by Addy Archer
Dammit, shouldn’t I be the one comforting him? Two-way street, right? I rise on my tiptoes and quickly feather my lips against his. “I’ll be right here.”
He cups my face and places a tender kiss on my forehead. “Yeah, you will be,” he murmurs before he stalks out of the kitchen.
C H A P T E R E L E V E N
~ H U N T ~
Alaric begins pacing the room the minute he locked us inside church. I lean against the table with my arms crossed over of my chest. I’ve known him for years, and when shit gets rough, he needs to process inside his head before he’s able to throw out his rage. Then, and only then, are we able to talk things through the normal way.
So, I wait. And I have to say I would probably be on the same ledge as him if I knew all the information he has, but I don’t yet. What I do know is the fact my old lady admitted to loving my kid. My fucking kid. The one who never knew a mother’s love, and I’m damn well thrilled. I don’t care if she loves me. Sure, I care, but this is a whole other level of need I can give my daughter.
Unreplaceable and the shit you can’t buy with money or anything else. It has to happen naturally and be freely given. My daughter built it up herself. Fuck. Peyton’s mother also helped, and that right there makes it even more of a special connection between all of us.
“Are you hearing what I’m sayin’?” Alaric bellows as he stands in front of me.
Shit. I push away from the table and give him my undivided attention. “Clearly, I didn’t. Can you take it from the top?”
“I said—” Alaric grinds his teeth but starts to spit out his words in anger. “—that fucking asshole Romero was two-timing everyone. He was a DEA informant but told them the cartel had kidnapped the MC’s daughter. All while, he had her stashed underneath his own damn house.”
“But her father had handed her over.”
“Yeah, he made no mention of Trigger Pull MC’s president making a deal with the cartel. But listen here, the DEA has been following Trigger Pull MC’s every move for months and have enough evidence to lock up over half of those bikers. Stone has been speaking the truth. That DEA fucker told me Stone is so far out of the loop, he doesn’t have any clue why the guy is a VP because they have someone else listed as the president’s right-hand man.”
“I’m guessing Stone’s father knows he only came along to make sure he could watch out for his sisters,” I surmise.
“It’s clear Stone’s father doesn’t trust him. And this Alejandro, drug lord, fucker? He isn’t all he appears to be either. He’s some nephew of a real kingpin. He’s just an outcast, a trying-to-climb-the-ladder footboy setting up here in Nevada. A fucking nobody who needs to be squashed. Oh, and get this, the DEA wants to work with us but can’t guarantee shit. They’re fine with bringing down the others, but we might get tangled with it too. Fucking great.”
Alaric stalks to his chair and lets his body sink in it. I stroll around the table and take my seat. The both of us are silent for a few breaths to let everything that’s just been said roam freely inside our head.
“Does the DEA know we’re the ones who took care of Romero?” I question.
Alaric shakes his head. “Nah. I mentioned to Bruno’s contact, a dude named Gabriel Barnells, how we were at his house to question Romero about the whore problem he sent our way. I told Gabriel Romero wasn’t there, but we found the girl and decided to shoot up the place as some form of warning. According to the DEA’s intel, Romero was already missing before we were at the man’s house. However, Gabriel was surprised about the woman. Not so surprised when I told him the father pawned off his daughters, though.”
“This ain’t so bad, Pres,” I say. “We always handle our own shit, and we might have the DEA luring over our backs this time, but they know we’re trying to fix this thing. We reached out. It might be a risk with them pulling us in too and, fuck, maybe locking us up along with it. But, come on, we’re all at risk now. Do I need to remind you how we found Lexi? With what that DEA agent told you, Alejandro is an outcast too. Building up stuff all on his own. No backfire there if we take him and his crew out. I have my daughter and my old lady to look out for, man. I’d rather be in jail or expel my last breath knowing they are safe and those fuckers are taken care of.”
For damn sure I will do everything I can to keep breathing, but if I had to choose between my girls or me? Yeah, no fucking hesitation; they come first.
