Savage Kings MC Box Set 1

by Lane Hart

  “Shit,” I mutter.

  How the hell am I going to convince Nova that despite the court’s stupid ass decision, Ren should be with me during the hurricane, so I can make sure he’s safe?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Nova

  After our argument this morning, I have to say I’m surprised to hear a motorcycle pull up at my house that night.

  I’m up and making the four steps to the door from the living room chair when there’s an urgent knock on it.

  “I’m coming,” I call out as I turn the locks and pull it open.

  The first words out of War’s mouth are, “I’m going to get Ren,” catching me completely off guard.

  “What?” I ask. “You’ve already had three visitations this week…”

  “No,” he snaps when he storms in past me and takes up most of the room in the small space. “I’m not talking about visitation. I need to go get him and take him inland, hell, maybe all the way to the mountains.”

  “Are you drunk?” I ask when I catch a whiff of alcohol on his breath. “Were you driving drunk?”

  “What? No!” he exclaims. “I had, like, three beers in the last eight hours. And forget that shit. I need to know if you’ll try and get the court’s permission on this.”

  “Why would the court give you permission to get your son a week before the hearing date?” I ask.

  “Because of the fucking hurricane!” War explodes.

  “A hurricane?” I repeat.

  “Haven’t you seen the news?” he asks.

  “I only get like three channels here, so mostly I just read,” I explain.

  “What about on your phone? Do you read the news or check the weather?” he snaps.

  “I haven’t today, no. Why?”

  “There’s a big ass hurricane coming up from the south and barreling toward the Carolinas. It was supposed to hit Florida but it’s on a direct path toward our coast. They’re not sure yet where it will make landfall, but we’ll probably all be under a mandatory evacuation soon!”

  “Seriously?” I ask.

  “Yes!”

  “Shit,” I mutter. “That’s bad.”

  “I know!” War says. “And the only way to make sure that Ren is safe during the storm is if he’s with me. I’m going home to board up the windows on the house and pack our bags, then tomorrow morning, I’m going to get him…”

  “War, you can’t do that. Not without a court order,” I remind him. “Give me some time tomorrow when the court opens and let me see what I can do. This is an unusual situation, so maybe the judge will grant you temporary custody until the hearing.”

  “Do it,” he says, as if he thinks it’s as easy as snapping my fingers and making it happen.

  “I’ll try my best,” I tell him.

  “You better,” he threatens. “Because order or not, tomorrow afternoon, I’m going to get my son.”

  “Give me a chance to help you do this the right way. If not, the judge will have them put out an Amber alert all over the state, and then you’ll be arrested when they find you. You know what that means for your chances of getting permanent custody…”

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take, if it means keeping Ren safe during this storm,” he says, then adds, “You owe me this.”

  “Owe you?” I reply in disbelief.

  “Yeah, owe me!”

  My blood pressure rises so rapidly I can actually feel my face turning red.

  “I told you I would pay you back for the car repairs and the air conditioning,” I tell him.

  “Those debts are nothing compared to the two hundred grand I dropped,” he grumbles.

  “Two hundred grand?” I repeat in confusion.

  “That’s right,” War says. “Your medical bills and student loans have been wiped clean. You’re welcome. And now you’re gonna make damn sure that I get my son back.”

  An indignant scoff is all I’m capable of because words fail me. “Y-you…why…why would you do that?” I stammer before the realization hits me. “Are you trying to bribe me to write my report in your favor?”

  “I’m not trying. I’ve already done it,” War growls when he gets in my face. “And I’ll make sure everyone at Social Services knows too, if you don’t tell the judge that I deserve to have Ren back.”

  Then, he doesn’t give me a chance to respond before he turns and walks out, slamming the door so hard the entire frame shakes.

  “Asshole!” I shout as tears fill my eyes.

  Why I’m surprised by his ruthless behavior, I’m not even sure. Maybe because I thought he actually gave a shit about me since we’ve spent so much time together the last few weeks.

  After our argument earlier and now this, War’s made it clear I mean nothing to him, and that if he has to, he’ll gladly screw me over to get custody of his son.

  …

  “Come on, come on,” I mutter to myself the next morning at my desk, while the phone line rings in my ear over and over again, with no answer.

  Shit.

  Hanging up, I go through our office’s online rolodex and try to find the number to reach another clerk in one of the other judge’s chambers.

  Did I want to give in to War’s threats? No. But I do want to make sure Ren is safe, even if I had to endure a few days of chaperoning War to make that happen. Barbara, who runs the boys’ home, is sweet and all, but I have no idea if she can actually take care of four boys during a natural disaster.

  And the angry father version of War wasn’t kidding yesterday.

  As soon as the government said the words, “Voluntary evacuation,” everyone in town disappeared. I’ve never been around a hurricane before, but I’m starting to think they take them very seriously around here.

  The voluntary evacuation started last night, but this morning, a mandatory evacuation was ordered, requiring all visitors and residents to leave by eight p.m. tonight. I was hoping someone would still be at the courthouse. If I don’t get an answer in the next five minutes, I’ll just drive over there and hunt for a judge.

