Rather than speeding to catch up, I have to hit my brakes when I spot the SUV pulled over. Swerving the Harley, I quickly park across from the vehicle and use my bike as cover. Wyatt follows my lead while texting our people with an update. I study the large man struggling with someone at the open back door. I assume Monroe’s giving him shit.
“There are only two of them!” Monroe screams from the SUV.
I glance at Wyatt, who already has his gun out. We move fast, giving the enemy little time to adjust to our arrival. The guy battling Monroe can’t pull his weapon before I shove him against the SUV. The second asshole is outside and hiding now.
“Come out before we kill your friend!” I yell while glancing into the SUV to find Monroe and Needy grinning back at me.
“Move it, fucker!” Wyatt hollers, sounding like a psycho like usual.
“Don’t get shot, David Clive!” Needy yells, looking out her window. “You’re too young to die!”
Realizing these guys are Clive’s sons, I see a chance to negotiate an end to our problem. I press the gun against the meathead in front of me and explain, “Tell him to surrender, and we’ll talk this shit out. If not, I’m letting my cousin start firing. The fucker’s not right in the head and doesn’t care if he dies today. Are you as cool with your brother getting iced?”
The guy frowns back at me and then yells out, “David Clive, put the pistol away! We’ll talk this out!”
“Fuck that!”
“Pa ain’t gonna like me getting a bullet in the head.”
I glance at where my cousin inches around the back of the SUV. “Wyatt, let him come out and call up his dad to fix this problem.”
“Fuck them both.”
“Bronco won’t be around much longer to protect you,” I hiss at my cousin. “Obey me or get the fuck out of my way.”
I notice the distinct sound of two motorcycles approaching. One likely belongs to Anders, while the other is Drummer. Neither of them will offer Wyatt protection if I have to break something on his still-battered face.
My cousin realizes he’s failing his test. I catch him imagining a life where he doesn’t wear the Executioners’ patch or live in our gated community. Suddenly, a light bulb goes off over his fucking head, and he shifts gears.
“Come on out,” he says, sounding like a normal person rather than a rabid dog.
Monroe scoots out of the SUV, still bound at the wrists. “David Clive, just come out. Your dad can fix this with the Executioners. It’s okay.”
Finally, the big hunk of North Dakota cheese peeks around the SUV with his hands up. Wyatt wants to pound on the guy so badly that I can feel him physically fighting the urge. Instead, he grabs the guy’s gun from his waistband and gestures for David Clive to join his brother.
Anders and Drummer park their motorcycles across the road and keep watch. I notice the McNamee boys eyeballing our giant. They react like most men when witnessing the monster-sized man.
“Call up your father to see if he can negotiate an end to this that doesn’t involve you two sharing a grave.”
The brothers share a look. I sense they’re as scared of pissing off their dad as they are of us killing them. Using my switchblade, I remove the binds from Monroe and Needy. My woman takes charge when her cousins don’t move. Fishing a phone from the older one’s jacket pocket, she dials her uncle’s number and sets the phone to speakerphone.
Then, Monroe smiles at me in a way that says she always knew I’d come for her and nothing will keep us apart
MONROE
I’ll never get sick of Conor saving me. From the first day we crossed paths, the man can’t stop improving my life. Today, though, he’s especially impressive as he appears at the SUV. Has there ever been a man so effortlessly sexy as the one who casually pins beefy Brian Clive against the car?
Wyatt is far less cool, and the Executioners arriving at the scene are ready to start pounding on my cousins. Conor has a sensible plan. I can tell by the tone of his voice. But if Bronco and Lowell take over, my hero won’t get to shine today.
That’s why I yank out Brian Clive’s cell and dial my uncle. Conor needs to be the one to handle this situation.
Over the speakerphone, Uncle Clive’s rough voice answers.
“We got a problem, Pa,” Brian Clive tells his dad.
“I thought you grabbed them.”
“We did, but their friends caught up with us.”
“Are they around now?” Uncle Clive asks as his tone shifts. I can picture him in his wood-paneled office, snapping at his people to listen in on the call.
