by Debra Kayn
Heather pulled Bree across the room to talk to her privately. "Why?"
"Duke was shot," whispered Bree.
"No, I mean, why is she still scared? Was her husband killed at the bar the way Rod was attacked?" Heather turned at the sound of her dad walking in the room with Mel. "Is that what is going on here?"
Bree leaned close. "No. The trouble that scarred Raelyn happened when the Russian mob came after me at the clubhouse."
Heather's body stiffened. "The Russian—"
"Sweet? Heather? You two ready?" called her dad.
Heather covered her shock. She'd heard whispers before surrounding the president's wife but had never been told the facts.
She squeezed Bree's arm in understanding that heartache bonded the club and everyone involved dealt with their own fears separately. "Yeah, I'm ready."
Her dad pulled down his skullcap. "Bree?"
"Yes?" Bree stepped away from Heather and faced Heather's dad.
"Battery is on his way to pick you up." Her dad looked at Mel. "Stay with them."
"That's the plan." Mel sat on the bar stool closest to Raelyn.
Heather slipped her hoodie over her sleeveless shirt. The hem hit her below her shorts, and with the warm comfort, she yawned. By her second day serving beer at the bar, she'd learned customers gave her higher tips if she showed a little skin and she'd gone out and bought cutoffs and tops that scooped and buttoned. But at two o'clock in the morning when the bar closed, it was chilly outside, even during the summer.
Her dad led the way down the hall and stopped at the back door. LeWorth stood beyond the glass door ready to escort her to her car. Despite her dad offering to drive her and Gia in the Mercedes, she understood how much they both enjoyed the ride home on the motorcycle before going to sleep and had told them she'd drive herself.
"Follow us." Her dad opened the door. "LeWorth will follow you."
"Got it." She gazed straight ahead to avoid looking at the ground.
All the blood from Rod's attack had been cleaned up immediately. The horror of knowing what happened behind the bar never left.
She stepped away from Gia and unlocked her car door. Slipping inside her vehicle, she started the engine, and when everyone was ready, she followed her dad and Gia through town knowing that even though she was tired, she'd have a hard time sleeping.
The one consistency in her life since finding her dad, moving to Montana, and living a rural lifestyle in a small town versus living in Seattle where friends came and went was Rod. She twisted her grip on the steering wheel. She shared her dad with the club, her job with the club, and even Gia with the club.
Rod's company was all for her. His visit to the bar every night was the highlight of her day and reminded her that if her world fell apart, she'd achieved something on her own. Her friendship with Rod gave her strength when she fell asleep every night wondering if her dad would stop loving her or if she wasn't good enough.
During the day, she could fight the self-doubt that plagued her. Nights were a different story, and she often succumbed to her worries.
She never lacked for anything in her life, except knowing her father. Though she lost her mom when she was away at college, her mom gave her love, a house, and security. She'd had a step-dad until high school — who turned out to be her dad's older brother and a big reason why her dad stayed out of her life. She got good grades, had friends, took swimming at the YWCA.
It was the darkness that overwhelmed her. The time alone struck fear in her heart. She'd suffered too much loss in her life.
Her dad.
Her stepdad.
Her mom.
She turned on the blinker and slowed down to turn onto the back street at the edge of town and caught a figure at the corner sitting on a motorcycle. Her heart raced, and she careened her neck until the last possible second before she had to turn again and caught sight of the man's profile under the streetlight.
Rod.
She sped around the corner and pulled up to the curb in front of the duplex. Without waiting for her dad or LeWorth to escort her out of the car, she jumped out and ran to her dad.
"Damn, Heather." Her dad tucked her on the left side of him next to Gia. "Straight to the door. I want you near me or a Ronacks member at all times."
"Stop." She turned and pressed her hands on his chest, scrambling to keep her feet underneath her as her dad pushed her toward the duplex. "Rod. He's out there."
"LeWorth." Her dad stopped and grabbed Heather's bicep in his strong grasp. "Take Gia inside now."
Swept off her feet, Heather clung to her dad. "You've got to go get Rod."
"Ain't doing shit." Her dad burst through her door and set her on the couch.
She jumped to her feet. "He's alone. There was no one watching his back."
"Know that," muttered her dad, fisting his hands. "If you ever pull a dumb fucking stunt like that again, I'll—"
"Oh, my God." Heather thrust her hands in her hair and held her head. "You knew Rod was outside by himself?"
Her dad looked away from her. Heather turned around, disappointed and angered over his answer.
"It was Rod's decision. He's been going out by himself at night to draw out his attacker since I took him home," said her dad.
She shook her head, dropped her purse, and turned around. "And, you let him?"
"He has his reasons."
"Reasons?" Her voice burned her throat with accusations that had nothing to do with the club leaving Rod in a dangerous situation and everything to do with the first sign that her dad was more than happy to walk away from Rod. Walk away the same way he had when she was four years old. Walk away and disappoint her. Again.
"You good to stay here by yourself?" asked her dad.
She harrumphed. "Of course, I'm fine."
"Get some rest. Call if you need anything." He walked out of her duplex.
