Stone: The Lost Boys MC #2

by Rylan, Savannah

  Nothing about my mother anywhere.

  Is it really that easy for him to erase her?

  I stood in the middle of my father’s office and closed my eyes. It grew hard to breathe. Hard to think straight. I swallowed deeply and went back to the file folder, taking pictures of the rest of the information. My father was head-deep in a conversation. He’d probably forgotten I was here. So, I took the liberty of at least making his unlocked office worth my time. After over one hundred pictures taken of the papers in the file folder on The Lost Boys, I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

  Why didn’t my father have anything of my mother’s in here?

  I looked around his office and on his desk. There were pictures of me. Of him and I. Pictures of his team and awards he’d won at work over the years. Pictures of his promotions and pictures of us in the park. But there was nothing of my mother.

  Nothing at all.

  “How could he just not have anything?” I murmured to myself.

  I put everything back where I found it to the best of my ability. Then, I slipped out of the room. I put the door back to the cracked state where I’d found it, then headed back to the kitchen. And as I walked back there, I took stock of the pictures on the walls. Pictures of my father and myself. Portraits we’d had done over the years to clock my birthdays and Christmases. I walked into the living room and took stock of the photos he had of coworkers. Bosses. More promotions and more awards. I’d never noticed it before, but there wasn’t a damn thing in this house that even remotely resembled the presence of my mother.

  And while I understood grief, I got the feeling that it was much more than that.

  “What are you not telling me, Dad?” I asked softly.

  I shook my head as I made my way back to the kitchen. But as I crossed by the patio door, I heard my father talking outside. I heard his voice rumbling lowly. Intentionally talking lower than he needed to. And because my curiosity had already peaked to dangerously high proportions, I stood there and pressed my ear to the curtained window.

  “Confirmed, yes. The set up is tonight. Be ready to go at eight. We’ll have them right where we want them by nine fifteen.”

  I didn’t know much, but I knew my father was talking about setting up Stone’s crew. He was setting up the club tonight for something, and in the pit of my gut I wanted to tell Stone. I wanted to make sure they were safe. Sound. Secure. I didn’t know why. I shouldn't have cared. After all, they were just a bunch of gun-running, money-stealing, roughhousing men.

  Yet, the feeling didn’t go away.

  I saw my father get up from his chair and I dashed back down the hallway. I slipped into the bathroom, locking the door and turning the fan on. I needed to buy myself some time to piece all this together. I needed to figure out what the fuck I was missing. My mind wasn’t putting everything together because it kept shooting off into twenty thousand different places.

  “Hayley?” my father called out.

  “Pooping!” I exclaimed.

  “Ah, right. Well, I gotta get a shower! Make yourself at home!”

  “Thanks, Daddy!”

  Great. Even more time.

  I sat down on the toilet seat and listened as my father walked by. His shadow appeared underneath the doorway and he stopped, which made my heart stop in my chest. I held my breath. I made small grunting sounds, trying to sell what I was doing.

  Then, my father spoke through the door.

  “I just wanted to thank you for coming over,” he said.

  I cleared my throat. “Kinda in the middle of something, Dad.”

  “Yeah, sorry. Just… you coming over means a lot, princess. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, Daddy.”

  I heard him grunt before he walked away. His shadow moved and I released the breath I was holding, listening as he made his way down the hallway. A few minutes later, I flushed the toilet. Just as I heard the shower turn on. I made my getaway back to my car in that moment, trying to slip out of my father’s house and get back to my own apartment.

  I had a work shift I had to get ready for, plus I had a phone call to make.

  I raced back to my apartment and ran up the steps to the third floor. I panted as I burst through my apartment door, kicking the small boxes I had yet to unpack out of my way. Fucking hell, I really needed to get the last of my place unloaded. But that was the furthest thing from my mind. I sat down on my couch and pulled up the pictures I’d taken of those documents, reading through them as best as I could.

  And when I came across the piece to the puzzle I was missing, my jaw dropped open.

  “I have to call Stone,” I murmured.

  I flipped over to my contacts and pulled up his number. The number I’d pulled from my caller I.D. at work when he called me at my office that night. I dialed it as my eyes fell onto my clock. It was a little past noon, and for some reason the damn man wasn’t picking up his phone.

  “This is Stone. Leave a message. Or don’t,” his voice message said.

  I snickered as the phone beeped, and I began rattling along.

  “Stone, it’s me. Hayley. Look, this is urgent. An absolute emergency. I need you to call me back as soon as you get this. Okay? Please. I’m begging you,” I said.

  Then, I hung up the phone and leaned back into the cushions.

  It was going to be a long ass work day.

  Twenty-One

  Stone

  My first alarm went off at five and I groaned. I felt like shit, but at least I’d slept. I threw the covers off me and laid there until my second alarm went off. And one by one, I heard other alarms going off in the lodge. I cleared my throat and laid there until my third alarm went off. Then, I finally managed to pull myself from bed. The fourth one went off before I was on my feet, and the fifth one finally prompted me to get my ass out of bed.