“Hello,” Conor says, flashing a smile at me. “This is Conor Jessup. I’m your niece’s future husband.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, so you can imagine my alarm when your boys showed up and tried to take what’s mine.”
“Do you know who I am, boy?”
“Sure. Got your address and everything. Wanna know who I am?”
“I assume you’re one of those bikers Needy fucked back in the day.”
“Spot on about the biker part, but my dick was far too tiny to fuck Needy twenty years ago. All you need to know, though, is how your niece is in good hands, and she won’t be going anywhere.”
“Listen up, boy, Monroe made promises, and she needs to keep them.”
“I understand that, old-timer,” Conor says casually as if teasing his mom. “Don’t get me wrong. I know how business works, but let me explain how we’re going to make everyone happy. First, I’ll pay back the money Monroe took for her trip. That’ll make you two square.”
“I don’t give a shit about the cash.”
“Wrong,” Conor replies immediately. “Now, let’s talk about the political nerd you have set up for Monroe. I’m sure there’s some play for you there, but leaving her here offers you a new alliance in a location where you have zero power. That political nerd is just offering you access in a state where you already run shit. Why waste a fine woman like Monroe on a twerp who can’t give you anything of worth?”
“You don’t know what he’s offering me.”
“No, but I know what I’m offering you,” Conor says, hardening his tone ever so slightly. “You can leave her here, which will tie you to the Executioners Motorcycle Club and our alliances. Or you can go to war with us and our alliances. Just to force your niece to marry a man unworthy of such a sexy body.”
Hiding my anxiety, I respond to his comment by rolling my eyes and mouthing, “You’re so horny.”
Shrugging, Conor eyes the phone. He probably worries my uncle won’t play ball. How long before Lowell and Bronco take over? I don’t want my idiot cousins to end up buried in these woods. Worse, though, would be for Conor to look weak in front of his club brothers.
“Uncle Clive,” I say in my sweetest voice, “I’m sorry I ran off with your money. I just wanted to meet my dad and find Needy. Now, I’m in love with Conor. His uncle is the president of the Executioners, and my dad is the vice president. Conor and I make sense, you know? But I’m still sorry I left like I did.”
Conor smiles at my words, likely knowing I’m playing up the girly crap. Brian Clive shoots me a frown, also realizing I’m full of shit.
“I don’t care about the money,” Clive lies again. “Running off like you did put me in a bind.”
“I know, but I was scared to tell you the truth.”
“You don’t need to fear me, Monroe.”
Even his sons roll their eyes at this comment, but I sense Clive is adjusting to the new situation.
“So, sir,” Conor says, effortlessly respectful after years of faking that shit with his older club brothers, “Monroe belongs here. Whatever happened in Minton or your sons’ behavior today can be water under the bridge. But that’s really up to you.”
After making us stew for half a minute, Uncle Clive says, “Monroe’s first fiancé has his heart set on marrying her.”
“I did a little research on the nerd,” Conor says immediately. “I
f he’s making threats, I can’t imagine he’ll be a problem that isn’t easily solved by a bullet to the brain.”
Conor watches Brian Clive, who leans against the SUV as if waiting for a party to start. David Clive, though, looks nervous. I think he caught sight of Anders and fears getting torn in half.
“And Needy’s husband?” Uncle Clive asks.
“Based on how easily we grabbed his woman, the guy ain’t much of a threat to anyone. I don’t suspect his death would be mourned.”
“I see,” Uncle Clive mutters, and I swear I hear him snapping for someone to do something in the background.
My uncle assumed his boys would pull off an easy extraction like we did with Needy. He greatly underestimated my willingness to get violent and the Executioners’ quick reaction. Now, his boys are in the hands of the enemy. Uncle Clive can’t threaten his way out of this situation. Money won’t help, either. For the first time in years, my uncle doesn’t have the upper hand.
But fortunately for him, Conor thinks long term. I have no doubt if Wyatt—or even Bronco and Lowell—were handling this situation that my cousins would be buried by nightfall. The older Executioners view overkill as the best solution. That’s how Clive thinks, too. They needed to be brutal to get to the top. Remaining above everyone involves more finesse, though, and my man is as smooth as they come.
