Loner (The Nomad Series Book 4)

by Janine Infante Bosco

  A whimper escapes her lips and I watch as she raises her hand to cover her mouth. The tears fall fast and hard down her cheeks and all I want to do is take her in my arms. I want to promise her more and give her everything.

  “It didn’t matter we were young, we were real,” I say hoarsely. “We were fucking spectacular, and that’s the only truth worth knowing. That’s why Sin told you all those lies. I asked him to make you hate me because I thought if you stopped loving me then you’d finally be free.”

  “It wasn’t up to you to decide,” she affirms. “I’m a strong girl, I make my own decisions. I never played the damsel in distress because I never needed someone to save me. If this life has taught me anything, it’s taught me how to survive. When you first came to North Carolina, I told you to live.”

  “And, you taught me how to live.”

  She nods.

  “Life is short for everyone, Linc,” she rasps. “All we can do is make the most out of every moment and find that sliver of happiness that makes it all worth it. You were my sliver of happiness and now, you’re the tragic chord.”

  She wipes her face one last time before drawing in a deep breath and turning for the door.

  “My life is a mess,” I blurt.

  Like my mother looked for a feeble attempt to keep me with her, I do the same with Kelly. It works for me and her hand freezes on the door knob.

  “The danger surrounding me now doesn’t compare to any I’ve known before. In the next couple of weeks, I will sign my soul over to the Devil himself.”

  Turning to face me, she swallows.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Right or wrong, I still love you,” I say, keeping my eyes steadily on hers. “I just want you to know that.”

  “We’re always going to be broken and lonely, aren’t we?” she whispers.

  I want to tell her no that one day we’ll get it right. I’ll step up and be the man she needs. The funny thing about that is, all she needs is a man that loves unconditionally and that’s all I’ve ever been.

  “I hope not,” I reply honestly.

  Because a man who can’t dream can still hope.

  And he can love.

  He can love her with all he’s got even if she’s not his to love anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  As Stryker pulls into Pipe’s garage, my eyes focus on the bikes lining the front of the building. All shiny and new, they’re fucking beautiful. The sight of them alone makes me wish to feel the power between my legs and the wind at my back.

  You’re almost there.

  What seemed impossible three weeks ago, is starting to look more feasible with every passing week. Physical therapy is a slow process and most days I want to throw in the towel but, I push through. Every session is more grueling than the last and I leave full of aches and pains. I’m still in the chair mostly but now I can balance most of my weight on my good leg. I compensate by using a walker and that allows me to place half my weight on my bad leg. My days of needing someone to help me get to and from my chair or my bed are over.

  If I keep at this pace and continue with the swim therapy too, my therapist says I should be walking with a cane in three to four weeks. I’m hoping it won’t be long after until I can straddle my new wheels. Most of our bikes were blown to bits after the bomb and Jack purchased a fleet of Harleys for everyone including me. Mine has been parked here at the garage since the day they left the dealership, waiting for me to break her in and I’m counting down the days until I can take her for a ride.

  Turning the car off, Stryker turns to me.

  “This is your first time at church since everything, ain’t it?” he questions as I keep my eyes trained out the window.

  “Yeah, guess I’m not exempt anymore,” I reply, turning to him. “Either that or Rocco’s ready to make our move.”

  I was at therapy when Jack called Stryker and told him we all needed to meet at the garage for church in an hour. Normally, if I’m at therapy and the club needs to meet, me and whoever is my chaperone that day get a pass. Of course, we’re always brought up to speed later that day but today Jack told Stryker I needed to be present. Therapy was cut short and now here we are.

  As eager as I am to get back into the swing of things, I’m dreading this meeting. I think everyone is in a way. The closer we get to Yankovich, the sooner our stand-off with the bastard will be and I’m not sure any of us are confident we’re going to survive. Three weeks ago, I didn’t give a fuck if I died. Hell, I was conjuring ways to take my own life. I offered to be the sacrificial lamb in all this bullshit if that don’t tell you I was at the end of my rope, nothing will.

  Things changed. I don’t want to die no more. Make no mistake about it, if it comes down to it, I am prepared to lay it all down for my club. That oath I took still holds merit but, I’m kind of hoping we win this thing and not for the obvious reasons.

  I want to make things right between me and Kelly. I want to erase all those doubts Sin planted in her head and make her fall back in love with me. I want to cause trouble and wreak havoc with her. I want to love her. I want to work at checking off everything listed on her five-year plan. but, I won’t fucking open that can of worms until Yankovich is put down like the animal he is.

  After I told the truth, things continued to be strained between us. While she didn’t go out of her way to avoid me, she simply kept to herself. There was no animosity, there was nothing. It was as if everything I said went in one ear and out the other. To my surprise, Wolf didn’t get involved either.

  I know he heard everything we said to one another but, he didn’t call me out on it. Whether he said anything to Kelly, I don’t know. He’s still acting shady as all hell and the secret of Cain still hangs over us. More than anything, I want everything to go back to normal. The problem with that is, I’m not really sure what normal is anymore.

