you come back to Tracy."
Rick rubbed his whiskered jaw. "I'd feel better making sure someone covers your ass. Tracy will never forgive me if something happens to her brother."
"Nothing is going to happen." He held Rick's gaze. "I have a woman to come back to, a sister who doesn't deserve to lose another family member. I know, brother, that she needs you here."
Rick raised his finger, acknowledging that he'd heard and accepted Whip's decision.
He turned to Priest. "I don't want any cleanup to come in afterward."
"That could get messy for you. If you forget one thing, it's over for you. They won't let you out of prison this time," said Priest.
"It was messy when Cusclan killed my parents." His voice hardened. "I want to leave tonight on Cusclan's doorstep by using their own marked weapon. Let the police trace it back to them. If there are any of them still alive after the news spreads."
He counted on everyone involved, who'd bought an illegal weapon from Cusclan over the last couple of months, to have heard the news by midnight. That gave them time to get rid of the guns or sand out the deliberately made marks.
The only one that will remain is the one Twyla stole. He'd wipe it clean before and after the murder.
When the police find out about the murder, they'd follow the evidence. They won't be looking for Tarkio. They'll go straight to Cusclan—after Tarkio informs their associate at the police department about Cusclan's marked guns.
"All right, let's wrap this up." Priest stepped backward. "No one starts the celebration until Whip gets back."
"One hour." Whip walked toward the door. "Be ready to ride out."
He understood Priest would go with him to where Whip would leave his Harley and go the rest of the way alone on foot. His president would stay out of sight of the house, ready to protect him if things went south.
He opened the door and stepped into the clubhouse. Gazing around the room, he found Twyla standing behind the couch, near where Tracy sat with Curley's old lady and her childhood friend, Faye. She spotted him and rushed to his side.
Catching her, he brought her close, looping his arm around her neck, and put his lips on her ear. "Good?"
"Yes." She looked up at him. "Can we go home?"
"Not yet." He kissed her. "Soon."
She knew something was going down. It was her first complete lockdown. Her frazzled nerves on top of her constant worry that she'd ruined things between her and Tracy set her on edge.
Over her head, he viewed Tracy walking toward the door where she met Rick and instantly climbed up his body to wrap her arms and legs around him.
"She'll be okay." He rubbed Twyla's back. "We just need to give her time."
By the end of the day, Tracy would never have to see another Cusclan member again.
He was sure that some Cusclan members would survive, but those that remained would be too busy trying to keep their heads above water to come into Missoula.
It meant Twyla was safe. Her one and only connection to Cusclan would be gone.
"When do you have to leave?" She sighed, stroking his face.
"In a few minutes." He needed to put gas in his Harley, check his weapons, and calm himself—and he couldn't do that around Twyla. "Just let me hold you a little longer."
"I hate this," she murmured.
"I'd worry if you didn't." He kissed her eyelids, her nose, and finally, her mouth.
The need to annihilate Cusclan was a long time coming. Big was only a roadblock. But after tonight, he'd have nothing in his way.
He couldn't bring back his parents or make Tracy forget the past, but he could focus on the future.
He pulled his mouth off Twyla. "We're going to the courthouse on Monday."
Her eyes widened. His cock pulsed. He wanted nothing more than to make Twyla his in all possible ways.
"For?"
"We're getting hitched." He kissed her hard. "In the meantime, think about letting me put a baby in your belly."
She gasped and coughed. "A baby?"
He grinned. "As soon as possible."
She gawked at him. He kissed her again.
"Think about that when I'm gone." He backed up a step and winked.
Flustered, she palmed her forehead and stared at him. Confident that would get her mind off his absence, he changed directions and went to his sister, still in Rick's arms.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Tracy was worn out. The last couple of days, she'd gone through the motions of taking care of the children. But as soon as she got a break or like today when the kids were tucked in at Priest and Nicole's house with the other children under armed guards, Tracy struggled to hold it together.
"Next time you see me, it'll be over," he whispered.
Tracy opened her eyes and lifted her head off Rick's shoulder. She studied him, swallowing hard.
Whip cupped his sister's cheek. "Everything is going to work out."
"You'll come back?" She wet her lips. "Promise me."
"I promise." He glanced at Rick and dipped his chin.
With his goodbyes said in the only way he knew how he left the clubhouse and went out to his Harley. Priest was waiting for him. He took his duffle off his motorcycle seat and set it on the ground, out of view of the street. Deliberately and thoroughly, he went through his weapons, attaching a pistol to his lower leg, one behind his belt, and slipped a forty-caliber in the pocket of his vest.
He was loaded for war.
All he had to do was make it through town and over to Stevensville, a nearby town, without the cops stopping him. Once he was free and clear, nothing would keep him from taking out Big.
Twyla never had anyone show her she was worth a million stars. Hell, a trillion stars.
She meant the world to him, and nobody would take that away from him.
