Colson (The Henchmen MC Book 20)

by Jessica Gadziala

  She planted her thigh on the other side of my body, straddling me. A small gasp escaped her when my hard cock glided against her pussy, her thighs tightening at my sides.

  "Another time, babe," I assured her when I saw the mix of emotions crossing her face. The desire and the uncertainty and the regret.

  "Yeah," she agreed, giving me a small smile as she got off of me and the bed, straightening her clothes, fluffing her hair a bit, then making her way toward the door, peeking out. "They're not going to bite, babe," I told her, folding up in the bed. "I will be right out," I added, getting up to go into the bathroom.

  By the time I convinced my cock to calm down, and brushed my teeth, and made my way out into the common area, several of the guys were hanging around.

  Huck, Fallon, Laz, and Brooks.

  "Your woman made us coffee," Huck declared, toasting me with his mug.

  "Jacob in the kitchen too?" I asked.

  "Jacob?" Huck repeated.

  "Tyler said he was out back," Lazarus said. "That's probably them," he added when someone pulled open the back door.

  And in they walked.

  Tyler, yeah, who I barely noticed.

  But Jacob too.

  Jacob who looked fucking exhausted.

  His eyes were puffy, sunken, lined with bags.

  Like he hadn't slept at all.

  Or at least, not enough.

  But that made no sense.

  He'd been on the couch passed out when I had taken Eva to my room.

  If he'd had gotten up, someone would have told us.

  "There you are," Eva said, coming up at my side, handing me a coffee, but looking at her son. "You look tired. Bad dreams?" she asked, mom-mode in full force.

  I couldn't tell her that I had a strange feeling, that there was something niggling at the recesses of my mind.

  I couldn't explain it to myself, so how could I tell her about it?

  "Ah, yeah, kinda," Jacob agreed.

  She'd raised a shitty liar. Which, I guessed, was a good thing. Jelena was a terrible liar too. I always figured it was her own sense of right and wrong that made her so terrible at it.

  Eva seemed to pick up on the false note, but didn't call him out on it. I figured maybe she didn't want to out him on having nightmares at his age around a bunch of rough and tough sort of men. It would be embarrassing.

  "You hungry?" she asked. "I was thinking about making the guys some breakfast as a thank you for letting us crash here last night."

  "Yeah," Jacob said, giving her a nod.

  "Alright. Is everyone eating? I know," she said when their faces all lit up, "stupid question. Men are always hungry, aren't you? Okay. Let me go see what I can do."

  "You want to, ah, watch cartoons or something?" Huck asked, clearly at a loss around anyone younger than him.

  "I'm fourteen," Jacob shot back.

  "Shit, man. I dunno. Cinemax then?" he asked, getting a chuckle out of Fallon, Laz, and Brooks.

  Huck tossed the remote toward Jacob, hopped off the couch so he could sit, and moved over toward me.

  "So, is she a good cook?" he asked, sounding as eager as a kid on Christmas Eve. I couldn't imagine he lived the kind of lifestyle that allowed for home-cooked meals.

  "I have no idea," I admitted.

  "Her kid is skinny," he observed as though that might be proof that she was a terrible cook.

  "Hard to fuck up breakfast, I said, shrugging.

  "Hey, what the fuck?" Fallon's voice exploded suddenly, making both Huck and I look over, following his gaze toward where he was glaring at Jacob. Who was looking at something shiny in his hands.

  "What?" I asked, confused.

  "Where the fuck did you get that?" Fallon raged, standing, towering over Jacob, everything about him tight, tense.

  Shock?

  Anger?

  A combination of the two, maybe.

  "I, it's nothing," Jacob insisted, reaching to try to tuck whatever it was back into his pocket.

  But he underestimated Fallon, who closed the distance between them, reached down, yanked up Jacob's hand, and pried the silver thing out of the kid's palm.

  "Fallon, fill us in," Laz invited, watching the interaction.

  "This is my dad's fucking money clip," Fallon declared, holding it up.

  "Looks generic," I said, seeing nothing differentiating about it.