“So, Mister McNamee, should I treat your boys as the enemy or my future in-laws?” Conor asks when Clive remains quiet for too long.
“Anyone injured already?” Uncle Clive asks, buying himself more time and probably wanting to hear from his boys.
Rather than point out how his sons threatened an innocent girl—something he’ll give zero fucks about—I keep the tone light like Conor. “David Clive punched me in the head, and I kicked him in the balls. So, we’re about even.”
I’m not surprised to hear Uncle Clive chuckle. He loved when my cousins and I wrestled around. Right now, I use his affinity for a cousin fight to distract from how he’s out of options. Uncle Clive gets mean when he’s scared. I want him to feel comfortable, so he’ll let Conor make peace rather than force the current Executioners’ management to start a war.
“Seems about right,” he says, and I notice less tension in his voice. “Monroe, get your cousins back on the road. Then, I’ll deal with Needy’s husband and the Bismarck fathead.”
“I kicked out their back window,” I say and smile at Brian Clive, who glares at me. “Shouldn’t they get that fixed first? Cops might hassle them on the way home, otherwise.”
Of course, the Executioners want my cousins out of town as soon as possible. Conor probably does, too. Yet, I know Uncle Clive’s ego. He’s still smarting at how his boys are looking down the barrels of other men’s guns. The McNamee family is accustomed to making threats, not backing down to them.
However, showing my cousins hospitality offers Uncle Clive the respect his ego demands. He’s not a suicidal man, but he clearly underestimated the situation in Elko if he thought his two boys could handle these bikers. I don’t want him thinking he needs to prove his dick size by sending down guys to shoot up the town. Yeah, he’d pay a bloody price, but so would my people.
“We have a complex where they can stay while the SUV is fixed,” Conor offers, trusting that I’m not just being nice out of the goodness of my heart. “They’ll be safe on our territory. You know, assuming they’re my woman’s cousins and not the guys that shoved guns in our people’s faces.”
Conor has a way of sounding reasonable, soft even, yet there’s usually a hint of malice behind his words. That’s why he’s difficult to read. His mood is never obvious, and the feelings he reveals to people often aren’t real. Though I’ll never be able to know him like I want, I’m beginning to realize his ability to hide is like his superpower. No way should he give it up just to make my life a little easier.
“Let me talk to Brian Clive,” my uncle says, and Conor tosses the phone to my oldest cousin.
Once we step back, Brian Clive turns off the speakerphone and listens as his dad tells him how to behave. Uncle Clive knows his boys aren’t smart. They’re not really dumb, either, as long as they have guidance. Uncle Clive told them to come to Elko, find Needy and me, and grab us when they got the chance. Nothing more complicated. That’s what they did, and it didn’t work. Now, they need new instructions like a computer program finished with its first task.
“Alright, Pa,” Brian Clive says and hangs up. “Where can we get our window fixed?” he asks me rather than Conor.
Of course, my man answers because he knows what my cousin is up to.
“You’ll get in your car and follow him,” Conor says and gestures to Wyatt. “After I drop Monroe at our place, I’ll be over to explain what happens next.”
Brian Clive looks to me for reassurance. The asshole was willing to smack me around and drag me back to Minton against my will. But no hard feelings, right? We fought all the time, growing up. He doesn’t see today as any different. However, these bikers scare the shit out of him. I look back at Lowell and the other men glaring at my cousins. Yeah, I get why he’s worried.
Patting Brian Clive’s shoulder, I look him in the eyes. “Don’t fuck with Conor, and he won’t fuck with you. Not so different from how people act in Minton with your dad. Get twitchy or mouthy and pay the price, right?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
Conor gives Brian Clive one of his famous smiles, where the person isn’t sure if he’s in trouble. “Follow Wyatt to the glass repair shop, and I’ll be over soon.”
My cousins get back in the SUV while I take Needy’s hand and hurry over to Lowell and the other men.
