by Eve R. Hart
Her question was a good one and after the night I’d had, I would have said not really. And while I’d been scared out of my mind, it hadn’t been enough for me to want to run.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Before last night, I’d never seen anything that made me feel like I needed to worry. But last night, a group of people shot up the shop.”
“While you were there?!”
Okay, clearly our mother hadn’t filled her in on everything.
“Um, yeah. I’m fine. Brand is fine, I think. He got hit by a bullet, but he said he wasn’t bad. They took him to jail, it was awful.”
“Cami,” Laurel said with a tone that made me pause. I guess I could see where everything I’d just said sent up red flags. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because I support you and what you want to do, but that sounds really bad. Horribly dangerous, even. How can you be so calm about it? I mean, for Christ’s sake, you were shot at.”
“Yeah, I really can’t even begin to explain any of it. Despite all that, I feel safe when I’m with him. I feel…whole.”
Her face softened at my words. There was simply no other way to describe it. He had worked his way into my heart and imprinted himself onto my soul.
“Anyway, what I was getting at, is that mom threatened to bring the club down if I went anywhere near the shop or any of them again. So, I feel like I’m stuck. I don’t know what to do. She wasn’t just saying that to have the last word, though it did work. I finally got the courage and strength to stand up to her and then she went and knocked me back down.”
I could tell by her face that she didn’t know what to say. I didn’t really either. I loved Brand, and the most important thing to me was keeping him safe.
“It will all be alright,” she said with false comfort ringing in her words. “Don’t do anything crazy. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”
“Thanks, Laurel.”
Though I was sure that our parents would have just loved that. They were the ones paying for the apartment, after all.
“They took my car and phone. I have nothing, Laurel. I don’t even have his number to tell him goodbye. And frankly, I’m too afraid to do so. I have a feeling that I’d crack. I could call the shop but honestly, I’m so scared that mom will find out, even though I know that’s dumb. How would she know if I called him?”
Maybe it was best to just sever ties. Cut it off right then and there. Live with the perfect memory of what I’d gotten a taste of for a split second.
“They wanted to ship me off to live with Aunt Hillary,” I said and because I was pretty much drunk at this point, I started laughing hysterically. “Can you believe that?”
“No,” she gasped as her hand flew dramatically to her chest. “They wanted to send you to The Farm? Like some unwanted animal?”
I laughed, short, choppy and loud. That was exactly what it felt like.
“Yes,” I said with a frantic nod.
“I knew mom was hard on you, but I never knew it would get like that.”
There was a long moment of silence as we both got lost in our thoughts.
“So,” I said, needing to change the direction of everything. “How is the wedding planning going?”
“You sure that you want to talk about this?” Her voice was soft and full of uncertainty.
“Yes, please. I want to see you happy and I’m here for you, for whatever you might need.”
That was all it took. She rattled on about everything. Every single thing. I didn’t mind, in fact, I welcomed the distraction. I could tell she was avoiding anything that had to do with our mother and I was grateful.
We polished off a second bottle of wine and she uncorked a third. I was way past drunk at this point, and pretty sure that I’d drank way more than her. But I didn’t care. The alcohol flowed through my veins and made me forget everything that was sitting heavy on my shoulders and weighing down my brain.
“You do want this, right?” I asked out of nowhere. I hadn’t meant to put doubts out there, but I think I might have anyway.
Her face went flat as she looked down at the invitation options that she’d pulled out to show me.
“Brice is perfect. He understands how things are and fits into my world. He’s caring and sweet. And he wants nothing more than to take care of me.”
Her answer seemed to be lacking something but my swimmy mind couldn’t make any sense of what it might be.
“Does he, you know, rock your world?” I asked, my cheeks heating because this was definitely something we’d been brought up not to talk about.
“Did you just say ‘rock your world,’ Cami?” She laughed. “That’s it, I’m cutting you off. Maybe you should try to sleep a bit and hope that you don’t wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
She continued to laugh but didn’t move to take the wine glass out of my hand. Boy, I was going to feel this tomorrow.
“Brand,” I said, nearly choking on his name. “He is just, wow. I can’t describe it. He touches me and I get goosebumps. I feel warm and shaky inside. His smile sends shivers down my spine. And the way he looks at me…I feel like I’m the only person in the world. Oh, and the sex, I mean, it only happened that one time, but it was nothing short of mind-blowing. Like, I left the earth for a little bit.”
I came out of my glazed-over gaze to look at her. With her fingers pressed against her lips and her eyes wide, she remained silent. I wondered if I’d said something wrong.
“That’s…really beautiful,” she whispered.
Then she was moving, taking our empty glasses and the half-empty bottle of wine into the kitchen. I didn’t know what was going on, but as the silence surrounded me, my lids grew heavy. I was pretty sure my eyes closed before my body slumped to the side to lay down on the couch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Brand
We now had tension all around. It was hanging thick in the air that filled the clubhouse. Everyone that knew what was going on was walking around on edge.
This included me.
Iron informed us that no one was happy about the pause in shipments, but left it at that. This had only left me with a million questions in my head. Did we need to watch our backs with the Russians and Irish now, too? I hoped to God not.