Chapter 32
Twyla
Curley pulled up a chair at the table in the clubhouse. Twyla forced a smile she wasn't feeling. Whip had left three hours ago, and she'd expected him back before now.
The vice president of Tarkio slid a glass filled with dark liquid toward her. "Drink it, hon."
"What is it?" Her stomach revolted at the thought of eating or drinking.
"Coke and rum." He lifted his brow. "It'll settle your stomach."
"Are you a doctor?" She wasn't falling for any trick.
He chuckled. "No, but I've had two glasses of the same thing, and I feel a lot more patient while we wait for Whip to return."
Reaching the point where she needed to do something or go crazy, she sipped the drink. The liquid warmed her chest and hadn't burned going down.
"Thank you." She kept hold of the glass. "Can I ask you something?"
Curley nodded.
"How dangerous does it get out there?" She waved her hand in front of her. "Not all the time. Just when I'm in here."
Curley's gaze softened. He looked at the surface of the table, and his lips pinched. If she would've blinked, she would've missed the small sign that her question made him uncomfortable.
But she'd seen his hesitation, and it only made her more determined to get a bigger answer.
Whip refused to tell her what he would be doing. She only knew that when he came home, if he came home, life would be easier for he
r. And apparently, for him, too.
It wasn't hard to figure out that tonight's job involved Cusclan. That was the only thing that stood in both their ways.
Dealing with Cusclan scared her to death. She worried about Whip constantly. His hatred ran deep inside of him, and she was afraid he'd put himself in unnecessary danger because of holding onto that rage for the club that'd killed his parents.
He had so much to live for to lose his life over hatred.
Planting the idea in her head about a baby had done funny things to her. She hadn't even thought of eventually becoming pregnant with his child.
She hung on to the hope that he was thinking about his future, having his own family, and that would be enough to bring him home again.
She sagged in the chair, remembering him with his niece and nephew. He was confident and loving around children. It was clear that he could handle caring for a baby.
"You have to trust him." Curley brought her back to reality. "Whip can handle himself. He puts you here, not because he doesn't think you can stay safe on your own, but he doesn't have to worry about you. That frees up his head so that he can take care of himself."
She swallowed, wanting more than anything to have that chance with him to have a family, to love him forever. To get married.
"I hope he's okay," she said quietly.
"I do, too," whispered Curley.
Several seconds ticked by as she took comfort from Curley trying to help her. If she had to be anywhere, she was glad she was where other people had the same worries.
Curley cleared his throat and scooted back the chair. "Yell if you need anything."
She nodded, feeling a tad bit lighter now that she'd shared her concerns with someone else. Taking her drink, she got up to use some of the excess energy that crippled her. It wouldn't be much longer. She could wait and be strong for Whip.
"Twyla?"
She turned and found Rick, motioning her over. Tracy was still with him. Instead of avoiding her, Whip's sister looked at her.
Hurrying to them, she raised her brows. "Yes?"
Tracy sat straighter on Rick's lap and reached out. Twyla grabbed her hand and sat down on the edge of the couch. That offer of friendship almost had her sobbing in relief. She would never want to cause Tracy any pain. Not after Tracy had been nothing but kind toward her.
"I'm so sorry." She squeezed Tracy's hand. "I never wanted—"
"It's not your fault." Tracy blew out her cheeks and exhaled. "I always knew I'd see or run into a member from that other club. It surprised me. I wasn't prepared..." She closed her mouth tightly and glanced at Rick. "I need to go get my children."
"They're fine with Nicole and Joey," said Rick.
Tracy swallowed. "Whip will be coming back at any time. Everything is okay."
She nodded, more than hoping Whip's sister was right.
Tracy leaned forward and hugged her. "Thank you for loving my brother."
A tear slipped out, and she squeezed Tracy. They parted, and Twyla walked off, needing a few minutes to herself. She wandered into the hallway. The clubhouse had become a second home to her in such a short amount of time. If what Whip promised, the people here would soon be like her family.
If someone would've asked her if she wanted to get involved with another biker after dealing with Big, she would've laughed and run the other way.
Whip changed all that.
Drawn to him from the start, she never fought hard to keep her distance or rebelled against his bossiness. There was something about him that made her feel confident, safe and wanted.
But, could she handle his lifestyle?
Everyone here tonight tried to soften the truth of what was happening away from the club, but she knew whatever Whip was doing was dangerous. She'd seen the way the others bid him goodbye.
Those goodbyes seemed too final for her comfort.
She'd tried to ignore the quiet and depressing mood around the clubhouse. There were no other women around. No music. No hanky panky. No overindulgence. Not even Angie was allowed to stay with Ringtail during a lockdown.
All of Tarkio rallied around each other, drawing their circle tighter.
The way everyone comforted her, she was glad to be here. Alone, she'd be a bubbling mess.