  Finally, though, someone picks up the damn phone.

  “Judge Morganstein’s chambers,” a frantic voice answers.

  “Thank goodness!” I say. “I’ve been trying to reach someone in Judge Reynolds’ chambers for over an hour!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, but the courts have closed for the rest of the week, due to Hurricane Augustine and the mandatory evacuation order. I’m just here to set up the voicemail forwarding…”

  “That’s exactly why I need to talk to Judge Reynolds! There’s a boy in the state’s custody, living at a foster home in Jacksonville. I need to ask him to let me and his father take him until after the storm.”

  “None of the judges will be back in chambers until after the island reopens. Depending on damage and power outages, that could be a week or more. You should get moving too, honey.”

  “I can’t!” I tell her, but she’s already hung up on me. “Dammit!”

  After I place the receiver in the cradle, I notice my red voicemail light is flashing. I pick up the phone again and enter my code to hear the message.

  “Nova, call me back.”

  He doesn’t even have to say his name since I recognize his gruff, angry voice.

  I don’t have a chance to even look up his number in my cell before my office phone rings again.

  “Nova McQueen,” I answer.

  “Any news?” War asks.

  “Not yet,” I tell him. “I’m still trying to reach the judge.”

  “What’s taking so long? The rain is already on its way!”

  “I know, I’m doing the best I can!” I tell him.

  “I’m coming to get you. You can make calls on the way to Jacksonville,” War says.

  “Fine,” I agree, since we’re running out of time and options.

  If we have to pick up Ren without a court order, then so be it. I can report back to the judge after the fact that we didn’t feel he would be safe staying so close to t
he coast. Like the old saying, it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission, right?

  “Wait for me outside. I’ll be there in ten,” War tells me before he ends the call.

  I gather up my things and head out to grab the bag I packed this morning from my car. Then, while I wait, I try to call Barbara at the boys’ home, to tell her we’re on the way, and try to smooth things over before we arrive and cause a scene in front of the kids.

  The only problem is, she doesn’t answer.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Pulling up the local news app on my phone, I quickly read through the article headlines until I find the one about evacuations.

  Not only is Emerald Isle under evacuation, but so are all the coastal towns…including Jacksonville.

  Rather than worry War unnecessarily, I decide to wait and pray they haven’t left yet, since their city has until the morning before they have to leave.

  I’m sure Barbara is just busy, packing and preparing…

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  War

  Nova is quiet on the way to Jacksonville. Too quiet.

  “What’s going on with you?” I snap, after thirty minutes of complete silence in the truck, other than the frantic swishing of the windshield wipers. And yes, I’m pissed because it’s already pouring down rain on us.

  When hasn’t it been raining since I met this woman?

  “Are you still pissed about the bribe?” I ask, figuring that’s the problem.

  “Yes,” she answers, while staring straight ahead at the gushing rain slamming against the windshield. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Believe it,” I tell her.

  Then neither of us speaks again for a while.

  My nerves are on fucking edge, trying to figure out how long it will take us to get down to Wilmington from Jacksonville to pick up my sister. Last night, I promised Audrey I would come and get her so she wouldn’t have to drive in the storm. Hell, if the thunder and lightning are this bad down south where she is, I’ll probably have to drag her kicking and screaming out of her apartment. As a kid, Audrey always got scared during thunderstorms. But after the night our parents went out to dinner in a storm and never came back, her astraphobia only grew worse.

  And I’m really fucking angry because I could’ve picked up Audrey last night if Ren hadn’t been taken away from me…

  “Can you see anything?” Nova eventually asks. When I steal a quick glance at her, she now has a white-knuckle grip on each of her armrests.

  “I know where the lines are on the road. That’s all that matters,” I tell her.

  “I would’ve pulled over by now,” she mutters.

  “My sister’s gonna be a sobbing mess by the time I get down to Wilmington,” I grumble.

  “What? Why?” Nova asks in confusion.

  “The thunder the night our parents died was so loud it shook the foundation of the house. Audrey was only thirteen, so even now, when the weather is bad, she freaks out. She’s been to several shrinks and shit, but nothing’s worked.”

  “That was a very traumatic experience,” Nova agrees. “It makes sense that even a small phobia would increase drastically after something so awful.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “And I don’t know for sure, but I’m pretty sure that the loudest boom we heard that night was the one that took down the power line in our neighborhood. The line that my dad swerved to miss and caused him to hit a tree head-on.”

  “Are you okay driving in this mess?” Nova asks.

  “I’m a grown ass man,” I scoff.

  “I know, but this type of storm must bring back a lot of memories for you too.”

  “It was years ago,” I tell her.

  “Right,” Nova agrees, even though I can hear the disbelief in her voice. Still, I don’t respond and neither of us say anything until we pull up to the boys’ home…and all the lights are off.

  “What the hell?” I ask before shoving the gearshift into park and jumping out to run up to the door. The side of my fist is pounding on the wood for the third time before Nova catches up.