Pissed as hell and not one to lay down and take shit, Iron came up with a plan. One that I was currently not only in on, but apart of as well. And I couldn’t even say that I wasn’t happy about it. The detective was about to see how pissed I could get. I’d already decided that I wasn’t going hold back. I got that his life had been shit, but I not only needed answers, I needed him to feel it in his bones that he couldn’t fuck with us and get away with it.
I didn’t dig into this part of me very often. I could count on one hand how many times I’d gone full dark. I may have been the fun, easygoing one, but never let the dimples fool you, if you went after the people I cared about or harmed them in any way, I’d bring the devil out and let him play.
And that was what Detective Mullins had done. He’d known about what was going on, and instead of stopping it, he used it to his advantage. I shouldn’t have been the one in jail last night, it should have been those assholes that opened fire on Cami.
As I sat there, ready and waiting to go, I could feel my eyes grow dark. Tonight there would be no playing around.
“Let’s roll,” Iron said, walking to the front door with wide, purposeful steps.
I jumped up and fell in line behind B-ry and Cable.
Hours later, I was crouched behind a wall in a pitch dark house, my hairs stood on end as the key clicked the front lock open.
I would have liked to tell you that we timed this out perfectly, but that wasn’t the case so much. In fact, we’d been waiting there a good three hours before headlights had turned into the driveway indicating that it was finally time.
Three hours.
That was a lot of time to sit there in near silence because we were trying to kee
p conversations to a minimum. Three fucking hours of thinking about Cami and how this life had screwed me yet again. How I’d found the most amazing woman who just felt right and before I even had a chance to let myself believe that she wanted to be with me, it was all gone. With a text, no less. A few emotionless words and I felt my heart shatter.
Yes, I was a sappy fuck, I wouldn’t ever try to deny that. When I said I was all in, that I wanted it to mean something, I had never spoken truer words.
The light cut on and I could clearly see a relaxed Iron looking like he’d made himself at home on the detective’s couch, arms spread out along the back and one foot casually rested on the opposite knee.
“The fuck?!” Detective Mullins barked and from the shift in of the fabric of his suit, I imagined he was going for his gun.
“I wouldn’t,” was all that Iron said.
“Well, shit,” he mumbled and I knew that B-ry had walked up behind him.
“Have a seat.” Iron nodded to the leather chair across from him.
The detective finally stepped into my view as he took a seat. I could see he was holding back and the clenching of his jaw was a dead give away. I rose, not making a sound so he didn’t know that I was there. With his back to me, I studied him as best as I could. He was trying to play off the cool demeanor, but I saw the tightness in his shoulders.
“We got a problem. And I don’t like problems,” Iron said. He nodded to me, letting me know that he was the one talking, but he would follow my lead. The move was so slight that I wondered if the detective had even taken notice of it. I gave a jerk of my chin, telling him to go on. “You came after my boy with some bullshit charges. More importantly, you knew what was going to go down and you let it happen. So, in a sense, you threated my club. Big fucking problem, right there. You know how I handle problems like that?”
His tone was cool and cold at the same time. If I didn’t know the man so well, I might have felt the ice in my veins.
I stepped up, gun gripped in my hand and brought it up to rest against the side of the detective’s head. He actually winced when I cocked it. My body was in his peripheral, but my hand wasn’t. He couldn’t see that my finger was resting along the side of the frame and not actually on the trigger.
I was dark, but I wasn’t that dark. I had no intentions of putting a bullet in him right then, not like this, and I knew Iron wanted the same thing. Scare the shit out of him, yes, but kill him wasn’t in the plan just yet. We’d give him a chance to say his peace and make this right.
His fingers tightened their hold on the arms of the chair, the nail beds turning white. He was surrounded, Cable having come out and taken to my side. He wasn’t going anywhere and he knew it would be dumb-as-fuck to try anything.
“You’re fucking stupid for coming here like this. Pulling a goddamn gun on someone with a badge. I’ll take you all down.”
“No, you won’t,” Iron said. “If you’re lucky, you’ll be alive to not follow through with that threat. Who shot up the shop?”
“I don’t know. I only knew it was going to happen. One of the guys on the Gang Task Force has an informant. He came to me with the info, knowing that I have my eye on your club. But he wouldn’t give me any other details.”
“So, how’d you know Brand would be there. If you’d done your homework, you’d know the shop was long closed by then and no one should’ve been there. Or was it just pure luck that he’d stayed late that night?”
“Luck,” the detective mumbled. “The only reason I didn’t try and stop it was because the place was supposed to be empty. All I know is that someone wanted to send you a message. What that message was supposed to be, I got no clue. Wasn’t my concern. Still isn’t.”
I could hear the hatred and disgust dripping from his tone. If I wasn’t mistaken, it sounded like he was glad I was there and he was almost angry that I hadn’t been hurt worse. Maybe he wished me dead. Who the fuck knew?
“I was going to find the cocaine and come and arrest you. That was the plan, but you were there, so it all worked out for the better.” His eyes cut to the side as he spoke, looking at me as best as he could in his current position.
