“Aw, I think she likes me better, bro.”
Murphy rolls his eyes and grabs a bag from the fridge. “Here, then you can give her this.” He hands me a cold plastic ring, which Alexa grabs for almost immediately.
“You like that, kiddo?” I ask while she gnaws on whatever the hell it is.
“Why you over here so early, groom?” Murphy asks after a lengthy yawn.
“Fire investigator wants to meet with me.”
“Fuck. Really?” He turns, his gaze sweeping over the living room. “Rock going with you?”
“He wanted to make a call first.” I glance down the hall. “Where’s Heidi?”
“Sleeping. She’s been up the last couple nights with her,” he says, running his hand over Alexa’s head.
Alexa throws her arms in the air and lunges for Murphy, almost tipping out of my arms. “Whoa—”
“I got her.” Murphy swings her into his arms, and she settles down.
“We’re clear. Let’s go,” Rock calls out as he thunders down the stairs. “Morning, baby,” he says, stopping to kiss Alexa’s forehead and ruffle her hair. “You good?” he asks Murphy.
“Yup. If you’re not back by ten-thirty, I’ll go to the park and check on things.”
Confident we’ll be back in time, I follow Rock out to the garage and we head down the mountain to Hog Heaven.
Brand’s already at the restaurant. He chose a table with two chairs in the back, which is good because both of us weren’t gonna fit in one of the tiny booths this place has. Rock decided to wait outside, but Brand notices him and smirks at me. “You guys ever travel alone?”
“No.”
He nods slowly and kicks out the chair across from him. “Sit. I ain’t here to arrest you.”
I ease the chair out farther and drop into it, casually leaning back and lifting my chin. “I don’t have all day.”
“What’s your hurry?”
“My wedding is in a couple hours.”
“Oh.” He nods slowly. “Sorry.”
Frank stops by and fills my coffee cup but doesn’t ask if we need anything else.
Brand and I stare at each other for a few seconds before I sit up. “Listen, you’re really not my type. So if you brought me here to stare into each other’s eyes all morning, it’s a wasted effort.”
He snorts and pulls out a folder. “I feel like you’re hiding something.” When I don’t respond, or even blink, he continues. “Yet, I really don’t think you had anything to do with the fire.”
“Good.”
“Arson investigations are complex, expensive, and lengthy.” He drums his fingers on the table for a few beats, then pulls an iPad out of his folder and sets it on the table. “Off the record, I’m being told to back off this investigation.” He glances out the window at Rock. “I can guess why.”
I still keep my mouth shut.
“None of my findings support you or your partners as having any involvement in the fire, so the people suggesting I drop this case will get their way. If there was even a hint that it was part of some larger terrorist attack or something, we’d be all over it no matter who was callin’ in favors.” He pins me with a sharp look. “But a disgruntled employee who tried to vandalize your building and died in the accidental fire that resulted? We can’t waste resources on that.”
“Okay,” I answer carefully.
“Your insurance company is a different matter. They’re only interested in my opinion if it supports their theory.” He tosses his card on the table. “I’m qualified to testify as an expert witness if it comes to that.”
I take the card and stick it in my wallet. “I appreciate that.” I mean it, too. As Teller said, this guy’s rep is solid. Having him testify on my behalf or even the threat of having him testify might turn things in my favor with the insurance company. “But you didn’t drag me down here this early because you need some side work.”
“No. I didn’t.” He flips open the iPad cover and flicks the screen on. After searching for a few minutes, he passes the tablet to me and reaches over to hit play.
A grainy video fills the screen. No sound. Black and White. Taken from an awkward angle above. Gas station. It looks familiar, but because of the shitty lighting, I can’t be sure. A car I recognize drives up to one of the pumps.
I recognize it because it’s the same black car that took Trinity last night.
Ransom.
My jaw clenches, and I work hard not to show any response. Two figures get out very close together. One pale, tall, and skinny. The other tall, dark, and bulky.