Alaric rubs his hand over his face. “When does shit stop being complicated?”
“When we’re dead and gone, Pres. But where’s the fun in that?” I shoot him a grin, and he shakes his head in return.
“So, you think we should do this? The DEA suggested a place. But again, no damn guarantee from their side about our future or any help for that matter. You really want to set up a meeting somewhere out of the city and have the cartel and Trigger Pull MC face us to clear shit up? Let the DEA know we’re doing this, and they can watch from a distance until we can hand them all over on a silver platter?”
I lean back in my chair. “You make it sound easy. I was thinking about having a few die in the line of fire. You know, self-defense and all.”
Alaric pins me with his gaze. “You really wanna balance between life, death, and jail time?”
“I’ve always been an all-or-nothing kinda guy. And for sure as fuck I’m not going to wait till that cartel fucker thinks he has the rights to my woman. Or, fuck, knows she’s pregnant but promised to him so she ends up like Lexi. Not going to happen,” I growl, anger lacing each word.
Alaric slams his hand flat on the table in front of me. “Then let’s end this shit.”
“You gonna reach out to Peyton’s father yourself? Have him contact Alejandro?” I question.
“Nah, I don’t trust the fucker. I’m going to spin this shit around. I’m going to reach out to Alejandro and make sure he brings the MC with him. You can let Peyton text her brother, let him know something’s up. But he’s going in blind because we can’t say shit. And if the cartel accepts my invitation, things are going down tonight. No need to drag this out for days or have them forge a plan against us. Everything needs to happen within a few hours from now.”
“Agreed,” I growl, understanding what risks we’re taking by doing this.
“Go round everyone up. Make sure they’re packing. Close the door behind you so I can make the calls.”
I give Alaric a nod and do as he says. When I’ve informed everyone, I find my way into the kitchen and see both Angie and Peyton sitting at the table leaning close and wrapped in a hushed discussion.
“Everything okay in here?” I ask.
Both heads turn my way. Angie nods, and Peyton gives me an easy smile.
“We need to head out soon. Alaric is setting up a meeting. Stay put, and I’ll let you know when we’re leaving, okay?” Both women nod at my words.
The chicks we had hanging around here for entertainment purposes are clingy as fuck. Always need to be told shit twice or three times, as if they don’t want to hear or listen but do what they want. Yet these two? This is what makes an old lady—respect, loyalty, and understanding. There is no room for personal need.
It’s for this reason I do give into my personal need. “I want your mouth on mine,” I demand and stalk right up to my woman.
I slide my fingers into her hair to tip her head back and take her lips in a hot kiss. Damn shame I have to end it all too soon, but there’s a lot to do before we leave.
My mouth regretfully leaves hers. “Stay with Angie, okay?”
“Okay,” she breathes, and my cock twitches from the load of longing the single word carries.
I spin on my heels and stalk out of the kitchen as I hear Angie tell Peyton, “That was hot.” Peyton’s reply of “Yeah” is so much more than a word when I hear the longing in her voice.
The danger and the risks ahead of me with the cartel and the other MC should make fear run through me, and yet it’s anticipation—the certainty of dealing with a mess
I will clean up to clear the road for a brand-new future.
When I have my weapons strapped to my body, I return to church and lean against the wall next to the closed door, giving Alaric time to finish his calls. Seems he’s done when the door swings open. The anger in his eyes and the hint of worry when his gaze hits mine suddenly puts me on edge.
“What’s with the fucking worry on your face, man?” I snap, not understanding why he’s acting this way.
“Go get Peyton. She needs to hear this too,” Alaric snaps back.
It takes a minute or two for me to stalk to the kitchen and back with Peyton trailing behind me. Alaric closes the door when we’re both inside church, and he leans back against it as if he needs to block the exit.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my chest rising and falling while I try like fuck to keep my anger in check.