  “Coffee,” I murmured.

  I grabbed my phone without even looking at it. I shoved it into my pocket, running my fingers through my hair. I needed coffee. We all would. Coffee and a decent dinner that got our brains into gear. I heard someone padding down the hallway. Probably Texas, heading to fix us all something. He was the cooker of the gang. I didn't know how to microwave myself fuckin’ macaroni and cheese, much less throw together a damn meal. I pulled myself from my room and shuffled down the hallway, finding Texas shirtless and standing at the stove.

  “That how you cook for Ella and my niece?” I grumbled.

  “You really want the answer to that?” he asked, chuckling.

  I rolled my eyes as I made my way over to the coffee pot. The only good thing I made was coffee. And cinnamon rolls. Because of my mother, I could make some damn good cinnamon rolls from scratch. I mindlessly went through the motions of making coffee while Texas fried up some bacon, and one by one the other two guys trickled into the kitchen.

  “Steak and eggs or hashbrowns and eggs?” Texas asked.

  “Steak,” we all murmured.

  “I don’t even know why I asked,” Texas said.

  “Me neither,” Notch said as he flopped down at the kitchen table.

  We all ate and stuffed ourselves with coffee, slowly coming back to life. The sun started to sink heavily over the treetops, and six o’clock quickly rolled around. I looked at Bronx and Notch before they nodded and got up, taking their dishes to the sink. I was always the one to clean things down. But tonight, that shit would have to wait.

  We had two hours to piece ourselves together and get this shit organized before we headed out.

  I went back into my room and shoved into the little bathroom attached to the damn thing. It barely held the shower I never used. But it was what it was. I splashed water in my face and brushed my teeth, slowly feeling the caffeine doing what it needed to do. I ran some water through my hair to make myself not look so mangy. Then, I slipped my boots and my jacket on before going and making one last pot of coffee.

  “One for the road, gentleman,” I said.

  We all raised our mugs of coff
ee and clinked them in the air. We were all ready to go, awake, and alert. I chugged it back black, shaking the last of the cobwebs from my mind. I focused myself on the task at hand, then ran down the plan one last time for the guys. I had them repeat their part back to me, making sure they understood what we needed to be doing where, and what time we needed to be doing it.

  Then, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  “The fuck is calling you?” Texas asked.

  I ignored the call, but the vibration quickly started up again.

  “What if it’s Cheng?” Notch asked.

  “That asshat wouldn’t risk calling me so—”

  The vibrating happened again, and this time it pissed me off.

  “Hold on,” I grumbled.

  I ripped my phone out of my pocket only to see that Hayley was calling. And she hadn’t just called two times. She had called multiple times. Dozens of times since lunchtime today. My eyebrows hiked up as I held up my finger to the guys. Then, I turned my back and walked into the corner.

  She ringed in with yet another phone call and I picked it up in a hurry.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Don’t go tonight,” Hayley said.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

  “I can’t really talk right now. What is it you need?” I asked.

  “This is important and I need you to listen. It’s almost six thirty, so you have to listen to me. We don’t have much time. Don’t go tonight,” she said.

  “I can’t do this right now. I have some things to do, then—”

  “Don’t go, Stone. Please,” she begged.

  “Whatever this is, it’s going to have to wait. I’m at work and—”

  “No, this has to happen now. Stone, you need to listen to me.”

  “No, you need to listen to me. We’ll talk about this later,” I said.

  “No, now.”

  “No, later.

  “My last name is Woolf!” she yelled.

  I paused. “What did you say?”

  “I don’t use my last name on my card because it hurts too much. Around here, when I tell them my last name, everyone says I look just like my mother. And it hurts. So, I use my middle name on all my stuff. My name is Hayley Woolf, and I’m Detective Woolf’s daughter. You know, Boulder.”

  There were so many things that ran through my head in that moment. Confusion. Frustration. Idiocy. Guilt. I felt the rug slip out from underneath me and the burn of my ego crashing to the ground was too much to bear. My skills really were slipping. My ability to read people really was swirling down the fuckin’ drain. But the one thing that overpowered all of that was my anger.

  It consumed me, from my nose to my toes.

  “How the fuck do you know any of this?” I growled.

  “We have to talk. I’m serious,” she said.

  “Where? And I’m not asking when, because you’re going to make it as soon as possible. Got it?”

  “Not a problem. I’m off work today. Meet me at my place. As quickly as you can get there. And please, leave the illegal guns wherever you are. I’d like to know you won’t shoot me on the spot before I can prove I’m still on your side.”

  “Illegal—”

  “My place, as soon as you can get here. The door will be unlocked,” she said.

  Then, she hung up the phone.

  I clenched my new phone in my hands, ready to throw it into the wall. It was a bad habit I needed to quit, but if there was ever a moment to break something, this was it. I shoved the damn thing back into my pocket and roared out into the room. I let all the pain and the misery and the anguish and the fear and the doubt roll up my throat in one massive, wall-shaking roar. Veins in my neck bulged. My vision dimmed in and out. I grew dizzy with the effort before I drew in a deep breath.

