To the End: Year Four (Hannaford Prep Book 4)

by J Bree

  He belongs to my ice queen bestie now.

  Fuck. Yes.

  “Thank you for coming today, I have a lot to cover so leave all questions until after my statement.” He says in a clear and commanding voice. The press don’t make a freaking peep, just stand there with their voice recorders, cameras, and even some old fashioned paper.

  The Fed goes on and on about some bullshit policy and it takes me a second to catch on. “Corruption of law enforcement and political parties is not only illegal, but it demeans our great country. It has become clear that there are individuals using money, blackmail, and threats against lives to control vital members of our police force, both on the streets and in management positions.”

  Harley leans into me and whispers, “What a fucking hypocrite.”

  I shrug. “As long as it gets us what we want, who gives a fuck? This is the way of the world.”

  Ash threads his fingers through mine and takes the blunt Blaise offers him. “The world will be a better place without Senior in it, and if that means Avery has the entire fucking country in her pocket than fuck it. Hail Hydra or whatever.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “You’re such a freaking nerd. To think, everyone thinks you're this cool and unaffected asshole badass and you’re out here quoting Marvel movies like a fanboy. You’re a fucking disgrace, Beaumont.”

  Harley and Blaise both snicker at him like children but the glare Ash gives me promises a spanking later and, uhm, sign me the fuck up.

  The Fed rambles on for even longer until I start to get antsy, ready to get the fuck out of this city and back to Hannaford, and then he clears his throat, looking for the first time just a little bit nervous. I know before he speaks that this is the real move on the board, this is Avery’s giant FUCK YOU to Senior.

  She doesn’t disappoint.

  “And finally I have new information on an on-going investigation into the disappearance of the German socialite Lena Müller. As you all know, she was last seen in the Mounts Bay area four years ago and despite extensive canvassing the MBPD was unable to find her. We had an anonymous tip and based on that information we have been able to find and identify the remains of Miss Müller yesterday. We have already been in contact with her family and we ask that you all respect their privacy during this difficult time.”

  Ash’s whole body tenses and I squeeze his hand, whether to comfort him or to try to stop him from flipping his shit I don’t know, but he barely notices.

  The Fed takes another deep breath. “Further investigation of the burial site is still underway, but it has become clear that Lena’s death was at the hands of a depraved serial killer. Eleven bodies have since been recovered and we are working hard at securing positive ID’s on these women. The MBPD and the FBI are now working together to catch the person responsible and we will pursue them with the full force of the law.”

  “Holy fuck. Did you know about this?” Harley says, and I shake my head.

  “Aves told me she had Senior sorted, I didn’t realize she was going to ass fuck him like this.” I murmur.

  Ash takes a last lungful of musky smoke and then crushes the blunt under his boot. “Senior started it. He sold people out, Floss is just leveling the playing field. What do you think his chances of staying out of prison are?”

  I hum under my breath, watching as Avery and Atticus step away from the media circus now the questions have started flying. There’s no reason for them to stick around now the gauntlet has been thrown.

  “You said something about Senior’s crimes in other countries? Maybe an anonymous call should go out to them as well. Twist some arms and all that.”

  Ash grins for a second, staring down at me like a weight has been lifted from him and I smile back up at him like a pathetic, love-sick puppy. I mean, I’m a total fucking sap for him. Ugh.

  “Nothing would make me happier than Senior in a Columbian prison being made into some guy’s bitch.”

  Huh. You know what, I feel the same way.

  * * *

  I meet Avery for dinner that night and leave the boys in their room watching some stupid movie.

  Avery cooks us some over the top Italian dish I can't pronounce the name of but there’s pasta and sauce and I'm always down for that. She preens like a happy housewife at the look of appreciation I give her when she settles a plate in front of me. I grin back at her, totally fucking elated after the day we’ve had.

  "Is there a reason you're wining and dining me? Or is this just because you love me the most?" I say, trying not to moan at the taste of the food.