Neither of them turn their faces up toward the camera. They don’t have to for me to recognize them.
Twitch and Ransom.
Ransom shoves something against Twitch’s side, and I don’t need to be a cop to know it’s a gun. Twitch shakes his head. Ransom turns and lifts something out of the back seat.
Gas cans.
Brand leans over and pauses the video. “We just received this. All the stations in the area were told to check their footage. The Mobil right down the fucking street from your gym found this and handed it over last night.”
“Jesus.” My heart’s hammering so hard. Ransom’s dead, but fuck do I want to kill him all over again.
“You recognize either of them?” Brand asks.
“That’s Twitch.” There’s no point in pretending I don’t know it’s him.
“And the other one?”
I lift my shoulders. “Too hard to tell.”
He cocks his head and makes an are you shitting me? face. “Let me tell you who I think it is.” He taps the screen over Twitch’s cut. The small Lost Kings MC patch on the front can barely be seen, but that doesn’t seem to stop Brand. “After running your prints, your affiliation with the Lost Kings MC popped up.”
“Club’s got nothing to do with Furious.” My couldn’t-care-less tone doesn’t seem to convince him.
“Yeah. Right.” He taps the screen again and the video unfreezes. Ransom turns and Brand pauses the screen again. Tapping a tattoo on Ransom’s neck. “Now, this asshole isn’t wearing his cut. Not a surprise, since Gang Taskforce says the Vipers suddenly started disappearing about eighteen months ago.” He makes this cocky “poof” gesture with his hands that almost makes me snort with laughter. “But when you blow this up on a big screen, the Viper’s insignia is pretty clear.”
He hits the screen again and lets the video finish.
Twitch shakes his head. Ransom slugs him in the gut. The back door of the car opens. An arm—probably Kidd—reaches out, grabbing Twitch and yanking him into the backseat. Ransom slams the door. He fills two gas cans, puts them in the trunk and the car drives out of the shot.
Rage pours through me. My fist’s in my mouth, and I’m biting down on my fingers hard enough to leave marks. I figured it went down something like this. But guessing and seeing it play out before your eyes are two different things.
Twitch fought ’til the end.
Brand observes my reaction with a blank expression. “I’m guessing you know who that is with your prospect.”
I tip my head up and glare at him.
He holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. I figure you and your—” he glances out the window at Rock again. “—brothers will handle it your way. I just thought you should see this.”
What the fuck am I supposed to say—thanks?
He pushes a folder across the table at me. “This is my official report. Yesterday afternoon, I ruled the cause as incendiary—juvenile fire-setting. Your insurance should cover losses caused by vandalism and malicious mischief. I don’t know if the fact that the young man was employed by you will muddy that up, though.”
Christ, he determined that Twitch caused the fire and then a few hours later realized the poor kid was a victim himself, and I can tell it’s not sitting well with Brand.
He can get in line, because it sure as fuck ain’t sitting well with me, either.
I really wish we’d let Ransom suf
fer longer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Another queen is crowned…
It’s not easy to shake off my meeting with Brand. The sick feeling clings to me as I leave Hog Heaven and meet Rock in the parking lot.
He raises an eyebrow as I approach.
“Not here,” I mutter.
Once I’m on my bike, headed back to the clubhouse, some of the ugliness fades.
I’m marrying Trinity in a few hours.
That’s all that matters today. The rest of this…stuff I’ll deal with later.
Rock’s not going to let me off that easy. He pushes me into the war room as soon as we step foot inside the clubhouse.
I explain the video and everything else Brand told me.
“Jesus Christ. Poor kid.”
“We let Ransom off too easy.”
“No kidding.” He pulls out a bottle of Scotch, and we sit at the table and drink to Twitch.
When we’re finished, Rock’s still wearing a serious expression. It hits me that my best friend looks tired. Not I-got-woken-up-at-dawn-by-a-screaming-baby tired. More like a what-did-I-sign-up-for tired. Even before the loss of Furious, the wedding and finishing our house was consuming a lot of my attention, and Rock’s been picking up my slack. Something I haven’t bothered to thank him for or even acknowledge.