  “Where the fuck are they?” I ask her while my fist continues hammering, even though it’s obvious no one is here.

  “I-I’m sorry,” Nova starts, but it’s hard to hear her over the sound of the heavy downpour and whipping wind surrounding us. “Jacksonville is under evacuation too. I was hoping they hadn’t left—”

  “You knew?” I shout at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I tried to call before you picked me up, but no one answered. I didn’t want you to panic…”

  “Of course I’m going to panic! There’s a deadly hurricane coming right at us, and I don’t know where my son is! And, in case you hadn’t noticed, the goddamn rain has already started!”

  “It’s just rain,” she says, because she’s only lived on the coast for a few months. I’ve lived here for years.

  “Look around,” I tell her, motioning to the left and right sides of the road. “What do you see?”

  “Um, there’s no one…”

  “That too!” I shout at her. “But the ground is flat as hell and under sea level. Do you know what that fucking means?”

  “Yes…no,” she mutters, wincing as the rain blowing sideways continues to drench us, soaking through our clothes and making waterfalls down our faces.

  “Everything fucking floods!” I yell. “There’s at least six inches of rain coming in tonight! That’s enough to flood most rivers around here since it’s been raining every damn day since I met you three weeks ago!”

  “Oh my god,” Nova groans. “You think it’s my fault the weather is shitty?”

  “Maybe so, because my life has been shitty, like there’s a black cloud following me, ever since I picked your ass up.”

  “Right,” she huffs. “It’s my fault it’s raining and it’s my fault a hurricane decided to turn. Oh, and I guess it’s my fault that your ex-wife overdosed, and the state took your son!”

  “This is all your fault!” I scream at her while pointing a finger at the empty house.

  “Ugh! Can we at least get in the car, so that I can try to make a few phone calls?” she asks before turning around and stomping back to the passenger side.

  I follow her and slide into the driver’s seat, needing to make a call on my phone too.

  “I’m sorry, okay,” Nova says as we both try to wipe away the moisture dripping down our faces. “I’ll keep making calls, trying to get an answer from someone about where they were headed.”

  “Thanks,” I grumble before pulling out my own phone to call my sister.

  “Hi, you’ve reached Audrey. Sorry I missed your call, but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!”

  “Shit,” I mutter when it goes to her voicemail. That must mean the storm is already pretty bad in Wilmington. Audrey won’t answer the phone if she sees even a single flash of lightning outside because she’s certain she’ll get electrocuted.

  After getting her voicemail two more times in a row, I give up and call Maddox instead.

  “Yes, sir?” Maddox answers on the second ring, just like I was counting on.

  “Where are you? Are you still on the island?” I ask desperately.

  “Yeah, I’m just finishing boarding up the Jolly Roger, and then I’m gonna get inland,” he says.

  “Good. Great. I need you to do me a favor,” I tell him in a rush.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m tied up, so I need you to take the club’s van and get your ass down to Wilmington to pick up my sister—”

  “You have a sister too?” he interrupts with a scoff. I forgot I’ve never told him about her. Only a few of my brothers know anything about Audrey, but not all of them.

  “Yeah, I have a sister, Audrey O’Neil,” I fill him in fast. “She goes to college at Westchester in Wilmington, and she lives in the Chatham apartments, number two-twenty-eight B. Got all that?”

  “Yes,” he answers, and I really
hope he’s telling the truth.

  “Whatever it takes, get her inland, at least west to Raleigh or Cary, and keep her safe. She should have credit cards to pay for a hotel if you’re low on cash,” I inform him. “Do this for me and I promise to slap that top rocker on your cut.”

  “I’m patching in?” the kid asks in shock. “Seriously? It’s finally gonna happen?”

  “It’s happening, kid. First, get my sister away from this fucking hurricane," I say. I’m depending on him to take care of Audrey since my hands are full, trying to track down where the hell they took Ren.

  “I’m on it. I’ll leave right now,” Maddox says, and then hangs up before I can explain to him how bad her astraphobia is. He’s a smart guy so he’ll figure it out, and Audrey will be in good hands.

  Now, I just need to find my son.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nova

  “I’m sorry,” I say in a rush to War after I’ve called everyone I can possibly think of, and he’s gone door-to-door in the neighborhood, looking for anyone who may know where Barbara and the boys went.

  “This is the last location Ren logged on his watch, so he must have left without it,” he grumbles.

  “So, I guess we’ll just…we’ll just have to wait until the storm passes,” I tell him, unable to hold back the sniffle because I know how worried and devastated he is right now.

  “No,” he replies.

  “No?”

  “No,” War repeats. “The white van is gone, that’s what they would be in, right?”

  “Yes,” I answer. “But they could be anywhere by now.”

  “They’re heading west, just like everyone else.” Pulling out his phone again, he punches in numbers and then puts the phone to his ear. “Sax, I need you to send out a message to all of the Kings heading west. Tell them to look for a white van with a dented in left rear bumper.”

  “How do you know that the bumper was dented?” I whisper, but War flashes me a narrowed look that says he remembers it clearly.