“Conor handled it,” I tell my dad.
“What does that mean?” Bronco asks.
“Ask him. I’m just the honey. I don’t know the details.”
Lowell rolls his eyes while also casually tugging me behind him. “My human shield,” I coo, peeking around his wide shoulder.
“Who are these fucks?” Rooster asks.
“Monroe’s cousins,” Needy answers, probably wondering how the old man couldn’t put two and two together. After all, we were talking pretty loudly, and the road isn’t very wide. Poor Rooster’s hearing is shot.
“Are you hurt?” Lowell asks me despite how I’m clearly unharmed.
“I got punched in the head. Now, I can’t remember how to spell Topanga. Otherwise, I’m fine. It was just the usual kind of wrestling we did in Minton.”
“You’re such a fucking tomboy,” he says, pretending to be irritated.
“Is Amity okay?” I ask, and my good mood fails. “She was so scared.”
“She’s at the Overlook, I’m sure. It’s locked down along with the Woodlands.”
“I’m sorry,” I say as he glances back at me.
“No reason to be.”
“Carry a gun from now on,” Bronco grumbles and walks over to where Conor and Wyatt talk.
“I will,” I tell Lowell quietly, “but I don’t think I could have shot my cousins. Maybe in the foot or something, but I can’t kill people I care about. And deep, deep, deep inside, I think I care more for those two meatheads than I let on.”
Needy frowns. “Shooting them in the foot would have been good. I want a gun, too.”
While Rooster explains the best guns for women's tiny hands, I watch Conor and hope he knows I’m watching him. He felt alone for too long. Does he know I’ll always keep his heart safe?
The moment he turns to walk to his motorcycle, our gazes meet. Right then, I know he knew I was watching. Conor’s big brain is always aware, and I’m not that subtle.
His slight grin feels so casual. Yet, the way his hands grip me when he plants a kiss on my lips reveals his earlier concern. Conor acts cocky and above it all, but I’m his safe space, and someone nearly stole me away.
CONOR
Though Monroe talks as if she isn’t afraid of her cousins, I catch her hands shaking a few times. Through it all, Needy stays quiet, a
nd I suspect that’s how she survived in Minton. I imagine the women playing their roles within their family, much like I do in mine. So much remains unspoken, yet people instinctively know where they stand.
Right now, Monroe is stuck behind Lowell, who frowns at Needy as if she should have protected their kid better. The blonde acts as blank with him as she did with the rough cousins.
“I’m taking you home,” I tell Monroe and pull her away from her grumpy father. “Who can give Needy a ride?”
“Where are the fuckers staying?” Rooster asks.
“Where we usually put out-of-town people.”
“You mean with Amity at the Overlook?” Lowell asks, losing his temper. “They threatened to kill her.”
“I’ll be there, too,” Needy mentions and hugs Monroe. “Amity can share a beer with the two Clives and get over her fear.”
Lowell rolls his eyes. “That’s bullshit.”
“You’re bullshit,” Needy snaps back.
“Don’t start with me.”
“Don’t give me crap. I didn’t invite the dummies to stay.”
“Hey, now,” Monroe jumps in, thinking I’m being criticized for offering an olive branch to the chunks of North Dakota cheese. “You know Uncle Clive is likely to send more assholes here if he feels he’s been disrespected. Conor’s way keeps things friendly. That means an easier divorce with Francis and no more worrying about guys from North Dakota stirring up trouble in Elko.”
“If they come here, they’re getting buried here,” Bronco tells Monroe, who—God bless her—doesn’t roll her eyes despite clearly wanting to.
“Then, they come here and kill someone,” Monroe says calmly. “Then, you have to drive all the fuck up to North Dakota, which ain’t pleasant, trust me. Then, you kill some of his fuckers. Then, he sends more of his assholes to Elko. I think you might have more men than Uncle Clive, so you’ll win. Yet, isn’t Conor’s idea better than spending the holidays wondering if you’ll get shot by the moose-looking fellow at the grocery store?”
Frost (EEMC) Page 25