I’m not understanding one damn bit why Peyton needs to be dragged into this…. And then it hits me. “Fuck no. She’s not coming along. You’re not dragging her into this. I just pulled her out. God-fucking-dammit, this is why she needs to be here, right? You damn well know she won’t refuse. What? Did they want both sisters there?” The look on Alaric’s face is all-telling. “No,” I roar.
“We have no choice,” Alaric says apologetically.
“There’s always a fucking choice! We’re Rebel Rage MC for fuck’s sake. We rebel, we fucking rage, and we end this shit without putting my old lady at risk. You hear me? As the fucking VP, I’m telling you we’re leaving the women out of this.”
Delicate fingers slide over my biceps, and I know what she’s trying to do, so I give her some of my anger too. “It’s not going to happen, Peyton. I won’t let you.”
Instead of a pleading face, begging words, fucking tears, I’m staring at her beautiful face that’s painted with one hell of a beaming smile.
“What the fuck are you smiling about?” I growl, my anger still clawing at the surface.
Her hand slides up my chest and settles on my neck. “You. I’m smiling because my old man is standing up to his own president to keep me safe. Not even my own father would. Hell, he’s the one who threw me in the fire in the first place; while you, you’re the one who would carry the sea to extinguish any spark of fire heading my way. So, yes, I’m smiling because of you. Because I’m damn proud to be your old lady, and this, this means more than anything you can ever give me. But, Hunt, you need to think about all of us. Your president is nothing like my father. Look at him. He’s struggling with this as much as you are, but he knows he needs to do what’s right for all of us. If I’m needed to put this to an end, I’ll be there, and we do this together. You hear me? Together.”
My heart is pounding in my chest and in my damn throat. I can’t find the words. She’s staring at me with so much devotion and adoration, I’m at a standstill. Words are lacking because of this whole fucked-up situation. It was so damn clear a moment ago, and now? Fuck.
“Alejandro wants what he was offered to be there at the meeting point. It’s either Harper or Peyton. And we all know Harper can’t even leave her room or have someone else near her except Linc without having a panic attack. But Peyton isn’t going with this fucker or anywhere near him,” Alaric states.
I shake my head. “She’ll be in the fucking line of fire, asshole. I don’t want her anywhere near this meeting.”
“Then the meeting won’t happen. He specifically said that if the woman is not there, then there will be no meeting. To him this is what it’s all was about—to fix the relationship between the MC and to have what was promised.” Alaric rubs a hand over his face. “We need to end this today, Hunt. This shit will drag all of us down. Besides, the DEA said they will watch from a distance.”
“Watch from a fucking distance? Watch?” I spit in disgust. “That’s all those fuckers are willing to give us, right? No promises, no backup, nothing more than the watchful eye of the law locked on us. What good will it do when our blood spills the ground they walk on and bodies are piled up?”
Peyton turns to Alaric. “Did my father’s MC agree to the meet?”
“Yes. They all did. Two hours from now near a barn. It’s remote but has a tiny forest on the side to give good cover. The DEA suggested it, and I think they might have more places to hide, whatever. Point is, the cartel agreed to meet there and so did the MC. They all want this thing settled. Your father’s MC wants a solid tie with the cartel for the drugs and money flow. He thinks the cartel will get what’s promised—a daughter to take as a wife. We want the mess we got in through the whore and Romero to end. We basically have what the cartel wants and what your father promised. To them it’s a fast and easy solution to wipe shit clean and start fresh.”
Peyton nods at Alaric’s words, and the look in her eyes when her head swings my way? I damn well know I can’t resist her. And I know she’s right, but my mind can’t process when I think of her getting into danger.
“Fine.” I sigh. “But I want her wearing a vest and we’re taking Bruno’s bulletproof SUV. She stays inside it. And you make damn sure the DEA knows she’s inside the SUV and is a damn civilian who will need to be pulled out of there when things go to shit. Am I clear?”
“Already arranged, brother,” Alaric tells me. “I called Bruno the second I got off the phone with Alejandro. He will make sure Gabriel, the DEA fucker, knows about it too.”
