“What happened today?”
He sighed. “Hav’s father shot Isaac.”
“What?” She tried to sit up, but he held her down. “Oh my God! But you said he was okay!”
“I said he’d be okay—and he will be. He already is, mostly. He took a bullet through his arm. Hit an artery, but Tasha sewed him up and got some blood in him, and he’s home resting. He’ll be okay.”
Thinking about the weird scene between Cory and Havoc’s mother, Adrienne couldn’t hold back her curiosity. “What’s going on, Badge? Everything is so different in town. And with everybody. With you. What happened?”
He was quiet for so long that Adrienne had decided he wasn’t going to answer at all and was trying to figure out what to do about that. But eventually, he did speak, his voice low, sounding louder against her ear than in the room. “We’re in some pretty deep trouble. I can’t talk much about it, but we’re tangled up with some bad people. They killed Hav.” He rubbed his chest. “They did this to me. Took Len’s eye. And tore up Show’s back and legs. Other stuff, too.” He took a deep breath; Adrienne could feel the scar tissue tightening as his chest rose. When he let the breath out, it shook.
“They killed some young guys in town, too. Club hangarounds. And Sophie—Hav’s sister. Her, first. People are mad. At us. Hav’s dad is sort of leading the charge, I guess. I guess he won’t have anything to do with Cory or her kids now. Or let Hav’s mom have anything to do with them, either. He said some shitty things about Hav standing right in front of his coffin. It sucked so bad.” He paused for a breath. “The shit he said in front of Cory. At Hav’s funeral. If any of us had been carrying in that church, I don’t think he’d have been around to shoot Isaac today.”
“God, Badge. I had no idea.” She knew he carried a gun most days. It was hard to be as close to someone as she was to him and miss something like that. But even so, knowing Badger like she did, the idea that he was dangerous, that he could actually kill somebody, just did not compute. So far out of the realm of her understanding was it, that she realized she looked on his gun as hardly more than a prop. She had totally divorced herself from its reality.
From, now, her reality.
“I know. I don’t want you to know about that stuff. You’re too good to know about that stuff.”
She pushed up from his chest and sat up, turning to face him. “Badger. I think I need to know. Don’t I? If people are going to be shooting people around me? If you could get hurt again—or worse?” As she spoke, a thought popped up. “What did you do to Hav’s dad?”
Badger sat up, too. “Show had a serious talk with him and then took him and his wife home. That’s it.”
She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until she relaxed. Now she felt lightheaded. But Badger leaned forward and picked up her hand. “If Isaac had died, though, we would have killed him. We have killed people who hurt us bad enough. And we hurt people who cross us. The club has been the law in Signal Bend since longer than I’ve been breathing. That’s the way things are. If you’re not okay with that, I understand. But you need to let me know. If we go any further, you have to know what it means and be okay with it. Cory’s a widow because of club business. She’s got a son who’ll never know his dad, and another one who’s fucked up bad over losing him. We get hurt. Ours get hurt. I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, but what I do and who I am is deadly. Can you live with that? With me?”
Badger—sweet, kind Badger—deadly? That was crazy. She couldn’t think. All of the things she’d heard, all of the things her father had told her—the printouts from the internet he’d shoved in her face—none of that had made an impression, because she knew this town, these people. She loved Shannon, and Show, and Badger. She had friends here. Family, even. And none of what Badger was describing had been part of her experience.
Could she live with that? Could she really? Or was her father right, after all?
She didn’t know. So, with a brittle knot in her throat, she said so. “I don’t know, Badge. It’s so much so fast. I have to think.”
He dropped his head but didn’t let go of her hand. “Okay. I understand.” When he looked up, his eyes were sad and weary. “Do you want me to go, sleep someplace else tonight?”
“No. No. Please stay. Please stay.” She crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his hair. “Please stay.”
With a nod, he rolled and laid them both in the soft safety of their little nest.