"Riders coming in," yelled one of the men in the other room.
She jolted, heading down the hallway to see who was arriving, and stopped before she joined the others.
What if Whip wasn't with them?
What if they'd come to tell her he'd died?
She backed up, reaching for the wall. Once her hand connected, she turned and fled down the hallway. She sought shelter in Whip's old bedroom.
She couldn't stand out there with everyone else, hoping for a future Whip wanted to give her, and see it all go away.
Grabbing the pillow off the bed, she hugged it to her middle. She'd rather love him for eternity, waiting for Whip to return, than be faced with the knowledge that he wasn't ever coming back.
Voices grew louder in the clubhouse. She held herself and rocked. Alone once again
Nobody came to find her. Nobody called her name.
Chapter 33
Whip
Shrubbery lined the front of the two-story house that Big called home. Whip sprinted to the corner at the back of the house, staying out of view of the kitchen window. He'd already checked to see if Big was home and only found one motorcycle out front in the driveway.
He planned for two other Cusclan members to be in the house with Big. He'd rather be wrong than be taken by surprise when he broke inside and became outnumbered.
Keeping his back against the siding, he inched along the length of the house. There was a sliding glass door off the dining room. He needed to find the easiest way to enter without being discovered first.
With the entrance ahead of him, he peered at the bottom of the glass, trying to see if there was a broom handle or stick in the track. Not seeing one, he put his hand on the handle without stepping in view.
Pushing his luck, he put pressure on the door. The slider gave a little.
He pressed his back against the house and evened his breathing. His dad and mom had, at one time, believed their house would protect them. Until Cusclan broke in and killed them.
He slid the door open and stepped inside in one motion. Raising his pistol with the suppressor screwed onto the end of the barrel, he scanned the room and quickly moved deeper into the house. Aware he'd need to watch his back, he stayed alert. There were two levels. Big could be anywhere.
Clanking came from the other side of the house. He looked both ways in the entryway and followed the noise down a short hallway. Clearing a laundry room, there was only one door at the end.
The garage.
He put his hand around the knob, knowing it would be unlocked. He'd already searched the perimeter of the house. The garage door was down. Big's motorcycle was in the driveway.
Big had to be the one making noise in the garage.
His hand tightened on the pistol grip. He rolled his shoulders, staying loose.
Swinging the door open, he stepped into the garage. Pointing the pistol in a wide sweep as he searched for Big. He found him with his head lowered near the engine of a Firebird.
Whip stepped forward, getting no response. The boombox on the workbench played nearby, covering any of his noise.
Stepping toward the vehicle, Whip reached out and put the end of the pistol at the back of Big's head.
"Drop the wrench, or I'll blow your fucking head off." Whip's index finger pressed on the trigger, and he moved as Big straightened. "The wrench."
Clunk. The tool landed underneath the car.
"Are you going to shoot me with my back turned?" Big kept his hands in front of him.
Whip stepped back, keeping distance between Big and the gun. "Move slowly."
Big pivoted and gazed at him. No surprise showed on his face at having a Tarkio member in his house.
"Let me gu
ess." Big's eyes flickered, looking for more members. "You're pissed off that your old lady is seeing me behind your back."
"She belongs to me." He stepped to the left, making sure the bullet that would go through Big's body wouldn't also go through the thin, cheap garage door.
There was no doubt Big contacting Twyla was one-sided. He trusted her. For Big to bullshit his way out of trouble only pissed him off.
Whip reached into his vest pocket with his free hand and pulled out the bullet he'd removed from the gun in his hand. He tossed it in the air.
Big caught it on instinct.
"Take a look." He adjusted the end of the pistol, making sure he aimed at Big's face. "You'll probably recognize it."
Big glanced down, turning the bullet between his thumb and finger.
"That's right. It's marked." Whip's chest tightened. "You'll be familiar with it, considering it came from the pistol that belonged to you. I got curious when I unloaded the weapon my woman stole from you and found each bullet had the same mark. I almost missed the imperfection when I peered into the barrel, but nothing a little sunshine wouldn't pick up if you know what you're looking for."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"I thought the same thing, at first. To prove I was right, I'd need to have access to rifles sold by Cusclan." He tilted his head. "Tarkio made some phone calls to your customers and had them check their weapons. Do you know what we found in common?"
Big's gaze narrowed, and he closed his mouth.
"Interesting how each rifle that came from Cusclan hands and was sold illegally on the market also had the same mark in the barrel."
The large vein at Big's forehead throbbed. "You motherfuck—"
Bang.
Big hit the concrete floor. Whip lowered his arm and stared down at the body. Big's reaction to the marked bullet confirmed what he'd already figured out. Cusclan Motorcycle Club dirtied the playing field by spreading their filth to every corner of the underground.
If allowed to continue, they could easily use their contacts within every police department in the United States and set up their enemies to fall for crimes Cusclan committed.