  "Yeah?" Fallon shot back. "Then why are mine and my siblings' names on the inside?" he asked, a muscle in his jaw ticking before he turned back to Jacob. "Where did you find this?" he demanded, heated but not enraged, likely thinking Jacob had found it around the clubhouse and had swiped it. Which was shitty, but not something to lose his mind over.

  But I was pretty sure Fallon saw it when I saw it.

  Something crossed Jacob's face. Something dark and guilty. Something that made his jaw go tight, his gaze skitter away.

  "Have you seen my father?" Fallon roared, the sound loud enough to make me wince.

  "What's going on?" Eva asked, appearing at my side, drying her hands on a dishtowel casually until she saw the older, bigger biker towering over her son.

  "Fucking answer me, kid," Fallon demanded, getting closer as Jacob's jaw went tight, his gaze unwavering on the coffee table in front of him.

  Something wasn't right.

  I could see it.

  And, what's more, Fallon could see it.

  "Colson?" Eva asked, voice rising a bit.

  "Jacob has something that belongs to our president," I told her.

  "Jacob! Did you steal from here? Are you out of your freaking mind?" she hissed, eyes moving around the room, worried about the men gathered, and what they might do to her son or her.

  "Where did you fucking find this, kid?" Fallon roared, making Jacob jump, his shoulders pulling up toward his ears.

  "For God's sake, Jacob. Answer him," Eva pleaded.

  "He's not answering because he didn't fucking get it from around here," Fallon declared. "Right, kid? You found this somewhere else. Tell me where."

  "He was here last night," Eva insisted, and I could feel her gaze on me, silently begging me to step in, to make Fallon calm down.

  But I wasn't sure that there was any calming him down until he got the answers he needed.

  "Where the fuck did you find the clip?" Fallon demanded again, hand grabbing the front of Jacob's shirt, hauling him off the couch, yanking him close to his face. "I don't give a fuck if you're underage," he told him. "I will beat the information out of you if I need to."

  I expected Jacob to crack. Which was why I pushed Eva back when she tried to charge forward. He wasn't a street kid. He was soft.

  But someone had gotten to him, had said something to make him keep his lips clamped shut.

  "Fine," Fallon decided, arm cocking back.

  Eva's voice gasped inward.

  I didn't know what was right in that moment, what Reign would have thought was the correct move.

  All I knew was what my own moral compass said.

  And that was that I couldn't let Fallon beat the shit out of a kid.

  Making my way across the space, I grabbed Fallon's hand, removing it from Jacob's shirt, then moving between them, forcing Jacob to fall back onto the couch.

  "Fucking move, Colson," Fallon snapped.

  "No."

  "That fucker has an item that my father would have had on him when he disappeared. Get the fuck out of my way so I can figure out where he found it."

  "You need to calm down," I declared. "Then we can all talk."

  "You saw him. He doesn't want to talk," Fallon growled. "I have to make him talk."

  "I can't let that happen," I told him, trying for calm even as my own mind was racing with the implications of what it could mean that Jacob potentially had contact with Reign, or knew who might.

  I underestimated Fallon. and his desperation to find his father.

  I barely even noticed the motion as his hand went into his waistband.

  But I
damn sure noticed it when the gun cocked and pressed to my forehead.

  "Get out of my fucking way, Colson."

  "Fallon," Lazarus tried, calm, patient, not wanting to set him and his itchy trigger-finger off.

  "Oh my God. Oh my God," Eva's voice cried as I could hear feet on stairs to the basement, someone going to get Cash.

  "Move," Fallon demanded, pressing the muzzle of the gun deeper into my skin

  "That's enough of that," I could hear Huck grumble.

  Within two seconds, he was across the room, grabbing Fallon at the wrist, pointing the gun toward the ceiling as he twisted between me and Fallon, slamming a massive hand into Fallon's chest, sending him flying backward, across the closest chair as he slipped the gun out of his hand.

  "The fuck is the matter with you?" Huck demanded, shoving Fallon in the chest again as he tried to scramble up.

  "What the hell is going on?" Cash's voice demanded, winded, Laz at his heels, having rushed off to get him.

  "The little prince here was holding a gun on Colson who was trying to shield the kid from a beating."

  "That kid has Dad's money clip," Fallon objected, practically shaking with rage.