I should have known he has my back, and I might be overreacting but, fuck. It’s as if life shows you a glimpse of what could be and then makes you throw a damn dice and gamble to have it all or lose everything in the blink of an eye.
“See?” Peyton presses. “We’re doing this together. We can make sure it all ends today. I’ll stay in the car. I promise not to rush out and jump in front of a bullet or anything.”
“I’m not liking this shit,” I snarl, still angry.
“None of us do, Hunt. But we have to think about everyone involved, the bigger picture. Listen to what Alaric said. Both the MC and the cartel thinks this is a settlement to fix ties. All of us will benefit from this meeting. They won’t expect you guys to make sure no one leaves.” Her head turns to Alaric. “Does my brother know all the details?”
Alaric slowly shakes his head. “We can’t risk it. He knows something is coming; he’s smart. A meeting where all parties will be present? He will be aware this is it and shit will go down.”
Fear glimmers in her eyes, and I fucking hate it. “He knows, Peyton. As Alaric said, he’s smart. This is another thing we have up our sleeve to have Stone standing in their midst to take out your father or anyone else near him. Another damn reason you need to keep your ass in the SUV. I don’t want you to see what’s gonna go down.”
All she gives is a wary few nods of her head before she presses her body against mine. Her arms go tight around my waist as I mimic her moves to savor the closeness and comfort the both of us offer each other before all hell breaks loose.
C H A P T E R T W E L V E
~ P E Y T O N ~
“I count fifteen cartel fuckers,” Hunt grumbles. “The guy we caught after he killed Lexi said Alejandro’s gang was only a total of seventeen.”
“Two are missing?” I ask.
Hunt’s eyes hit mine. “No. Alejandro is one. The other was the fucker we tortured to death to get the information out of him.”
“Ah.” I nod in understanding. “So, what you’re saying is everyone is here?”
“Yeah, everyone from Alejandro’s side is. What about your father’s MC?” Hunt questions, and I glance past him to all the bikes parking alongside each other.
“Not all of them. Do you see the three on my father’s left and the other two on his right?” I wait for his slight nod before I add, “Those are the ones who have been with him the longest. From what I’ve heard, those are the ones who are always hanging around my father. I count twelve in total, including my brother and father. I have to say, Hunt, I don’t know who is supporting Stone and who stands behind my father. I’ve been to t
he clubhouse a few times, mostly to see Stone, but I have no clue about who wants this drug money as an income and who doesn’t.”
“For all we know, it’s just Stone who is against all of it, Peyton,” Hunt grumbles as he watches my father like a hawk.
“No,” I tell him with a fierce voice. “The one with the red curly hair next to my brother? They were friends before they became brothers. Red relocated with us. I’m sure he has my brother’s back.”
“My first and only concern is you, my brothers, and your brother, Peyton. And in that exact order. Understood? With you being in this bulletproof SUV, I can focus on putting the club before you. I don’t care about anyone else but will try to protect your brother too, but it might be hard seeing as he will be standing on the opposite side in between the enemy. Every single one of my brothers knows Stone is with us. The DEA is aware and out there somewhere. We don’t know the outcome of this, but if I don’t make it, give me the same promise you gave your mother, babe. I need it.” His voice is loaded with emotion.
Emotion that’s also clogging up my throat. I have no words and can only nod before I throw my arms around his neck and hug him close. He pulls my head back with his fist lodged in my hair and crashes our mouths together. The kiss is fierce, raw, and loaded with the need to show one another what we need and want. This moment. A future. So much more.
Hunt is the first to pull back and connects our foreheads. “Stay in the car.”
“Then make sure you stay alive and I will,” I vow.
The corner of his mouth twitches as he slowly slides out of the SUV. He keeps the door open for a moment to show Alejandro I’m here too before he slams the door shut. My heart is beating in my throat, and I don’t know what’s worse, staying behind in the clubhouse where Angie is sitting or having a front row seat to this confrontation. There’s a headache building behind my right eye, and the turmoil of feelings taking over my body isn’t helping either.