~oOo~
That night, for the first time in weeks, Badger woke from his nightmare, sweaty and shouting.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Badger was awake early the next morning. He’d slept like shit; he hadn’t had a nightmare in a while, but last night’s was a doozie—not only vivid but ensnaring, the kind of nightmare that held on even after he’d realized he was dreaming, adding the panic of not being able to wake to the pain and panic of what was happening in the dream.
Adrienne had been there for him when he’d finally pulled out of it, the way she always was there for him. The way he needed her.
Now, she was sleeping quietly, curled on her side, facing away. Her hair was spread out on the pillow like a fiery halo. Morning light beamed softly from the window over her shoulder, making the dust of freckles there seem to glow. She was the most perfect, the most precious part of his life. She was his light.
He leaned on his elbow and watched her sleep, rubbing his chest absently. He hurt more this morning than he had in days, maybe weeks, as if the pain of the nightmare had seeped into reality and caught hold. The buzz at the base of his skull was loud and insistent this morning, too. He wanted to wake her, take her again, but he knew he’d been rougher last night than he wanted to be, so he left her alone now. He watched her rest, and he contended with his need.
She had to be okay with who he really was. She had to be. He shouldn’t have waited so long to be straight with her about it, because it was too late for him to lose her now. But he’d had a small, sad hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to tell her so much, that he could keep her innocent of the club. That she could be left to believe he was good. To believe that he wasn’t as ruined on the inside as he was on the outside.
That had been a dream, too. Reality had no room for dreams like that. In Badger’s world, reality had much more room for nightmares.
~oOo~
She was still sleeping, and he was still lying next to her, fighting his demons, when his burner went off. He grabbed it before it woke her and stood as he opened it, walking into her bedroom—which almost never got any use except as a closet—to answer. It was Show, and Badger’s stomach clenched a little as he put the phone to his ear.
“Yeah.”
“We’re meeting in half an hour. At Isaac and Lilli’s—Tash doesn’t want him riding yet.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Okay…brother.” The call ended.
It was the first time Show had called him ‘brother’ since the night he’d taken the beating at Tuck’s.
Jerri Rae had backed off of Badger being her baby daddy right away, after Billy and his buddies got their lesson and then Isaac sat her down for a talk. She didn’t make the mistake of trying to name any other Horde. As it turned out, she had no idea who was really the father. She’d been sleeping around outside the Horde, which was out of bounds for club girls. They could fuck whomever they wanted to fuck, but they couldn’t do that and also fuck the Horde. They wanted to make sure the girls didn’t bring anything into the clubhouse with them and give it to the men.
She’d named Badge because she thought he was a nice enough guy to step up whether it was true or not. In other words, she’d thought he was a patsy. She’d been wrong. Maybe at one time, she would have been right, but not anymore.
A little dazed, the sound of Show’s voice speaking the word ‘brother’ still in his ear, Badger went back to the living room. Adrienne was sitting up, the blankets pooled around her waist, leav
ing her beautiful little breasts bare for his eyes.
“Do you have to go?”
He came and sat next to her. He had a few minutes. “Yeah, I do. I don’t know what’s up, so I’m not sure how long I’ll be. I’ll try to let you know.” He searched her eyes. “Should I let you know? Should I come back?” He’d only laid everything on her a few hours ago, but he didn’t know if he could wait longer to know.
When she put her hand on his face, threading her fingers into his beard, he could have wept, but whether for sorrow or gladness he didn’t know.
“I’m not leaving you, Badge. I have to think and figure out what my place is here. I don’t understand this life. But I’m not leaving. I love you. I just need to figure out how to live. But I already needed to figure that out.”
Caught in a sudden deluge of relief, he pulled her close and held her hard. His face buried in her fragrant hair, he murmured, “I try to figure that out every day. Maybe we can help each other.”
“Yeah.” She pushed him back and gave him a stern look. “But don’t treat me like a little girl. I need to know things. I need to understand. I’m pretty smart. And I’m pretty brave, I think.”
“You are. You’re smart and brave and beautiful. I don’t deserve to be this lucky.”