  “I guess we can’t hide out in here forever,” Stryker mutters, still gripping the steering wheel.

  “You ever regret it?” I ask.

  “The club?”

  I nod.

  “I don’t know if regret is the right word,” he admits. “I just don’t know what it is we’re doing anymore. I look at Jack, Wolf, and Blackie—even Riggs and they still got love for this club. How can they love something that brings so much chaos into their lives? I think we missed the good years of this place. A time when being a Knight was a respectable thing to be. When you were a criminal but also a local hero. They’re still hanging onto the memory of what it was and not accepting what it’s become.”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  “Let me go get the chair or do you want to give the walker a shot?”

  Turning my attention out the window, I span the distance between the car and the garage and debate if I’ll make it. That’s when I spot her. Her blonde hair is pushed off her face and piled high on top of her head. Wearing a pair of jeans and a Satan’s Knights hooded sweatshirt, she rolls a tire across the pavement.

  “Linc?” Stryker calls, interrupting my trance.

  “Get the chair,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on her. As Stryker rounds the back of the truck and retrieves my chair, I watch Kelly twist the lug nuts off the busted tire she’s looking to swap with the new one she rolled across the lot. Opening my door, I struggle to get out of the truck and the moment my feet touch down on the ground, a sharp pain shoots up my bad leg. Grinding my teeth, I bend my knee and transfer most my weight onto the good leg. Hoping toward the chair, I grab the arms and lower myself.

  “Go in, I’ll be right there,” I tell Stryker, not bothering to look at him. Ditching him without explanation, I roll myself toward Kelly. I don’t know if she hears me coming or if she simply feels me drawing near, the same way I seem to always feel her. Crouching next to the tire, she glances over her shoulder at me.

  “Hey,” she says. Placing the wrench on the ground she wipes her greasy hands over her thighs and stands.

  “You’re working here?
” I question, pushing the brake on the chair.

  Spinning around, she shrugs her shoulders and meets my gaze.

  “Turns out dogs hate me,” she replies.

  Cocking my head to the side, I offer her my smile.

  “I don’t know if I believe that,” I tease, tearing my eyes away from her, scanning the inside of the garage, my gaze meets Wolf’s before he looks at Kelly. Shaking his head, he turns his attention to the door as the club files in.

  “So, does this mean you’ve decided to stay?” I question, drawing my eyes back to Kelly. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she crosses her arms against her chest.

  “For now,” she replies with a nod. “Linc—”

  “I’ve gotta go,” I interrupt, jutting my thumb over my shoulder to where the guys are crowding around the table. I’m not in the mood to hear all the reasons we should stay away from one another or have her tell me why she’s only planning on sticking around temporarily. I want to keep thinking a small part of her can’t let me go. That maybe she is even wondering if we can make things right between us.

  “Right,” she says, dropping her hands to her sides.

  “I’ll see you at home,” I add, reaching for my wheels. “And, you can explain why you didn’t come to me for the job.”

  Knowing she’d rather ask Wolf than me after I’m the one who suggested it, burns my ass. It also makes me realize gaining Kelly’s trust isn’t going to be easy. I’ve tainted us and sliding back into old habits ain’t going to be as easy as I figured it would. Those walls around her have been reinforced, and it’s going to take a fucking bulldozer to smash them down.

  “I think you know the answer to that,” she whispers. “Besides, I haven’t seen you much.”

  “You know where I am, Kelly,” I argue. “Just like my door was always open then, it’s open now and I’ve been laying in that bed every night, staring at the door wishing it will open and you’ll come to me.”

  “What do you want from me, Linc?”

  Everything.

  “For starters, you can acknowledge the truth I gave you.”

  “And, after that? What happens then?”

  Fuck if I know.

  “Linc!” Blackie shouts, causing me to glance over my shoulder again.

  “Shit,” I hiss. It’s hard not to wonder if I’ll always feel torn between her and the club. There’s always one thing standing in the way and it’s always fucking Satan. “I’ve gotta go,” I say, meeting her gaze. “We’re not done, Kelly.”

  Sighing, she tilts her head to the side and juts her chin toward the group of men shooting daggers at my back.

  “You better go,” she says softly. “The guy with the long hair looks like he’s going to kill you.”

  Fucking Blackie.

  I let myself stare at her for another moment, taking in the smudge of grease just beneath her eye, before turning my chair and rolling deeper into the garage, toward Jack’s beloved table.

  The same table my father built with his own two hands.

  Stryker, Deuce, and Cobra spent days searching for it after the bomb. When they pulled it from the ruins, the legs were mangled and the edges of it were splintered. But, the hand-carved reaper remained intact. As per Blackie’s orders, they sanded it down and nailed it to four new legs. If you ask me it’s a little ironic that both my father’s table and his son needed their legs repaired but, that’s probably me just reaching for a connection to Cain.

  Something I’m going to have to stop doing if I ever want to make things right between me and Kelly. Something, I’m going to have to make peace with if I ever want to move on with my life period.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Wolf grunts as I roll my wheels to the open spot waiting for me around the table. Ignoring his dig, I glance around, taking in all the faces. My eyes linger on Deuce and the sling around his arm.