“I know I’ve been all wrapped up in—”
“Stop right there.”
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say.”
“I can guess.” He stares straight ahead, not speaking for a second. “It’s what we do. Help each other out. Right?”
I nod and wait for him to continue.
“I’m so…happy for you two. I love that girl. The two of you…you’re two different people now. Better. Good for each other.”
“You getting’ choked up, prez?”
“Maybe. Deal with it.”
Unable to get in touch with any more of my feelings this morning, I stand. “My suit still safe in your closet?”
He follows me out of the war room. “Hope doesn’t seem to know what her own closet’s for, so no reason for her to be in mine.”
I burst out laughing. “Now, that’s not fair. You knew she was messy when you married her.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You sticking up for my girl?”
“Guess so.” My gaze strays to the stairway. “The girls upstairs getting ready?”
“Yeah, Murphy sent me a text while I was waiting for you. House is clear.”
“Let’s suit up.”
He rolls his eyes. “Christ, I never thought I’d hear that come out of your mouth.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
About an hour later, we’re at the park and I’m a lot less amused.
“I feel like an asshole,” I grumble, tugging at the sleeves of the suit I’m wearing specifically for Trinity. Because it seemed to mean a lot to her. She better fuckin’ love it.
“You look like one, too,” Rock says with a grin. I’m pretty sure I had that coming, so I resist the urge to punch him.
“How can you stand this?” I ask, yanking on the collar that barely fits around my big neck.
“I climb into one like once a decade, brother. Didn’t you do enough bitching on our way here? This is an important day.”
“Fuck, yeah it is. You’re lucky a woman like Trinity would marry you,” Ravage says, smacking my arm as he walks by.
“Don’t I know it.”
“How you feelin’?” Murphy asks. He has one hand on Heidi, who’s carrying Alexa. Someone stuck her in a frilly, flowery dress and pulled her hair into two little pony tails. I’ll admit, she’s adorable.
I nod at Alexa. “Cute dress. You pick it out?” I ask Murphy.
“Fuck you.”
“Would you stop saying fuck around her?” Heidi says, then realizes her mistake. “Dammit.”
“I think that’s a lost cause, Heidi-girl,” Rock says.
“Where’s your brother?” I ask Heidi.
“Last I saw, he was talking to the Park Ranger. There were some noise complaints because of all the bikes.”
“Shit.”
Rock slaps my chest. “Stay put. I’ll handle it.”
“Yeah, I don’t want Trin gettin’ upset. Make sure she doesn’t find out.”
As if they knew, Z texts me that he’s leaving the clubhouse. “Girls are on their way.”
Rock pulls out his own phone. “They’ll be here in ten.” He glances at Heidi. “If you see Swan, have her meet them over at the stone building.”
“I will.”
Murphy takes Alexa from her. “Go. I got her.”
After she leaves, I bounce up and down on my toes a few times. Adrenaline’s roaring through me, and I can’t settle down.
“Nervous?” Murphy asks.
“Not exactly.”
Alexa baby-babbles at us and tries to grab everything in her reach. Since Murphy’s holding her, she mostly pulls on his beard.
I slap his arm. “Think she’d freak out if you shaved it off?”
“Probably.” He turns and makes noises back at Alexa. This right here is why I don’t want him underground fighting. That’s a discussion we’re not done having.
“If you were just a lil’ bigger, you could’ve been a flower girl,” Murphy tells her.
“Job’s still open if you want it,” I say to Murphy.
He throws me a fuck-off stare. “Where the fuck is everyone?” he asks.
Alexa squeals, then yells out something that sounds an awful lot like fuuu.
I can’t even pretend to hold in my laughter. “Oh, man. Heidi’s gonna kill you.”
Z takes the roads to the park at a much slower speed than he’s probably ever driven before.