~oOo~
The Horde sat around Isaac and Lilli’s dining room table, arranged in their customary order. The table was a huge, ancient thing, made out of a heavy wood so dark it was almost black. Sitting at the head, Isaac looked tired but otherwise well. His bandaged arm was supported against his chest by a sling.
“I hear I missed a visitor yesterday. Got a drop-by from the Sheriff after I left? First time law has been in Signal Bend since the last time I got shot. Maybe they’re just extra fond of me.”
Show nodded. “But last time, that was literally true. Last time it was Tyler, who really was worried about you. Yesterday, Seaver made a big production out of coming up on our booth. It was about catching us up. Pissing on our tree. This is the next step up from him following us on our way in from the run. And somebody called him in. First time anybody’s called in law for a town issue in, fuck, I don’t know how long.”
Emboldened by the way he’d been heeded yesterday, and Show’s call this morning, Badger picked up the thread. “Somebody called, yeah. Has to be. It could have been an out-of-towner, though. But something interesting happened. Seaver made his entrance, and he snooped all over the booth, but nobody talked to him. I mean nobody. Not even out-of-towners. I don’t know if it was the way he was swinging his dick around or what, but I didn’t see anybody take time with him to point one damn finger. They had our back. Even strangers.”
Isaac scanned the table. Badger followed his eyes and saw his brothers agreeing with him.
“I’d say we have Badge to thank for it,” Show’s voice was even quieter than usual, but it carried. “People saw us handle Don’s crazy with reason. Maybe that warmed people toward us some. Or at least had people pulling in against the outside. And reason wouldn’t’ve been my call. Not yesterday. He shot Isaac. He fired a weapon in the middle of a crowd. Around our women and children. I’d’ve put my fist through Don Mariano’s skull. Right there in front of the whole fuckin’ town.” Suddenly, his glower relaxed, and his lips turned up in a smirk. “If Lilli would’ve given me the chance.”
They all grinned. It wasn’t funny, talking about who would have killed the man who’d tried to kill Isaac, and yet it was, a little, the image of Lilli fighting Show for the kill. Lilli was not a chick to fuck with. Even now, when she spent her days raising her kids, running the town library, doing town council stuff, she was still a warrior. Maybe more than ever, since she didn’t wear it on her sleeve the way she once had.
Tommy whistled. “Ah, man…that spin thing she did? That was sweet.” He grinned at Isaac.
Who scowled back. “Enough talkin’ about my old lady. Let’s get back on track. Seaver’s into our turf now. He’s been in office almost a year and a half, and he’s been biding his time. Kept outside of town—not even a drive-through in all that time. He must think he’s close on something. Look sharp, brothers. I’d say the heat is on.”
Len put his elbows on the table. “And we got no idea what he’s cookin’.”
“No.” Isaac shook his head. “But we know where we’re vulnerable. The weed. And the clinic.”
“I swear to fucking God, if Tasha gets pulled into our bullshit with Seaver, I will rip that motherfucker’s throat out. We’ve done her enough hurt.” Len sat back so hard that his chair rocked up onto two legs. “She has the black market shit for us.”
“Protecting her is our first priority, Len. You and I are meeting with Bruce this afternoon”—Bruce was their contact for medical supplies in Springfield—“We’re hitting pause on supply orders until we get a better read on what the Sheriff has going.” Isaac turned to Dom. “Anything new, brother?”
“Not yet. Same old stuff, just more of it. But I was talking to Bart, and he made me think of something.”
Dom hesitated, and even though no one moved, Badger had the sense that they’d all mentally leaned in. When Dom didn’t start up again, Isaac slammed his fist on the table, and Dom jumped. “Come on, Dom. What?”
“I…don’t know if it’s anything. But Bart and me…we talk in code, and we bounce the IP addresses, covering our tracks as much as we can. What if Seaver is talking in code to his buddy in Texas? The one he exchanges all the fucked-up jokes with? I mean, how many rape jokes and whatever before that shit gets old? And sometimes they barely make sense and aren’t funny even if you’re a deviant bastard.”
