by Sophia Gray
Ethan dropped to his knees, pushing the tent down into its bag. That made sense, but it made it so much harder to hold onto his anger. He needed the anger to get him through. “Yeah, well,” he said. It was probably the weakest attempt at an argument he’d ever given.
“Yeah, well,” Penelope repeated. “Don’t take it personally until you know it’s personal. That’s all I’m saying.”
Ethan’s phone buzzed and he grabbed it. The text wasn’t from Amelia, though. He was let down for a second, but then confusion took over.
“Huh,” he said. “It’s William.”
“Yeah?” Jimmy and Kenny had joined Ryan and Taylor. It was practically a meeting.
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “He says he wants to meet up tonight at headquarters. So, I would have had to head out anyway.”
“We’ll let the rest of them know,” Kenny said. “No need to worry about any of the rest of it.”
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, slinging his luggage onto the back of the bike and strapping it down. He was glad that Kenny was always ready to step up at the last minute. “Don’t get too crazy without me here to watch you.”
“I’ll cancel the hookers,” Ryan said. “See you tomorrow.”
Ethan pulled his helmet on and revved the bike. Maybe the long ride back would calm him down, but he doubted it could do much for the fact that he wouldn’t have Amelia’s arms around him.
# # #
Ethan walked into his house and dropped the leather travel bag onto the living room floor. It made thud that seemed to reverberate around the small house. He’d gotten so used to being greeted by Amelia that the emptiness of the rooms he’d become so accustomed to before her grated on his strained nerves. Had his house always been this damn quiet?
All the little touches were still there. The coffee cup she’d commandeered for her tea sat on the table in front of the couch. One of his hoodies was hanging over the arm of the couch, too. She usually got cold in the mornings. He picked up the gray shirt. It was halfway to his nose before he caught himself.
What in the hell was he doing? He balled the hoodie up and headed down the hall to his tiny washer and dryer. He threw the hoodie in as hard as he could. Then he grabbed the laundry basket and went around the house, grabbing anything and everything that he could find that might have captured her scent. He even stripped the bed, leaving the pillows on the floor where they landed.
He threw all of it into the washing machine with the hoodie and doused it in the old laundry detergent that Amelia didn’t like. Then he looked around for something else to do. The trouble was, he couldn’t find anything.
He dug his phone out of the luggage and sent William a text.
Where do you want to meet?
The reply was so quick that he knew William must have been waiting for the question.
HQ, after I get off of work. It’ll be late.
Fine by me. Just give me a call.
For all Ethan knew, William was going to show up and turn in his colors tonight. That was the last thing Ethan wanted. For one thing, William was the only remaining member who’d rode with his dad. Losing him would be like losing all that remained of the original The Angel’s Keepers.
For another, Ethan really hated the thought of having bad blood with the older man. He respected William. At least, he respected William for the most part and he knew he only wanted what was best for the club. He’d overstepped his boundaries this time, but his heart was in the right place.
And hell, after this morning, Ethan wasn’t sure the man had overstepped. Maybe Amelia was telling her father everything she knew about the motorcycle club. Not that there was much to say.
Either way, Ethan had to get out of the house. There was no way that he could stand the silence any longer.
# # #
“I thought you were off with your club for the weekend.” Leah, the front desk organizational machine at the mechanic shop said when he walked in.
“Tell me someone didn’t call in and I’ll head back home right now,” Ethan challenged, not wanting to answer the implied question. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and waited.
“Are you joking?” she asked. “We’re down by not one, but two guys today. Casey hurt his shoulder again, poor guy. And Jeremy is probably either sleeping one off or tying one on, but the point is that he’s not here.” She pushed her hair back and went on, typing up an invoice while they spoke. “I’m not saying I’m not glad to see you, Ethan, but what are you doing here?”
He winked at her. “We'll just agree to say that I’m a mind reader and I’ll get to work, how about that? What’s first on the list?”
“If you’re up for a challenge, we’ve got a ‘65 Mustang sitting back there that’s acting up. Nobody can figure out what the problem is.”
“Now that sounds perfect,” Ethan said eagerly. “Thanks, Leah, you’re a hell of a woman.”
“Shut up, Ethan, I know. Have fun with the Mustang.”
Hours later, his lower back was killing him. His hand ached from where he’d smacked it against the engine block turning a stubborn bolt. He smelled like transmission fluid and he was covered in a light but thorough coating of oil and grease. And the Mustang hummed perfectly, without skipping a beat.
Ethan glanced around the shop, but everyone else had gone home, so there was no one to brag to. It still felt pretty good, though. It was nice to have one thing go his way today.