  She settles in her chair and fusses with her cutlery until it’s all perfectly straight. I know exactly what that means; I’m fluent in Avery Beaumont’s body language.

  "Just spit it out, Aves. You know you can say anything to me."

  She sighs dramatically. "I think it's time. I think it's time for you to go and confront the Boar.”

  I stare at her for a second as I wind the pasta onto my fork. It's not like I haven't been expecting this, it’s not like I haven’t been expecting her to call me out on my own bullshit, but I guess I've just been waiting for the shove in the back to actually go do it. I normally confront everything headfirst no matter how much pain it will cause me. But there's something about this, there's something about the idea of having a dad, that terrifies me.

  My mom dying was the best and worst day of my life. Not having her poison was such a relief but it also delivered me into the hands of the Jackal, creating the mess I'm in right the fuck now.

  What will my dad give me? What bullshit am I going to have to face for sharing DNA with this guy?

  I shove more food into my mouth like a sullen child, chewing and swallowing it without really tasting the deliciousness anymore. “Yeah, I know. I guess I have to bite the bullet and just go fucking do it."

  Avery nods and we both eat for a moment in silence as we think over what exactly this is going to entail.

  "I'm going by myself. I don't want the boys starting their bullshit. Ash is likely to stick a bullet between his eyes the second he tells me he's my dad just because he doesn't trust fathers, not that we can blame him for that. Harley will want to have an argument with him over the whole fucking thing in my defense, and Blaise… Blaise will crack some joke about our relationship and I don't know what sort of father the Boar might be but I don't need that shit in my life. Fuck that.“

  Avery smirks at me. "I think if he had a problem with it he would've said something by now. If it is him sending the boxes of heads, don't you think one of the boys would've shown up in there by now if he didn’t approve of your relationships?”

  A full body shudder takes over me. I cannot imagine the feeling of opening one of those fucking boxes to find one of my guys in there.

  Avery grimaces at the look I give her. "Sorry, I didn't even think before I spoke. Do you think it's him sending them?"

  I poke at my dinner. “I guess if this is a blood thing. It just freaks me out to think how much of my life he must know about if he's the one sending them. I mean, my full name is just the tip of that fucked up iceberg.“

  Avery nods. "To know that much about your life and to not have helped you this far is disgusting. Sending you the heads of your enemies now is too little too late. Are you going to tell him that?"

  I shrugged. "I have to be careful about what I say. Clearly sending the heads of enemies means he's a little bit fucking deranged. What if I reject him and his attempts at forming a relationship and he goes psychotic on us? We already have enough of that going on with the Jackal and Senior. The boxes are inconvenient but they're not currently a danger to us. I think I'll play it by ear, see how the conversation goes, and if he wants to keep in touch in a permanent, fatherly way I guess I can pick a phone up every now and then, even if I don’t fucking want to.“

  Avery hums. "Phone calls are easy. It's just if he wants to join us for family dinner, then we’ll have a problem. I don't think we can contain the guys from being absolute dickh
eads to him over a nice meal. What do bikers even eat?”

  I laugh at the look on her face and her use of the word dickhead. It's still funny to hear the girl curse.

  We fall into our usual topic of choice these days, college because fuck my life, and it’s not until we’re starting in on dessert and coffee that she brings up the other taboo topic, the one we can’t talk about around the guys.

  “Explain to me the Crow’s empire.” She says, sipping at her coffee delicately but I know it’s an act. She wants to look like she’s completely in control, even as her whole world is kind of crumbling away at the thought of the guy. Ugh, I hate it.

  “Like I said before, it’s all information and money. A bit of influence too. He does a lot of what you do.”

  She nods and drums her fingers against the countertop. “Explain the difference between his information and Illi’s. And the Coyote, you always call the three of them.”