“And?”
“I don’t know yet, boss. I’m looking for patterns now, but this isn’t my thing.”
“It’s Lilli’s, though.” Lilli had been doing some kind of super-classified government work when she’d come to Signal Bend, and she spoke, like, a million languages. Isaac scanned the table. “Problems with bringing her in on this?”
“Chick ain’t got no business in our business. Don’t care who she is.” Zeke. Who’d never spoken at the table except to answer a question or voice a vote. Which Badger supposed he was doing now. “Sorry, boss. But that’s true.”
Isaac stared at Zeke for a long time. Usually, when he was pissed, Isaac’s brows drew in, and the effect was awe-inspiring, even in this group of rough men. But now, he stared without any expression at all, and Badger felt even more anxious—it was as if Isaac had transcended to an entirely new level of rage, one beyond human expression.
Zeke had not been a member of the Horde when C.J. had been. He could not know the animosity that had simmered between Isaac and Ceej over Lilli’s involvement in their fight with Ellis. He knew that Isaac had been paralyzed, but the Horde did not talk about that history. They did not talk about traitors, so they did not talk about C.J.’s treachery and murderous intent. Zeke could not know the dangerous territory on which he was stomping now. Tommy didn’t know, either. But Show, Len, Badger, and Dom—they’d all been there. As Prospects or full members, they had been there since Ellis. They knew what Lilli had risked and lost. They knew how she’d helped them. They knew what it had cost Isaac and Lilli both. And they knew how sore Isaac was on the subject.
He said one word. “Vote.”
Show picked up for him without missing a beat. “Aye brings Lilli in to help Dom with this code thing. Aye.”
Len: “Aye.”
Badger didn’t hesitate. As far as he was concerned, what Lilli did or did not carry between her legs didn’t matter half as much as what she carried between her ears and inside her chest. They needed her. “Aye.”
Dom: “Aye.”
Zeke didn’t hesitate, either. “Nay.”
Tommy’s head swiveled between Zeke and Isaac. Zeke had been his VP at their previous club, a recreational club in Illinois. But Isaac was his President now, and the Horde were anything but recreational. According to the club bylaws, if Zeke got one more vote on a matter first raised a
t the table, he could force it to be tabled for a week. It wouldn’t matter that a majority vote was already in place. Badger didn’t think the vote would change in a week, but they’d lose a week of work, and Isaac would likely need to be restrained before he ripped Zeke’s prodigious beard right off his face and strangled him with it. Even with one arm tied to his chest.
Isaac stared steadily at Tommy, waiting. All Horde eyes were on him. Tommy was a good member. He was strong and brave, and he did what was asked of him. He wasn’t what could be called bright, but that worked for him more times than not. Havoc hadn’t been much of a thinker, either. He’d been sharp in a lot of ways, but he’d almost always have chosen action over thought. He’d told Badger once, over shots at Tuck’s, that thinking was for later, when you needed an alibi.
Badger smiled at the memory.
Finally, with one more look at Zeke, Tommy said, “Aye.” And the table took a breath and then tensed again as Isaac’s fiery eyes turned back to Zeke.
“Brother, you got a problem with this vote, any problem at all, you can put that kutte on the table. When the table has spoken, the matter is fuckin’ closed. I will not wait for another malcontent to take me down. I swear that on my own patch.”
Zeke stared back for about ten full seconds—which was a very long time when a whole table was waiting on his answer to a challenge like that. Finally, the old man nodded. “I rode outlaw for a long time. Before your time. Not once did we ever ask a woman do anything but cook our food, suck our dicks, or spread her legs.”
Holy shit. Isaac sat suddenly forward, his one good hand curled into a fist so tight it shook. Badger held his breath. This was the world’s shittiest time for Zeke to find his tongue. Being the strong silent type was so much safer than saying something like that when they were talking about Lilli.
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