As he cleaned off the tools he’d used and began to put them back where they belonged, he purposefully kept his mind on the relatively mundane task. It helped that he seemed to be the only one in the whole damn shop that could manage to put things back where they belonged. Tonight, he was actually grateful that he worked with a crew of total slobs.
It was nearly midnight and the shop was organized to within an inch of its life when Ethan’s phone finally rang.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Headed over to HQ,” William barked. “I’ll meet you there in about twenty minutes.”
“Sounds fine.” Ethan disconnected the call and took one last glance around the shop for anything else that needed to be put away because hell, he wasn’t at William’s beck and call. When he didn't find anything out of place, he wiped his hands, set the alarm, and tugged the rolling door down after him. He really hoped this was going to go well, but if it didn’t...well...what was one more shitty development in the grand scheme of things?
Chapter 26
Ethan
Ethan pulled the garage door down after he parked his bike and took his helmet off. William’s bike was there, just to the left of his own, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Ethan was just starting to wonder what was going on when William walked in from the office section of the HQ holding two beers.
“What, the beer in this fridge isn’t good enough for you?” Ethan asked, taking the bottle William held out.
“The baby fridge get’s ‘em colder,” William answered.
Ethan nodded and they both busied themselves twisting the caps off of the glass bottles. Ethan was content to let William start the conversation. He was the one, after all, who’d walked out.
“I saw the convoy go by yesterday,” William said after a moment. “Where’d you all run off to?”
“We headed up to the Valley of Fire,” Ethan answered. “Most of them are still there. We were camping for the weekend.”
William looked surprised. “What the hell are you down here for, then?”
“You called me,” Ethan reminded him. “You said you wanted to meet up. What was I supposed to do?”
“You coulda told me to fuck off ’til you got back.”
“Believe it or not, I’m interested in what you have to say,” Ethan said. “And I’m interested in knowing why you left, too. I’d like to make it right if I can.”
William sighed. “I left because I think gettin’ involved with that politician’s daughter is a fuckin’ stupid thing to do,” he said bluntly. “And I still do, no
matter what you say.” He put his beer down on one of the toolboxes. “But it ain’t my business what you do in your private life. As long as it doesn’t spill over to the club.”
“And do you think it has?” Ethan asked, trying to stay level headed.
William shook his head. “Yeah. And no at the same time.”
“Well as long as you’re not making it complicated,” Ethan muttered.
“If we’ve got the money to hit the road and the campground, you must be doing something right,” the other man admitted begrudgingly.
“The way I have been since Dad died?” Ethan couldn’t resist pressing the issue.
“Don’t get that started. Me and you both know you haven’t given this club nearly the time and attention your old man did. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if you run this place because you love it or if you run it because you’d feel guilty as all hell if you didn’t.”
Ethan stared. “How long have you been thinking that?”
“Since about the time you took over.”
As Ethan stood there, stunned into silence, William went on. “Tell me something: before all of this shit hit the fan, did you know how much we had in the treasury?”
“No. That’s Taylor’s--”
“How about how to find our membership roster?”
“No, Jimmy and Kenny--”
“When’s the last time you called a meeting instead of just showing up for one that Kenny put together?”
Ethan put his beer down with a thump. William simply hooked his thumbs in his belts loops and eyed Ethan.
“And don’t you go gettin’ mad at me,” he said placidly. “Your old man would have known all of that without havin’ to think twice and you damn well know it. Can you blame me for thinkin’ you might be more interested in goin’ to bed with that woman than doin’ what we needed you to do?”
“I stepped up,” Ethan said defensively. Deep down, he knew William was right. But that didn’t mean that he was ready to admit it. “When--”
“When she ran out on you,” William finished. “I’m surprised you’re here now. She still back in the Valley or did she come home with you?”
Ethan cleared his throat. “She...we’re taking a sort of a break. You know, a step back to figure out what’s best for the kid. We don’t wanna rush anything and screw it up.”
William nodded as if his point had just been proven. “And if she’d been there, keepin’ you all warm at night, would you have come down here to talk to me? Or would you have told me to fuck off ’til Monday when you were back in town?”
Ethan knew the answer to the question. He just didn’t want to give it.
“See?” William questioned. “Marcus would have died for this place. You just do it ’cause you have to. And that’s why I don’t wanna be a part of it anymore. It’s ain’t even the same club.”
“Why didn’t Dad ask you to run it?” Ethan demanded suddenly. “Since you know so goddamned much?”
“I don’t know,” William answered gruffly. “I wanted him to. Hell, I did everything but come right out and ask. But he wanted you to take over. I figured he must have seen something in you that I didn’t, so I kept my mouth shut.”