  I hum under my breath, searching for the right way to explain something that’s now so ingrained in me that I don’t even have to think about it. “Illi is the man to go to for the word on the street. Like, stuff that isn’t written down, stuff no one is willing to pass on with their name attached to it. The Coyote is all hacking and data. He doesn’t give a fuck about anything except the numbers and the inboxes he digs into.”

  I take another deep sip. “Atticus deals in the type of information that can bring down businessmen, politicians, and entire countries. The stuff that happens in soundproof conference rooms and in the back of chauffeur driven Rolls Royces. Now we have access to all three sources there should be less gaps in our information. We won’t have the same problems we did with Atticus in the first place.”

  Avery hums under her breath. “So his information is like mine. I guess I knew that, but he seems to know everything before me so I did wonder who his sources were. Do you have any names?”

  I shake my head. “To be honest, before I knew who he was I stayed the fuck away from him. He’s kind of… infamous.”

  Avery arches an eyebrow. “For information? Were you afraid he’d dig up your middle name?”

  I groan at her, ignoring the cackle that tears out of her, except that I freaking love the sound. “No. He and the Jackal… they came in a tie. They won the same year, two members were killed in the same incident. The Jackal fucking hates that he didn’t come out on top of the Game. No one else even remembers it but I guess he’s always been deranged.”

  Avery’s head tilts. “So this rivalry comes from the Jackal not wanting a joint win? Jesus H. Christ.”

  I nod. “Yep. He thinks it makes a difference even though it really doesn’t. He’s been after the Crow from day one, it’s why their empires are always about the same size, if the Jackal gets bigger than the Crow he’ll be more likely to take him out.”

  Avery’s fingers drum out a pattern on the countertop again, the sound soothing to her. “That’s all the more reason to take the psycho out then, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I step into the Boar’s clubhouse and do my best not to let the disgust show on my face. The whole place smells like cigarettes, cheap whiskey, and gun powder, with the underlying smell of sex covering every flat surface. Fucking gross.

  A lot of eyes follow me as I make my way up to the bar. I ignore them, totally unconcerned with their interest and secure in my status as the Wolf of Mounts Bay. They all know what I can do.

  “You lost, little girl?” Someone calls out, and I slide onto one of the bar stools.

  “I need to speak to the Boar.” I say to the bartender, a biker bitch with a low cut tank barely covering her chest. Fuck, I think I can see the tops of her freaking nipples which was not on my plans for tonight.

  She nods at me, sliding a glass of whiskey my way and jerking her head to one of the other girls. “Just excuse the boys, your type don’t come in here much and they’re not really used to acting like gentlemen.”

  My type? Fuck me, I’m wearing booty shorts and a Vanth tee not a Chanel fucking dress.

  I’m saved from saying any of this by the Boar arriving, a deep frown on his face. The bartender grimaces and steps away as if being next to me is going to make her guilty of something.

  “Wolf. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  I shrug. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I should pop in for a chat.”

  He stares at me for a second, then gestures at me to follow him. I leave the glass of whiskey, happy to see more of this place. I like to know my way around places, just in case. If the Boar isn’t my dad, maybe someday I’ll need to get in here and take him out. Fuck, even if we are related I might slit the fucker’s throat someday.

  It’s not like he’s given a shit about me so far.

  He leads me to a large meeting room with a huge table and at least fifty chairs, all hand carved out of a deep rich wood. Someone around here has some serious talent. The Boar dismisses two of his bikers and shuts the door behind them until we’re alone.

  “This is where we hold church; never been a woman in here for anything except cleaning. Some of the boys might take offense to that.”

  I roll my eyes. “They are welcome to come and voice their concerns with me. I’m not as selective with who I kill for insulting me.”

  He huffs out a laugh and takes a seat across from me, leaning back in the chair like he’s on a fucking beach somewhere and this is all so relaxing. I’m sitting like I have an iron rod rammed up my ass, I’m that freaking tense.

  We stare at each other for a moment, the silence thick but not exactly uncomfortable.