  Cash's gaze moved around the room, taking everything in.

  "Okay," he said, holding a hand up. "You're sure it's Reign's clip?"

  "Yes," Fallon agreed.

  "Alright," Cash said, nodding toward me, jerking his head to tell me to move to the side. "What's your name, kid?"

  "Jacob," Eva supplied, drawing Cash's attention.

  "Jacob. And you're his mom."

  "Yes, Eva," she said, nodding frantically.

  "No one is going to beat your son, Eva," Cash said, tone surprisingly calm.

  "No?" she asked, looking over the men in the room.

  "No," he assured her.

  "Well, then can I?" she asked, making a shocked snort escape Huck. "I swear to God, I've never raised a hand to that kid, but I am this close," she said, pinching her fingers together, "to making him march out there and pick a switch off the tree for me to whoop him with."

  "Let's call that the back-up plan," Cash said, making his way over toward where I was standing beside Jacob, lowering himself down on the coffee table. "I'm Cash," he greeted. "That money clip you had belongs to my brother, Reign. He's the president of this MC and he's been missing. And we have been trying to find him before something bad happens. Look," he went on when Jacob's gaze stayed downcast, making it impossible to read. "I don't want to think you're a bad kid. Your mom seems like a nice woman. And I don't think you'd want her to get in trouble here because of something you did, right?"

  It was bluster. No one here put their hands on women. But if the kid didn't want to save himself, Cash was taking a chance on him wanting to save his mom.

  "I'm going to ask you this once. You get one shot at this before shit starts to get real, okay? Where did you get that money clip?"

  "I found it," Jacob mumbled, his lower lip trembling.

  "When?"

  "Last night," he said.

  "You were here last night," Eva said. "On the couch. Did you find it before then?" she asked.

  "No," Jacob admitted.

  "He couldn't have left," Fallon insisted.

  "Shut up," Cash demanded quietly. "Did you leave last night, Jacob?" To that, he got a nod. "How? How did you get out?" he asked.

  Then Jacob's head rose, his gaze seeking, looking around the space, landing on someone.

  Tyler.

  Who was walking in the front door.

  "What's going on?" Tyler asked, brows furrowing at the strange scene before him.

  "Tyler helped you sneak out?" Cash asked.

  "You motherfucker," Tyler snapped, betrayed glare shooting in Jacob's direction.

  "You're so fucking dead," he added, turning to go back out the door.

  "Hey—" Huck started to yell.

  But out of fucking nowhere, Brooks appeared, grabbing Tyler in a hold from behind, his leg kicking out, knocking into the back of his knee, forcing Tyler onto his knees.

  "Got 'em," Brooks said, shrugging it off like it was no big deal.

  "Good. Hold onto him for a minute. We'll fucking get to him," Cash said, and it was the first time I'd heard anything close to rage in his voice, but it was a dark, cold kind of rage. The tone was gone, though, as he glanced back toward Jacob. "Alright. So. Tyler helped you out. Why? Where did you go? Who did you see?"

  Again, there was the quivering lower lip. "Tell them," Eva said, voice tense. "Tell them you went to see Uncle Miguel. Tell them."

  "Mom."

  "I'm sorry, bud. If it comes to saving you or saving your piece of shit uncle, I'm going to choose you every time. His uncle is part of Third Street," Eva declared. "Where did Miguel take you last night? Did you see their leader? Tell them," she begged, voice getting thick, eyes filling up.

  "See that, kid?" Cash asked. "You're making your mom cry," he said, and there was no mistaking the guilt in Jacob's eyes. "She's choosing you over your uncle. Will you choose her over him?" he asked, but got nothing. "Colson," he said then, nodding toward Eva.

  I knew his play.

  Make Jacob think I was going to hurt Eva.

  Even though we all knew that was not going to happen.

  So I ambled closer. "It's okay," I mouthed to her, eyes begging her to understand what was happening.

  She gave me the barest of nods as my arm lifted, reached out toward her.

  "No!" Jacob cried, jumping up. "Don't touch her. I'll tell you. I... we went to a garage. There's this storage garage. Tan. All by itself off the highway. He's there, okay? They have him chained up there. Don't touch her," he demanded.

