She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. The man knew how to turn on the charm. Before, she’d doubted his ability to separate his worlds. But once again he’d proven her wrong. These girls were genuinely happy. And Rosa was not just a live-in nanny; she held a place of respect in the household, like a beloved auntie.
“Yes,” she admitted. “But not just now. Every day.”
“Well, don’t get too comfortable, Counselor,” he said, picking up her suitcase. “There’s more on the horizon.”
Chapter 32
Lang knew it was time to end it. Not just neutralize the situation, but make sure it never happened again. He’d pay the debt to the cartel with his own blood if he had to—but the bastards better be prepared to make change, because Lang refused to go out alone. First his sister, now Lily. He cracked his knuckles and swallowed a mouthful of water. Seated at the head of the table, he waited for his Brothers to settle down. They were gathering in the conference room to witness the “discussion” Lang intended to have with the cartel front man—Felipe. What happened here today could make or break the Sons of Odin.
Felipe remained cool and collected, even though two dozen members were staring him down like he was a piece of raw meat. He lit a cigarillo, then dropped the match in a nearby ashtray. “To what do I owe the honor of being summoned to the Sons of Odin table on such short notice?” He exhaled smoke in Lang’s direction.
Lang didn’t speak. Instead, he lit a Marlboro and pushed his chair away from the table. He stood, took a deep drag, then stalked to where Felipe sat. Grabbing a fistful of Felipe’s overgelled hair¸ Lang yanked his head back and exhaled smoke an inch from his face. Felipe coughed and Lang laughed, letting go.
“Goddamn clove cigarettes make me want to puke,” Lang spit. “Guess you heard the news, Felipe?”
The man shook his head, then ran a hand over his disheveled hair. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Remember the conversation we had in Port A?”
“We discussed many things. I believe we reached an understanding before we parted ways. Although my boss wasn’t happy with the new arrangement, he accepted the terms as a gesture of respect for your club. Anything that’s happened since then has nothing to do with me or my men.”
“No?” The bastard talked out of both sides of his mouth. “I don’t believe a fucking word you say.”
Finally he showed some backbone and twisted around to face Lang. “I’m here to recruit pussy, not to jeopardize our alliance.”
“Consider that alliance finished.”
Felipe went pale.
“Chrysler 300,” Lang said. “Which one of your pieces of shit drives one?”
Felipe wouldn’t give up one of his own any quicker than Lang would. But planting the seed of fear in his mind would put him on the defensive. Truth be told, the cartel relied on the weapons the Sons of Odin transported for them. And with competition as deadly as it was south of the border, another ambitious regional leader would be more than happy to make a new arms deal with the club.
“One of yours targeted my family. First my fourteen-year-old sister—forced her to smoke cocaine at gunpoint—then they broke into my girlfriend’s apartment. Like intimidating helpless women and children?”
Felipe shot up from his seat. “If I wanted to send a message, I’d just put fucking bullets in their heads.”
Spurred by the mental image of the women he loved dead, Lang ripped the forty-five from his hip holster and jammed it into Felipe’s temple. “Say it again, motherfucker.”
Felipe’s eyes flared, but he didn’t move a muscle. Maybe he’d been threatened with death too many times before. Most men would piss their pants like little bitches.
“Lang!” Vincent yelled from across the table.
Arni covered Lang’s hand with his own. “Not here,” he coaxed in a steady voice. “There’s old ladies in the clubhouse, Brother.”
To his credit, Arni had served well as vice president. The guy deserved better than watching his leader lose his shit. Lang swallowed his rage and slowly lowered his pistol. “Seems God is on your side today.”
“Psychotic asshole.” Felipe straightened his collar. “Do you really think I’d risk my own family by threatening yours? The blood allegiance between our organizations runs deep, amigo. My ass is on the line if you take business elsewhere.”
“Moco took the walk of shame a week ago. Has he been in touch?” After Felipe, Moco was the next suspect. But Lang doubted he had the balls or resources to go after his family.
“We’ve talked,” Felipe admitted.
Everything swirled through Lang’s head at once. The safety of his family, Lily, his club, the inability to control his rage. What the fuck was going on? Like Jess before him, he’d acted impetuously and almost started a war by threatening to blow Felipe’s head off without knowing all the facts. Predator mode served him just fine, kept the Brotherhood safe, but cold-blooded murder because he suspected someone of threatening his loved ones? He lit another cigarette and took his seat again.
Felipe followed his example, obviously waiting for the conversation to continue.
“Identifying the culprits means more to this club than I can express. Enough to double our shipments,” Lang offered.
“That’s my consolation prize for you aiming a goddamned gun at my head?”
“I won’t apologize for protecting my family.”
Felipe flipped the pack of matches on the table in front of him over a few times. He sucked in a ragged breath. “I’m willing to consider your offer.”
“How long?” Lang asked.
“Give me a few days.” Felipe walked out of the room.
“Dismissed,” Lang said.
The room cleared quickly, but Vincent stayed behind. “What the fuck just happened?”
Lang gazed up at him. “Asking as my Brother or best friend?”
“Both.”