“’Til now.”
“’Til now,” the older man agreed. “And I’m gettin’ ready to walk, Ethan.”
“What if I--” Ethan cut off his own sentence. He’d heard a noise in the outer office, something like the sound of a desk drawer opening and closing. There shouldn’t have been anyone in there. He and William were the only key carrying members left in town. “Did you hear that?” he asked, lowering his voice.
“Yeah,” William answered.
He’d gone still at the noise, too. Both men moved closer to the wall, away from the small, high window in the office door. They dropped into the shadows before they spoke again. And then they kept their voices as low as they could. The walls were thick, but not so thick that they couldn’t be heard if they weren’t careful.
“What was it?” Ethan asked.
His heartbeat had kicked up the tempo and he was really hoping William would have some kind of explanation. He’d thought his day couldn’t get worse, but a break in would prove him wrong.
“Hell if I know,” William replied. “But it sure ain’t one of us out there.”
“You’re sure you didn’t tell anyone to stop by and meet you?”
“Think I was planning on gettin’ you jumped?” William asked, but the jab was halfhearted. “Shut up and listen, maybe we can figure it out.”
Ethan was more than happy to do so. Whoever was out there clearly thought they were alone. File drawers rattled and then someone spoke.
“You doin’ this or what? I don’t want to stick around all night.”
Ethan frowned with concentration. The voice sounded slightly familiar but he couldn’t place it.
“Fuck off, man. It’s gotta be just like Miller and Brewer wanted or it’s gonna be our asses on the line.”
“Who the hell are Miller and Brewer?” William asked in a very low voice. “You know ‘em?”
Ethan shrugged. “Never heard of them.”
“Did you put it in the fireproof box first?” The first voice asked.
“Jesus, do you think I’m an idiot? Yeah, I did. Get out of here, go wait in the car. You’re making it too damn hard to concentrate.”
Ethan and William came to the same realization at the same time. The first voice belonged to Michael Slattery, the asshole who’d been hitting on Amelia the night Ethan met her. The second voice was Michael’s right hand man. Ethan didn’t know the guy’s real name, but he went by Bear.
“Son of a bitch,” William growled, shoving Ethan out of the way and shouldering the door open before Ethan could stop him.
He would put money on William against Michael any day. Michael was an easily intimidated, big talking pussy. But Bear wasn’t. At least not from what Ethan had heard through the grapevine. He went plunging into the room after William. Maybe he could deescalate the situation before it got too out of hand.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Michael demanded, his voice so comically high pitched with fear that Ethan wanted to laugh. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
“No, that’s you,” Ethan said, surveying the situation in Stratton it came down to a fight. “You’re the one who’s not supposed to be here, Michael.”
Michael blocked the door and normally that wouldn’t have been a problem. But he held a Molotov cocktail in one hand. He was shaking slightly and the gasoline sloshed around in the bottle.
Bear was behind them, standing at the desk, a fireproof box in his hands. Just before he slammed the lid shut, Ethan saw bags of white powder. He wasn’t exactly up on the price of the stuff, but that was a pretty big box. It was probably more cocaine than he could pay for with his full year’s pay.
“What the fuck is this about?” William demanded. “And just who in the hell are Miller and Brewer?”
Michael’s face blanched ghost pale. “What? How did you...How do you know about them?”
“I guess they heard us talking,” Bear said, casually situating the box in the bottom desk drawer. “But, hey, that’s why I brought a gun.”
“I don’t know, man.”
“Would you rather let Brewer get ahold of you?” Bear snapped. “You heard what he did to that guy in Colombia. That’s one jigsaw puzzle no one is gonna put back together.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think we was gonna have to kill anyone,” Michael said, the Molotov cocktail in his hand sloshing even more. “I didn’t...” He turned back to Ethan and William. “Why the hell are you here?” he shouted. “You weren’t supposed to be here!”
“It’s our goddamned club!” William shouted back.
Ethan repressed a crazy urge to laugh when Michael shrank back in the face of William’s roar.
“Okay, look,” he said. “Let’s not get crazy. No one has to get hurt.” Christ, he sounded like an after school special.
>
“Actually, you do.” Bear moved out from behind the desk, leveling the gun at them. “And if you don’t shut your fucking mouths, I’ll let you burn up instead of making it quick with a bullet to the head.”
William snarled. “Get fucked you piece of--”
Ethan felt like things went in slow motion as William began his insult. He saw the gun come up, aimed right in the center of William’s chest. He lowered his shoulder, knocking the Sergeant at Arms off of his feet. He barely felt the pain of the bullet when it went through his left shoulder, but there was a lot more force than he’d imagined.