The click of the latch echoed in the room. She eyed the handle. Her dad had locked the door from the outside, proving he had a key to her place and didn't trust her enough to seek her own safety. She planted her hands on her hips and exhaled in confusion.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, bending over and picking up her purse.
She retrieved her cell phone and found Rod's phone number. He'd put it in her contact list one night at the bar and told her it was for emergencies. Being a dumbass out alone in the middle of the night, riding a motorcycle, after getting stabbed was an emergency.
Wide awake despite it being almost three o'clock in the morning, she put the phone to her ear and mentally begged Rod to answer the call.
"Heather?" answered Rod.
Her chest deflated, and she walked to the window. "What do you think you're doing?"
She pulled back the curtain and peeked outside, wishing she could see him from the duplex but he had parked at the end of the block out of her view.
"Are you okay?"
"Answer my question first," she said.
Rod hesitated. "I'm making sure nobody else in Haugan gets hurt. Now, answer me. Are you okay?"
"No," she blurted. "You're outside alone and barely back on your feet. What are you thinking being out at this hour?"
"Already told you."
"What you're telling me isn't a good enough answer, Rod." She let the curtain fall back in place. "Please, go home where it's safe."
"I'm fine."
"Rod...?" She closed her eyes. "I don't understand you."
"Not much to know," he said softly.
"The way you left..." She sighed. "I've missed you. You know, at the bar. I thought when you said you couldn't see me anymore, it meant you couldn't stay here, at the duplex, not that you couldn't see-see me."
"I've got things to do, and I want you safe," he said.
"I am safe."
"I want to make sure you stay that way, and right now I feel like that is making sure you're far away from me." His voice roughened. "Go to sleep. It's been a long day."
"Wait." She swallowed
, wanting to keep him talking. "Will you be at the club tomorrow night for the party?"
"Heather..." His voice dropped lower. "I can't."
"Why?" The skin over her spine tingled, and she rotated her shoulders. Seconds ticked by and her heart raced. "Rod?"
Silence.
"Rod?"
She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the screen. He'd disconnected the call. Tossing the phone to the couch, she walked woodenly into the bedroom and fell face first onto the unmade bed.
She couldn’t understand anyone in her life. Rod refused to talk to her about the attack. Her dad remained tightlipped about club business. And yet, everyone expected her to accept the armed escorts to and from work, and high security at home as if it was normal.
Nothing about the last two weeks had been normal.
Inhaling deeply into the pillow, she groaned and rolled to her back. Her bed still smelled of leather from Rod. Someday, she'd need to wash the sheets. Not right now. Probably not tomorrow. But, some day.
Chapter Twelve
Rod knew Heather would be at the club.
He knew he'd see her.
He knew that no matter how much he needed to stay away from her, he'd take his fill of her when he got the chance because he couldn't make himself stay away.
Besides, Battery called a meeting, and as V.P., he was required to attend. That's all Heather needed to know about his reasons for being here. He was selfish enough to take advantage of the situation to see her.
"I've got the usual people on alert to let us know what's heading our way." Battery thrummed the pool table with his thumb. "Bantorus Motorcycle Club and Moroad Club from the west of us, and the militia group, Treadmen, to the east of our territory. They've all agreed to keep their ears and eyes open, though Moroad has a bit of trouble right now. They're low on men on the outside since the Feds busted ten members, including their president. As of this morning, our territory and all surrounding territories have been cleared."
Swiss leaned his hip against the table. "Considering Rod was attacked inside our territory, the man must still be here."
Rod stood with his arms crossed. Lately, that was the most comfortable position he could find while his wound finished healing.
The others talked around him, planning, strategizing, throwing bullshit into the wind to help him. He preferred to figure out and deal with who tried to kill him on his own, but so far, he hadn't seen any sign of trouble.
He kept to his club and work. No outside friends. No fucking enemies. Everything in his private life revolved around strengthening Ronacks, keeping the territory safe, and protecting each member and the members' family. That's how he'd survive. How he'd already survived.
"In the meantime, Swiss and LeWorth are protecting the duplex. Mel's staying at the bar and providing round the clock security. JayJay's staying here to make sure the clubhouse is protected." Battery tapped the ledger on the table. "Rod brought the roster with him today. We still need to provide coverage to the businesses in Haugan. We can run a slim crew everywhere, but at Watson's Repo & Towing, where we need another brother to work with Swiss since Rod is indefinitely off rotation until we have better answers."
"I'm back working full days. I've changed my lunch break for one o'clock so I can take Gia and Heather to the bar. Choke has already agreed to come on board with me." Swiss looked at Rod. "I think we need to push for answers. You were attacked at the bar. Whoever is after you expects you there. You had a routine and need to stick to it. After seven o'clock, we can set a crew up to have Pine Bar and Grill covered. We can draw him out."
"Raelyn doesn't need that shit." Mel jaw ticked. "We've always made sure the bar stayed protected."
"There's been enough death surrounding Pine Bar and Grill," muttered Battery.
"I hear you. My woman will be there. My daughter will be there. Duke's son will be there." Swiss inhaled deeply. "But, I know our members. We could make sure they all stay safe."
"Backward, man," said Mel.