“Turned over a new leaf today,” he said bitterly.
“Like Charles fucking Manson.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never seen you lose it like that before.” Vincent plopped down in the chair next to him. “I think you’re overextended, Brother. I don’t want to see you in prison like Jess, or even worse, find you floating in Packery Channel.”
Lang snorted. “You think I give a shit about my own welfare when my sister and Lily were put in danger?”
“No,” he shot back. “That’s the problem. I know you. You act before you think. Remember who you’re talking to, Lang.”
Shit. It took his best friend to shake some sense into him. As president, Lang should have more scruples and control. This is what happened when he let his temper take over. And what kind of example had he just set? He needed to get away to think, to clear his mind of the backlog of bullshit that had been haunting him since his parents died. The ramifications of the choices he’d made over the years hit him like a sledgehammer.
He stood. “I’m going for a ride. If Rosa, the kids, or Lily call, tell them I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Wait,” Vincent said. “What about Sampson and Dog Tag?”
“Rotate them out, but double the guard at my house. Lily and the girls get escorts wherever they go. Call me for anything—just you, though. I need time.”
Lang left through the back door. He climbed on his bike and headed for Padre Island.
Chapter 33
Every hour that passed without word from Lang drove Lily a little crazier. It had been two days since anyone had heard from him. She left another message on his voicemail, then dialed Vincent. She called every few hours, knowing if Lang didn’t want to be found, his Brothers wouldn’t breathe a word about his whereabouts to her.
“Hello, Vincent,” she said after he picked up.
“Lily. How are the kids?”
“About as worried as I am.”
“Why?” he asked. “Lang disappears on business often enough.”
“Not without ca
lling.”
“Good point.”
“Please,” she found herself pleading. “I know I shouldn’t ask…”
“Then don’t.”
The side of Lang’s life that infuriated her the most. The secrecy. The violence. The danger. The silence. “I’m not sure I can keep doing this.”
“Let’s clear things up. Lang loves you, Lily. Running away while he’s sorting shit out would be a bad choice. Last time we spoke, you assured me he took you to school—explained the Life. MC culture is like the military: if leadership intended you to have an old lady, they’d issue one with our patches. But life gets in the way sometimes. So we try to balance the Brotherhood with family life. Don’t make me say which one wins.”
“I don’t like it, Vincent.”
“Try to deal with it. If Lang contacts me, I’ll be sure to tell him you called. Okay?”
“Thank you.” She disconnected.
Lily knew the stakes were high the day she’d agreed to see Lang again. God in heaven, she’d tried to adjust, to accept his lifestyle without complaint. She’d wrestled with her conscience for weeks and finally given in. But not knowing if he was all right killed her. Ripped her fucking heart out like nothing she’d experienced before. She stared at the cell phone, loneliness washing over her.
She dialed her father’s number.
“Lily?”
“Hello, Dad.”
The long pause gave her time to organize her thoughts.
“I’m glad you called, baby girl. How’s Texas?”
The dam burst and she wept into the phone. “Life is hard.”
He took a deep breath. “Did Lang Anderson hurt you?”
“H-how do you know his name?” Then she remembered—her mother must have told him.
“Your mother and I don’t keep secrets, that’s part of the rebuilding process. So don’t get mad at her.”
“I’m not.”
“Once she gave me his name, I did a little research on the Internet. Have to admit, I don’t like what I found. So I called in a favor and had a background check done. Lilliana,” he gritted out. “What the hell is going on? The only reason I’m not there already is because your mother needs me.”
The words hit her like a physical blow. “Please don’t judge him unfairly. You don’t know anything about him.”
“I know more than you think. Forget the newspapers and police reports.”
“Does he have a criminal history?” A part of her needed to know.
“No.”
“Then how can you—”
“Decent men don’t join outlaw MCs.”
It angered her to hear him talk about decency when he’d betrayed everything for a piece of ass. “He’s not a monster. Lang is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I don’t think you should point fingers, not after what you did.” She cringed after she finished speaking. Once again she’d crossed the line with the man she’d worshiped all her life.
“How long are you going to hold that mistake over my head, Lilliana? There’s no excuse for what I did. I’ve begged your mother’s forgiveness—and I’ll do the same with you. But after today, it needs to stay in the past where it belongs. I love Mom as much as you do. Understand?”
“I want to believe you.”
“Forgive me, baby girl.”
Lily choked back another sob. She couldn’t have it both ways, call her dad when she needed someone to talk to and condemn him for a sin half the population of the world was guilty of. Hormones had gotten the best of him. She’d surrendered to Lang for the same reason—sex. “I’ll try,” she whispered.
“That’s more than I hoped for. So about Lang…”
Lily shared a condensed version, explained how and where they’d met—about his sisters and parents—the kidnapping of Maya—then the break-in at her apartment. Finished, she waited for his reply. Maybe she’d lost her mind, because she’d just tried to sell Lang to her Special Forces father with friends in lofty places like Washington, D.C.
“You’re safe?” he asked.
“Very.”
“Then stay where you’re at for now. We can talk more later, after things settle down. I love you.”
“Love you.”