“Best man has your husband waitin’ for you. You ready?” he asks, flashing a dimpled smile my way.
“You’re not upset, are you?” I ask. “We thought it was easier to have two witnesses, rather than do the big bridal party thing.”
“No, Trin. I totally get it.” He’s quiet, watching the road for a few minutes before speaking up. “It’s good you and Hope are so close.”
Hearing her name, Hope pops up between our seats. “Hurry up, Z, we’re going to be late.”
“Look who’s lecturing me about being on time,” he jokes. “Put your seatbelt on. Your man will kill me if you arrive with a single hair out of place.”
I close my eyes and enjoy the sound of them bantering back and forth for the rest of the trip.
“Trin, wake up. We’re here,” Hope says a few minutes later.
“I’m not asleep.”
Z opens my door and offers me his hand. “Were you planning your escape?” he asks.
“No. I was having too much fun listening to you two bicker like children.”
“We were not,” Hope protests as she jumps down from the truck. “Where is everyone?”
“Out front. You told me to park behind the building,” Z explains.
Hope glances around. “Right.” She leans inside the truck and drags out our bags and assorted other stuff. “Swan and Krystal should be waiting inside for us, and I have a smaller bag for last minute touch-ups.”
“Hey, baby doll,” Rock says, sneaking up behind Hope. She squeals and turns to kiss him, almost dropping my train case.
“Hey, matron of honor.” I snap my fingers a few times to get her attention. “Makeup now. Make-out later,” I tease.
“Yes, ma’am.” She wipes a trace of lipstick off Rock’s mouth and steps away. “We won’t be long.”
Rock runs his gaze over me, then pulls me in for a hug. “You ready for this?”
“Not yet,” I say, gesturing to my leggings and sweatshirt. In the interest of not getting my dress wrinkled, or ripped, or dirty, or any of the ten million horrific scenarios I came up with, I’m finishing my wedding prep at the park.
“You still look beautiful, Trinny.”
My throat closes up and tears prick my ey
es. “Thank you. Where’s Wyatt? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. Even better once he heard you were on your way.”
Z taps Rock’s arm. “I’ll head over and let him know the girls are here.” He tugs on my hand. “How long do you think you’ll be?”
My gaze strays to Hope who shrugs.
Z shakes his head. “Someone text me when you’re ready.” He leans over and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for finally making that big bastard happy. He’s damn lucky to have you.” Z doesn’t do serious often, so when he does, you know he means it.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
Hope grabs my hand and drags me to the small stone building where Swan, Dex, and Heidi are waiting outside.
“Oh, Trinity, are you excited!” Heidi gushes, rushing forward to give me a hug.
The four of us stand there chattering about nonsense—makeup, hair, dresses, the weather—before Rock finally interrupts us. “Let’s not make him wait any longer, please.”
Inside there’s a full-length mirror and Swan pushes me in front of it. “Hope, is there any way to get more light in here?” she asks.
Hope and Heidi open the windows they’re able to reach, giving us more natural lighting to work with. Swan’s quick and efficient. “You don’t need much,” she murmurs as she dabs concealer under my eyes.
“Please, I need that whole tube. I didn’t sleep at all.”
She tsks at me. “Not supposed to have nookie before the wedding.”
I’m guessing no one informed Swan about what went down yesterday, so I force a smile on my face and pretend sex is the reason I’m so tired.
“Do you need anything else?” Heidi asks. “Murphy has Alexa—”
“Go ahead, honey. We’re okay,” Hope assures her.
Krystal rushes in and squeals when she sees me. “Hi, bride. Excited?”
“Yes.”
Since I’m busy with makeup, Krystal turns Hope’s way. “What are we doing with your hair?”
Hope hesitates. “I was going to wear it down.”
“Hmm.” Krystal tilts her head, eyeing Hope’s purple fit-and-flare pin-up dress. “Can I do some Victory Rolls?”
White Knuckles Page 22