  “How’s the shoulder, man?” I ask, pointing to where he was shot.

  “It’s healing or at least that’s what my hot nurse says,” he replies, elbowing Cobra with his good arm. “I think Wolf will agree, Celeste is mighty fine,” he taunts, wiggling his eyebrows

  “Bad enough I gotta swallow you being the guy my sister loves. Now you want to take a shot at my woman?”

  “Dude, I fucking saved your life. I took a bullet for you,” Deuce points out. “If that ain’t love, I don’t know what it is. I’m just busting your balls. Hot nurse or not, I only got eyes for one girl.”

  “Wonderful,” Jack hisses, lifting a silver meat mallet in his hand. “Now, that we’ve established your dick is a one-woman rodeo can we get down to business?” he questions, bringing the mallet down to the wood.

  “What’s with the meat mallet?” I ask, glancing around the table.

  “It was our present to Blackie but we’re letting Jack use it for the time being,” Deuce supplies, pointing to Blackie. “I got you, man,” he tells him.

  “Is he on medication?” Blackie asks Cobra.

  “I’m not sure what he’s on,” Cobra mutters, turning his attention back to me. “We couldn’t find the gavel and none of us are tight enough with a judge to go borrow one,” he points to the mallet. “It does the job.”

  “And we had a twenty percent off coupon at Bed, Bath and Beyond,” Stryker adds.

  “It’s nice to see everyone in such great spirits,” Jack mutters, swiping a hand down his worn face.

  “I fucking love it,” Riggs chimes in. “If you can’t beat them join ‘em,” he says, stretching his arms behind his head. “Makes me want to take a picture and send it to Yankovich.”

  “Except we still don’t know where the fuck he is,” Blackie reminds us.

  Wolf turns his eyes to Riggs.

  “You can hack into the fucking DMV but you can’t find anything in cyberspace on this dickhead?”

  “Actually,” Bas interjects, bracing his elbows on top of the table. His long blond hair is tied back in a ponytail and his blue eyes land on Jack. “Me and Needles have a few leads we want to check out with your permission,” he adds.

  “Way to make a guy look bad,” Riggs grunts, dropping his arms to his sides.

  “What do you mean you have a few leads? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about it?” Jack hisses.

  “Well, with all due respect,” Needles starts, stroking a finger down the length of his neatly trimmed beard. “You’ve been otherwise occupied with the situation regarding Blackie’s late wife and this information sort of just dropped into our lap.”

  “Rush’s old lady called me two days ago,” Bas supplies. “Clearing out the house she shared with Rush, she came across some papers.”

  As the story unfolds, I find myself torn in which direction I should look. At the mention of Blackie’s late wife, our vice president withdraws. He threads his fingers through his overgrown hair and his eyes fade. Then my eyes dart to Deuce as he slams his fist against the table at the mention of Rush.

  “Go on,” Jack demands.

  Reaching into his cut, Bas produces an envelope. Dropping it onto the table he pushes it into the middle. Wolf grabs it first and starts pulling out the contents as Bas and Needles take turns revealing what he’s looking at.

  “There were several discarded pieces of paper. Some have phone numbers scribbled on them, others have addresses. But, if you look at the letterhead on one of them it’s written in Russian,” Needles says.

  “We looked into it briefly and the letterhead belongs to an abandoned warehouse in Purchase, New York,” Bas informs.

  “How do you know it’s abandoned?” Riggs questions.

  “Well, judging by the photos on Google Earth, a rodent couldn’t survive in there,” Needles answers.

  “What about these phone numbers?” Wolf asks, pushing the papers across the table to Riggs.

  “They’re old and out of service. There are also three other addresses on there we didn’t get a chance to look into,” Bas says.

  Flipping through the papers, Riggs studies them before lifting
his eyes to Jack.

  “All these addresses have the same zip code as the letterhead.”

  “The deed to the warehouse is in Yankovich’s brother’s name,” Needles adds.

  “It might be worth checking out,” Bas suggests. “While we wait on Rocco.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to be waiting much longer,” Jack says, pointing toward the lot. All eyes follow his gaze and watch as the black Maserati stops in front of the garage.

  “Did you know he was coming?” Blackie questions.

  “He called this morning,” Jack replies. “That’s why we’re all here,” he informs, turning his attention back to Bas. He points a finger between him and Needles before continuing. “Let’s see what Spinelli has to say but, it might be beneficial to dig further,” he says, before casting his dark eyes on Riggs. “Is there anything you can do with these numbers?”

  “I can find out who they were registered to,” he says confidently.

  The sound of the doors closing causes me to turn my head and I watch Rocco start toward us. Surrounding him are his two usual minions and behind him Anthony Bianci trails. Beside him walks a man dressed as sharply as Victor Pastore once dressed.

  “Gentleman,” Rocco greets, undoing the top button of his collared shirt. The man looks uncomfortable dressed in a suit whereas his uncle looked as if he was born to wear them. It makes me wonder how truly comfortable he is standing in Vic’s shoes.