If someone had told her she was going to agree to a truce with her father today, she would have laughed. But out of desperation, she’d taken the first step. It felt good. But not enough to distract her from the real issue at hand. She rolled off the bed and walked to the dresser across the guest bedroom. Good thing Trisha had stocked her up on extra toilet paper the day she showed up at Lang’s house. She’d burned through two rolls already with her sniffy nose and tears.
She tore off a generous wad and blew her nose. Then looked in the mirror, where puffy red eyes and a frown stared back at her. Great. She’d embraced love only to find herself more miserable than she’d ever been.
She decided to take a nap and closed the curtains so the room would stay dark and cool. Crawling under the covers, she lay on her side, staring at the digital red numbers on the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. Five o’clock in the afternoon—by midnight the love of her life would be missing for seventy-two hours.
A couple of hours later, groggy and feeling nauseous, she woke to the sound of her cell phone vibrating. She rolled off the mattress and padded to the dresser, where’d she’d left it. “Hello?”
“Lily?” Vincent asked.
“Is there news?”
“Yes,” he said. “Be at the clubhouse in an hour. Don’t say anything to the girls.”
Chapter 34
Lang flicked his cigarette butt into the sand ashtray sitting outside the clubhouse. He’d called a special meeting. Brothers and Prospects—mandatory attendance. He’d spent his first night alone at Big Shell, after stopping at the last liquor store on the way and buying two bottles of whiskey and a couple of stale sandwiches. By morning, both bottles were empty and he had a fucking hangover.
He drove another couple hundred miles that afternoon, losing himself in the highway and wind, not giving a shit where he ended up. That’s what he did whenever he needed space—climbed on his machine and fucking rocketed to whatever alternative universe his bike could take him to. He even played “Rocket Man” by Elton John a dozen times, finding no relief.
He stopped to check messages twice, listening to a couple from Maya and a dozen from Lily crying. It nearly made him turn around. That’s how much he loved her. Enough to rethink everything. Enough to break a sacred vow to his father and himself.
The second night remained a blur. Too much whiskey and heartache blinded him to time. He woke up on the beach, ready to act.
He trudged inside the clubhouse, his Brothers silent and waiting near the kitchen.
“Ready for church?” he asked.
They filed inside the meeting room and Lang took his seat at the head of the table. He gazed at all of them. Vincent first, the best friend he’d loved like a blood brother since elementary school. Then Sampson, the fallen one who’d earned his respect back in a matter of a couple of weeks; Arni, the loyal and most experienced leader at the table; and the rest—the only family he’d ever known outside his father, mother, and sisters.
And then, as if he sensed her presence, he looked toward the open doors and found his angel waiting quietly. Lily was dressed in a black skirt and blouse with matching heels, her hair pulled off her shoulders in a loose bun. Beautiful—the breath of fresh air his life needed. The final inspiration behind this meeting.
He didn’t smile or acknowledge her presence; instead he gestured for Arni to take care of her. For the first time in the history of the charter, a woman would sit inside the meeting room.
The vice escorted her to a chair away from the table. She’d be permitted to watch—but not have the right to speak. After she was seated, Arni closed and locked the doors and returned to his place beside Lang.
Lang stood. “My grandfather established lifelong friendships with Brothers from all the dominant
MCs in Texas after he returned from Vietnam in 1967. Dissatisfied with life, he spent years searching for a way to fill the void in his heart. War nearly broke him, but the Sons of Odin saved him. Partnered with Angus Herrera, he purchased this property, and our charter had an official home. And like my father, I grew up here—learned to fucking ride before I could walk.”
Several Brothers banged their fists on the table in support. His grandfather was a legend.
“I love this club—my Brothers—the Life. I’ve bled for you, and you’ve bled for me. I am my Brother’s keeper.” He glanced toward Lily. She looked so tired and frail, swallowed by the high-backed chair. “Three days ago I almost made a fatal mistake. And as your president, I refuse to risk your lives again because I can’t control my rage.”
“What are you saying?” Arni asked.
“Don’t do it, Brother.” Sampson stared at him in shock.
Murmurs followed, but Lang gestured for them to quiet down. “As of today…” He removed his vest and laid it on the table with reverence, patch side up. “I’m no longer the president of the Sons of Odin.” He stared down at his cut, feeling as stripped and vulnerable without his colors on as he would without skin. “My heart is unfairly divided between the charter, my family, and the woman I intend to marry.” Lily’s gaze met his, her eyes wide with wonderment.
Silence hung over the room.
“I’m unfit to serve this club in any capacity, and ask if you’ll consider letting me retire my patches in good standing. As the bylaws specify, the vice president will assume leadership until a special vote is held by the officers.” Lang’s vision went blurry, and for the first time since his parents died, he felt like he might shed tears.
Unable to stay, he exited without a word, leaving half his soul on the table with his vest.
He walked the few steps down to the beach, silence a welcome companion. In the end, it wasn’t his father’s words that had made him stay true to who he was, but his mother’s. A simple quote from her favorite author, Stephen Chbosky, that she had always shared whenever he got down as a teenager—We accept the love we think we deserve.
Persuasion Page 19