  "Smart choice, Jacob," Cash declared, clamping a hand on Jacob's shoulder. "Okay. Eva, hon, you guys are going to need to stay here," Cash told her, getting a somewhat frantic nod from Eva. "It's safer here. In case Third Street figures out Jacob is in on this, okay?"

  "Okay," she agreed, reaching out toward her son, wrapping her arms around him, pulling his back against her front.

  "Why don't you go to Colson's room for now until we figure this out," he suggested.

  "It's going to be okay," I assured her as she walked past, wondering if there would ever be a way to recover from this, if everything was irreparably fucked.

  "Fallon, Laz, whoever is here, get them up, get everyone back here right fucking now," Cash said, every inch of him going tense. "Brooks, Huck, why don't you take our friend downstairs," he said, the ice slipping back into his voice again. "Get him nice and comfortable," he added. "We need to head out."

  We waited until we had a dozen of the men back at the clubhouse before we all strapped on and made our way out of the grounds, heading toward the garage Jacob had mentioned.

  I should have been spending the ride mentally preparing for a possible shootout, for some form of hand-to-hand action.

  But my mind was back in the clubhouse, back to my room. Where Eva and Jacob were still sitting, waiting to hear the outcome of this situation, for how things were going to go from this point on.

  Before I could even attempt to figure out what might happen to Jacob for his involvement—knowing something had to happen, that even being underage wouldn't be an excuse for being a part of Reign's imprisonment and torture—we were all pulling into the abandoned lot.

  We moved as one, a row of men reaching for their guns, circling around the building.

  Everyone's body instantly stiffened at finding the door open halfway, the inside dark.

  Cash and Fallon charged in first while the others followed. I hung back, feeling around the wall for the switch, flicking it up, making everyone blink into the vast, empty space.

  Well, empty save for one storage cabinet, a massive chain scattered around, and blood staining the cement floor.

  Most of it old, dried.

  But some new.

  "Fuck," Fallon roared, raking a hand through his hair, helpless, unsure what to do.

  We s
tood there in defeated silence, broken only by the ringing of Cash's phone.

  "Summer, babe, we think...what?" he asked, glancing around, eyes wide, lips parted. "Slow down. What? You're sure? Okay. Yeah. Alright. I will meet you."

  "What's going on?" I asked as he numbly tucked his phone away again.

  "Reign is at the hospital."

  "What?" Fallon asked

  "Yeah," he said, nodding. "He's in surgery. But he's safe. He's in rough shape, kid," he said, holding up a hand in warning. "But he's alive."

  "She's sure?" Fallon asked.

  "Yeah. She got to see him for a minute before they took him in to fix his shoulder."

  "I need... we need to go," Fallon said, already making his way toward the door.

  "The rest of you," Cash said, looking at all of us while Fallon's bike roared to life. "Get back to the club. I want heavy guard duty. If they know they lost Reign, I don't know what they will do. No one leaves," he added, looking right at me. "And no one goes near Tyler until I can talk to Reign."

  I could practically see the layers of stress and responsibility melting off of Cash's shoulders. He still had to call the temporary shots, but Reign was alive. Reign would eventually be okay. And Reign could handle the plan for retribution.

  "Go," Huck said, giving him a nod. "We will tell the others and handle the club. Go see your brother. Comfort his wife. We got this."

  With that, Cash rushed off.

  Leaving, I guess, Huck in charge since Wolf was likely on his way to the hospital as well.

  "Let's go. And eyes peeled," Huck said, waving out to the sides with two fingers, wanting everyone else to fall in line.

  There was chaos in the clubhouse as we informed everyone of the news, as they felt relief swell, then pass as they realized this was far from over. Reign was alive. But the men who had hurt him were free.

  There was going to be blood on the streets, on our hands.

  The mood went from celebratory to somber in a matter of minutes as Huck shouted out orders, sending people in different directions.

  "Why don't you send that kid out here to hang with me for a bit?" Huck asked.

  "Huck—"

  "Not to fucking question him. Christ," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm figuring you need to square shit up with his mom. Hard to do that with the kid there looking all guilty and shit. I'll throw some food at him and stick him in front of the TV."