  There’s no point in beating around the bush, I cut straight to the point. “I want to know why you sided with the Crow.”

  There’s a pause for a second while he eyes me like he’s trying to decide if I’m worthy enough for a real answer. I try not to let my irritation show.

  “You’re a smart kid, what’s the going theory?” He says and I watch him to try and find some sort of tell, some resemblance I’ve missed before but there’s nothing.

  I ignore his question. “Why did you say no to the Jackal?”

  He grunts and scratches at his beard. “Because he’s a fuckin’ psycho. Something just not right in that kid's head.”

  I nod and say, “Why did you tell him it was a blood thing?”

  He grimaces and cuts me a look, finally dropping his bullshit. “I’ve heard about the Crow sniffing around my bloodlines, kid, I ain’t your daddy.”

  I should feel relief but, fuck, now we have to start at square one again. “I didn’t say you were. I just don’t understand why blood comes into it and I’m kind of on a time crunch here.”

  He frowns and turns in his chair, placing the bottle of beer down to focus entirely on me. “Why? Someone bothering you?”

  I snort. “Uh, yeah. Lots of people are bothering me. The Jackal is only about a third of my overall problems, believe it or not.”

  “And why is asking me about blood going to help you with the rest?”

  Fuck, I hate the secrecy bullshit. I hate the half-truths and twisting of words. Answering questions by asking another. I should’ve asked Avery to come here and do it for me.

  I pull myself into the Avery Beaumont Power Pose, hoping it’ll help me keep my damn head, and I make sure my voice is level as I reply, “Someone is killing people who have wronged me. Sending me their heads in fucking boxes. There’s only ever been one note and it mentioned blood, the same way you did.”

  The Boar blinks at me.

  Then he swears viciously under his breath. It’s pretty clear this motherfucker knows who it is. Maybe the trip wasn’t completely wasted after all.

  He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I ain’t your daddy but I know who is. He’s a miserable excuse of a human and I wish to god I’d killed him when I had the chance long before you were born. He ain’t the one sending you the boxes, he doesn’t give a shit about any of the poor bastards he’s fathered, but I know who’s sending them. I’ll…
stop it from happening.”

  Two very important things stand out to me from his little speech; my father is definitely scum, and I have siblings. The Boar knows about my siblings.

  I manage to find my voice, but it’s no longer calm and even. I rasp out, “Don’t, just tell me who it is and give me my father’s real name. Please. I’ll call in a favor if I have to.”

  He shakes his head at me and grabs the beer bottle, draining the last of the liquid in one go. “No favors, kid. Your father is my older half-brother. He’s the President of the Chaos Demons MC up in Indiana, and he’s a piece of fucking shit. Don’t go looking for him, he’ll only find a way to break you open and sell you for parts. You have two brothers in the MC and five other bastard siblings around the country because your pop doesn’t like wrapping up. He tells women a fake name so they can’t come knocking for child support. I took one look at you when you showed up at the Game as a scrawny little kid and knew you were one of his. You look just fucking like… never mind. Just don’t go looking. I’ll back you in this fight, and any others you might have because of blood.”

  Seven fucking siblings?!

  I need to sit down before I pass the fuck out. Wait, my ass is already planted. Sweet lord, how the fuck am I going to track them all down? Do I want to? Fuck!

  The Boar gives me a wry grin. “The boys in the MC are good enough, but they’re under your pops thumb so don’t bother going looking for them. Three of the bastard kids are fine. Grown up with decent moms, going to college, living white collar lives.”

  I clear my throat but it doesn’t help. “And the other two?”

  The smirk turns into a grimace. “I watch out for them, like I do for you. I do what I can.”

  I don’t see how he’s watched out for me, not really, and I scrub my face with a palm, groaning. “Why? If you hate him so much then why bother?”

  The Boar leans back in his seat and glances around the room, rubbing his jaw. I study him but I still can’t find any resemblance. Fuck, he’s my uncle. Today couldn’t get any fucking weirder.