"It could work." Battery stroked his beard. "What's the head count for that time?"
Around the pool table hands went up. Rod counted them. Seven men, not counting him, Swiss, and Mel. Ten against one.
"I'd rather draw trouble out of town to my house," said Rod.
"It's better if we stay together." Battery tossed the ledger across the table. "Mel, you're in charge of making the necessary changes and putting the calls out."
To go up against his president, he'd need to bring it up to the members and have a vote. Rod gritted his teeth. He already knew the others would back Battery in their sworn pledge to protect their president. If it were any of his MC brothers and not him at the center of attention, he'd make the same decision.
He hated the fact that congregating at the bar in the evening put danger right in front of Heather.
Battery picked up the stack of papers in front of him. "Meeting's over."
The usual rowdiness and energy to get their drink on were missing tonight. Instead, everyone spread throughout the main room of the clubhouse. Rod stepped in front of Swiss and motioned his chin for him to stay behind a moment.
Swiss walked over to the edge of the room without question. Rod rubbed his ribs and widened his stance. There were some things about the situation he could control. Mel was taking over the roster until Rod's attacker was caught, but he still had authority over handing out jobs.
"If I'm going to be hanging around the bar, I might as well stay busy." Rod glanced around the room and spotted Heather, Gia, and Bree coming out of the hallway. His determination grew. "Why don't you have Heather stay home while I'm working the bar. I'll assign my share of the wages to her."
"I'd rather have my family close than split up across town where my protection is divided. I can only be in one place, brother." Swiss took out a cigarette and put it unlit in his mouth.
Swiss had a valid point. With Ronacks members around, the bar would be the safest place in Haugan.
"Yeah," Rod said. "I hear you."
Music started, and Swiss leaned forward. "Are you sticking around the clubhouse?"
"Not for long. I want to ride out."
"Watch your back, brother," said Swiss. "Ride with purpose."
"Always." Rod walked away, forcing himself to keep his shoulders back and to stretch the muscles in his stomach. The faster he recovered, the sooner he could end his troubles by himself.
Heather strode toward him from across the room. Her long legs determined, she reached him before he could make his escape.
"You're here." Heather dropped her gaze to his stomach. "How are you?"
"Good."
"Yeah?" She looked up into his eyes and studied him. "You should sit."
"I'm not staying."
"Please. For a few minutes." Heather already pulled out a chair for him and sat down on the opposite side of the table. "You're taking it easy, right? No more middle of the night rides."
He shifted on the chair and planted his elbow on the table. "I'm doing what needs to be done."
The light in her eyes turned to concern and the skin in the middle of her brows puckered. "Are you really doing okay?"
His heart drummed inside of him at being within touching distance of her, and he moistened his lips. He'd never had anyone ask him such a questions and feel like they honestly wanted to know the answer.
He nodded. "I'm good. A little stiff and sore but good."
Heather leaned closer to the table, reaching for his hand. He crossed his arms to keep her from touching him. His strength was returning, but he was weak when it came to Heather.
"Don't be like that," she whispered. "I care about you."
"Don't."
Her eyes widened. "Don't care?"
"Shit is going on, Heather. You look out for yourself and stay away from me." His rapid heartbeat hurt his chest, and he forced a deeper breath inside of him. "I shouldn't have played around with you. You're a good woman."
"And, what? You'v
e decided that you're a bad man?" Heather's gaze softened. "Give that story to someone else who hasn't gotten to know you. Whatever is going on with you has everything to do with you being attacked and your need to protect me. It's not about how I enjoy your company, and you've shown me you're interested."
"Like I said, you're a good—"
"I am." She stood from the table, stepped toward him, and bent down. "You're also good. That doesn't mean I'll let you act like an asshole toward me. Go home, get some rest, and for God's sake, take care of yourself. When you're back to being your normal self, come see me because I've missed you."
She kissed the top of his head, shocking him. All he could do was sit there and watch her walk up to the group of women across the room and join their conversation. She'd spoken words as if ordering him around and yet delivered them softly that he could still feel the vibration of warmth she'd left in his chest. That comfort she gave him made him feel better than he'd felt since he got his ass handed to him.
Heather leaned forward against the bar. Her hard, round ass pressed tight against her jeans. He stretched his leg out, leaned back in the chair, and wondered if Heather sensed he was ogling her. She shifted her hips side to side and then straightened, tilting back her head, and drank from a bottle of beer.
Not from a glass, which Gia preferred.
Not a mixed drink, which Jana liked.
No, Heather wrapped her slim fingers around the cold bottle and drank as if she enjoyed simply putting her lips on the round opening.
Rod brushed the back of his hand across his lips. He'd taken things slow and gotten to know her without putting any demands on her and had enjoyed every fucking minute of frustration.
He hadn't planned a relationship with Heather. It happened the moment she'd stepped forward and decked him in the mouth. Her strength surprised the shit out of him. Most people backed away when they spotted him.
Drawn to that strength, he discovered pure softness. It wasn't easy to get behind the layer of defense she carried around. Short on sharing and hesitant of his intentions, she'd slowly let down her guard until he was afraid of hurting her. Hurting Swiss. Hurting the club.