  And when I turned around to face the guys, all of them looked afraid.

  Of me.

  “You good?” Texas asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  “I have to go take care of something,” I said.

  “What? Now?” Notch asked.

  “I’ll be back soon. Within the hour, if possible,” I said.

  “Wait a second, you’re actually leaving when we’ve only got two hours to prepare ourselves? Not even?” Bronx asked.

  “I’ll be right back!” I exclaimed.

  I eyed each of them hotly before I reached for the door. I ripped it open and stormed out onto the porch, leaving them behind without even closing the damn thing behind me. I jumped off the porch and into the dirt, feeling it kick up around me in a cloud. And as I strode for my bike, only one thing rattled at the forefront of my mind.

  You’re the biggest fuckin’ idiot around.

  Twenty-Two

  Hayley

  I paced back and forth across the living room of my apartment. I’d gotten off the phone with Stone twenty minutes ago, and he still hadn’t showed up. Granted, I didn’t know where the hell in the city he was. For all I knew, it’d take him an hour to get to my place. I wrung my hands and raked my fingers through my hair. I downed water like it was my life’s purpose. I always got so dehydrated whenever I got nervous. And I was very nervous to confront Stone about all this. I knew it was for his own good. For the club’s good. But I heard the anger in his voice. I knew what would be going through his mind the second he got to my place.

  A heavy knock on my door pulled me from my trance, and I jumped.

  “Open this door, Hayley.”

  His voice growled. But not the pleasant kind of growl I had become addicted to. The hairs on the back of my neck stood as I paused in my living room. Was it smart to open the door? I mean, he sounded angry. I knew he’d be packing heat. Especially if my father’s file was correct in all the things his club did. It took me a second to move. To get to the door and rip it open.

  But when I did, Stone charged into my place.

  “What the—”

  “Was it a set up?” he asked.

  He whipped around, eyeing me heavily as I closed the door. My eyes danced along his body. I found his hands balled into fists at his side and his nostrils flaring. Anger permeated his face, wrinkling his brow and furrowing his eyebrows. He ground his teeth together. His temples pulsed. I stared into the eyes of heated lava. A man who had been devoured by whatever his mind had convinced him of along the way.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You heard me, Hayley. Cough it up. Was it a set up? Did your father make you sleep with me or something to get close to the club?” he asked.

  Out of all the things I expected, that wasn’t one of them.

  “Wow, you really don’t know me at all, do you?” I asked.

  “No, I obviously don’t. You’re the daughter of the man who infiltrated our ranks. Who’s hunting us down like animals! Now, answer my question.”

  “Not until you lower your voice in my apartment.”

  “I’ll speak to you however I damn well please.”

  I rushed in front of him, standing on my tiptoes and looking him square in the face.

  “Lower. Your fucking. Voice,” I said curtly.

  He puffed air through his nose as I settled back down onto my feet. I took a few steps away from him, trying to put some distance between us. I turned my back to him to give myself some time to gather my thoughts so I could answer his questions appropriately.

  “I don’t have a lot of time,” Stone said.

  I whipped back around, facing him. “My father didn’t dictate me to sleep with you. No one dictates what I do or don’t do with my body. Let’s get that straight right now.”

  His eyes connected with mine before he nodded.

  “And another thing, you don’t get to barge into my place because you’re pissed. Had I put this all together sooner, I would have come to you sooner. Because I don’t agree with the witch hunt my father has been conducting. I just didn’t know who he was hunting until this morning. And I gave you the courtesy of calling. Understand that.”

  He
gritted his teeth. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah. More like ‘thank you,’ would be appropriate. But I’m not looking for perfection. No, Stone. My father didn’t order me, like some whore, to sleep with you.”

  “That wasn’t what I—”

  “Shut up!” I exclaimed.

  He sighed, his shoulders finally relaxing and his fists unballing.

  “I had no idea about what my father was working on. He never talks about his work. But I know he’s been consumed by something lately. After going on an undercover operation for almost seven fucking months, I hadn’t seen or heard much from him. At all. He’s mentioned enough along the way for me to put together that whatever he encountered on that op he ran was fueling his work currently. And since you wouldn't give me any information about what you do or who you do it with, I decided to ask my father if he knew anything about The Lost Boys.”

  “You what?” he asked.

  “His response to me is what prompted me to start digging. To take a look in his office. I asked him who you guys were, if he knew anything about you. And all he told me to do was stay away before he placed a call to someone on his team. He slipped out onto the porch, I slipped into his office, and the damn file folder on all of you was just sitting on his desk.”

  “Did you look in it?” he asked.

  I nodded. “That’s when I knew I needed to call you.”

  I watched him disarm himself for a second before his eyes grew hard. His fists balled up again and all those walls went flying back up.

  “How the hell am I supposed to believe you?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Sounds like a personal problem. But if you need proof, I took pictures on my phone of the papers in the file folder my father has on you and your crew.”