“Hate me all you want, fine, but there was an innocent person there. How the fuck does that play into your plan?” The words came out of me in a deep, angry growl.
“Miss Benson was a surprise. How was I supposed to know that she liked to get her cunt dirty with scum like you?”
Crack.
His head whipped to the side as my fist collided with his jaw.
“Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t you ever say another thing like that about her again, asshole.”
Just so you know, punching people never got easier. I mean I had no problem doing it, he deserved it one hundred percent. But the pain that currently radiated through my hand let me know I’d be feeling it for a few days. I tramped that feeling down, my face a mask of pure deadly anger.
He laughed. Actually laughed.
“You really think that she would go for a guy like you? She couldn’t even bring you home to mommy and daddy. You can’t be that dense.”
“Here’s what I want,” Iron said taking back control. “I want to know who fucking did this and I want to know that it will not ever happen again. You will get the investigation dropped on Connor as well as make sure his suspension is lifted. Then, I want you to take your files and whatever you think you’ve got on us and burn them.”
“It was a one-time thing, from what I understand. I can’t help you out as far as who, figure that shit out yourself. I’m sure you have ways of doing that.” He eyed Iron for a long moment. “The girl should be safe, for one, I don’t think they even know about her, and two, they wouldn’t fuck with the rich. That’s just asking for a kind of trouble that none of you want. Conner can kiss my ass, I’m not putting my badge on the line to help him out. He’s no better than you.”
I would like to tell you that he was done, and I almost thought he was as the room grew silent for far too many beats as we waited for him to tell us he was going to stop trying to go after us.
“And fuck you, I’m not backing down.” Ah, there it was. The detective seemed to have a backbone, or a death wish, whichever way you chose to look at it.
“Have it your way,” Iron said as he stood slowly in a creepy and menacing way, his eyes locked on Detective Mullins as he towered over the dumb as dirt detective. “I might leave you alive when I walk out of here, but I can’t say the same for the Irish…”
With that, I raised my gun and cracked him good over the head with the butt of it. He fell limp in the chair and we all filed out the back door, slipping unseen through the darkness of night with ease.
I couldn’t say that I was completely thrilled with the lack of information we’d gotten, but I did feel better that I’d gotten to punch the man at least once. I was still pissed at his words. No one talked about Cami like that. She may not have been there to hear it but that didn’t mean it was okay. She didn’t deserve that. She was beautiful and amazing, and the fact that she let me in—as well as Sketch and Blade—proved that despite her upbringing, she had a heart bigger than any one of us.
“I need some whiskey after that shit,” B-ry said as we dismounted our bikes and walked up to the front door of the club. I could agree, getting hammered didn’t seem like the worst idea, even though I knew that I wouldn’t. There was still too much going on for me to not be ready at a moments notice.
“Iron,” Mouse said as soon as we stepped over the threshold. “It’s Sketch. He came back busted up really bad. He’s in the Med room right now. Charming is in there now trying to patch him up, but he swears he needs to go to the hospital. Says Sketch won’t let it happen.”
“Christ,” Iron said and then he was moving back out the door and across the lot with me hot on his heels.
Can this night get any worse?
It was probably best if I didn’t ask that, not even in my head.
I heard the groaning and cou
ghing before I even walked through the Med room door. What I wasn’t prepared for was to see Sketch covered in blood and his face barely recognizable.
“Shit. Sketch? What happened?” I blurted out before Iron had a chance to ask.
“I took the wrong person by surprise. Eh, lucky for me I hadn’t pulled my piece so he didn’t shoot me right away. Just had a bunch of his men show me that I should never show up uninvited.” He snorted like something was ridiculously funny. “Like they’d ever send me a fucking invite. Stupid fucks.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose then rubbed the sides of my head. There was a migraine hanging just on the edge of making itself known. I could only imagine how Iron was feeling.
“What the fuck did you do?” Iron asked, sounding as if he was talking to a troublesome child and unsurprised at the shit they had gotten themselves into.
“I went there to talk to the leader of D13. He didn’t like me coming up in his crib all sneaky like. I’m good at that shit, you know that, right, Prez? Anyway, oh, about six of them used me as a punching bag for a good long minute, then he let me talk.”
There was coughing and Sketch wrapped his arm around his middle like he was trying to hold his ribs still. Shit. That was not good.
“Charm?” Iron asked and the unsaid question was the same thing I was thinking.
“They’re bruised pretty good, but not broken,” Charming answered.
“I’m fine, just need a nap and I’ll be as good as new. Anyways, you wanna hear what I got to say, or not?” Sketch groaned then carried on without an answer. “They don’t know anything about what happened. It wasn’t them. But Dion said that his lil cuz was getting some big balls all of a sudden. Didn’t get a name, but I got some kinda chin jut that made me believe he was gonna handle it.”
“Fuck this is a mess,” Iron said studying Sketch like he was still trying to make sense of everything he’d said. “You need a doctor, and I’m not asking if you want one?”
“Nah, I’m good, Prez.”
And then his eyes closed and his body started to relax.
