Butch (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 3)

by Kylie Hillman

  To date, everything I’ve learned has been small. Trips out of town—the Shamrocks seem to visit the rural city of Emerald a little too often for Serge’s liking. Especially considering it’s smack bang in the middle of Ugly Bastard territory. The packages belonging to the Shamrocks that have built up in Alanah’s garage and stopped her mother from storing her painting supplies in there. Stories about her brother’s bloodied knuckles and occasional black eyes that make her worry about his safety.

  Tiny titbits that add up to a bigger picture.

  The Black Shamrocks MC is putting plans into action that directly threaten the Ugly Bastard’s hold on their turf.

  “All done,” Alanah declares as she comes back into the front yard. Her eyes are wet, a shiny giveaway that she’s trying not to cry. She wrings her fingers and plasters a fake smile on her face. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She waves me away with a flick of her hand.

  I don’t move. “You don’t look fine.”

  Alanah’s face crumbles. Her chin drops to her chest and two fat tears roll down her cheeks. My response is genuine when I step closer to her and hug her lanky body to my short one.

  “My mum’s losing it,” she confesses through her sobs. “Losing the garage as her safe space has pushed her over the edge. She’s muttering about Carly’s ghost coming to get her and I can’t get her to stop obsessing about it. I tried to ring my dad, but he didn’t answer. Brian’s nowhere to be found. They’ve left me all alone to deal with her.”

  The blood in my veins turned to ice with her mention of Carly. My body stiffens, although I don’t think Alanah notices. She’s lost in her mum’s problems.

  It might be a coincidence—different Carly’s since it is a common name.

  I don’t think so.

  Something tells me that the ghost Alanah’s mum is afraid of is the same ghost that mopes around my house and steals all my brother’s attention.

  “Would it help to talk about it?” I ask.

  Alanah nods. I lead her to the gutter at the front of her house and we sit on the concrete verge next to each other. Our bodies are so close together that I can feel her shaking.

  “Why would your mum think a ghost is haunting her?” I decide it’s time to get as many details as I can while the opportunity has presented itself.

  She wipes her face with the bottom of her school dress and peers at the road beneath her feet.

  “I’m not supposed to know that my dad had an affair with some woman name Carly,” Alanah tells me after a definitive pause. “But their arguments were too loud to escape. Dad swears Carly ran away because he had a wife, but my mother always accuses him of killing her whenever her mood starts to spiral low or she goes off her meds without us knowing. It’s stupid. I’m sure this woman left my father after she discovered he was married. I’m sure she’s alive. I can’t imagine him hurting any woman, let alone one he loved.”

  Holy crap. She has to be talking about my Carly.

  Alanah starts crying again. I try my hardest to offer the sympathy that a real friend would. Patting her shoulder and murmuring the appropriate platitudes is hard when my insides are all topsy-turvy from the information Alanah just dumped on me.

  This is huge and it answers a lot of the questions I have about Carly’s strange arrival at the Ugly Bastards clubhouse. She was in love with a Black Shamrock and it turned violent. The night she turned up was horrific. She was bleeding; beaten to a pulp. Half out of her mind. Desperate for rescue.

  My brother had stepped up when she needed him and negotiated her asylum with the club.

  Now, I wonder if Serge knows the whole truth?

  My chance to pry further is ruined by a Harley racing up the road. The motorcycle comes to an abrupt stop in front of us, the heat from the engine flowing over us in waves. Two more bikes squeal to a stop behind it and a white van rushes past, tooting its horn as it goes.

  It looks like some sort of emergency is going down.

  Alanah gets to her feet and approaches the first bike. The tall, brown haired man wipes the tears from her face and gives her a one-armed hug. I watch them together. They are completely comfortable with each other—a fact that has gusts of hostility pulsing from the other two riders.

  I inspect their faces, identifying them straightaway. The one closest to me is Brian, Alanah’s brother, and the other is Patrick O’Brien. The son of the Black Shamrocks MC’s President silently observes me with a leer on his handsome face. I deliberately ignore him and turn my attention back to Alanah and the boy I’ve decided must be Vic.

  “Come on,” Brian shouts over the thumping engines. “Colleen’s in labour. We need to be there to support Cole.”

  Alanah’s upset disappears instantly. She grins wide and races over to her brother.

  “Oh, my God,” she exclaims. “Can you take me with you?”

  Brian shakes his head. “Ava’s coming with Grace. She’s going to bring you with her.”

  “Okay,” Alanah sounds disappointed, but she accepts his decree without argument. The Ava he speaks of is the wife of the Shamrocks Sergeant at Arms, if I’m remembering correctly. A formidable woman, Serge labelled her as a person to keep an eye on since she has her husband’s counsel and an incredibly insightful and calculating mind. “I guess, I’ll see you there then?”

  “You will,” he says, glancing in my direction.

  Vic is the first to ride off. He gives Alanah a look that I recognise because I see Serge regard Carly in the same way every day. He wants to fix whatever it is that’s made her cry and it kills him that he can’t. Paddy O’Brien follows him next, the expression on his face sending a shiver of foreboding the length of my spine. Just looking at him has my nerve endings jangling.

  He’s evil and he believes that Alanah is his.

  Brian doesn’t follow straightaway. Instead he rocks back and forth on his feet, his Harley moving a few inches with his movements. Alanah peers at him, lifting an eyebrow when he doesn’t meet her eyes.

  “Anita,” Brian addresses me in that deep voice of his that I like so much. “Long time; no see.”

  That’s not necessarily true. I see him two or three times a week when he ferries Alanah to and from school. We always make eye contact, but we never speak. The kiss he blew me on that first day has never been repeated, not that I look every time he leaves just in case.

  I’m not that desperate.

  Truly.

  “Brian,” I try my hardest to keep my tone free from animosity… or any other emotion at all. “Nice to see you again.”

  Alanah is watching us like a hawk. I can feel her gaze burning the side of my face. Grabbing my school bag from behind me, I stand and dust the backside of my dress with both hands. My friend smiles at me when I approach her, and I see the path her mind is travelling.

  It’s not one I want to encourage.

  “Tell him about your mum,” I whisper to Alanah when I give her a quick hug goodbye. I don’t know why I offer her that particular piece of advice, however it seems to drag her back to the here and now and away from any strange inklings she may be having about me and Brian.

  “I will,” she replies. “Thank you for being here today.”

  “Any time,” I promise.

  Guilt tries to drag me into its mire until I shake it off as the realisation dawns that it’s the truth. No matter my reasons for being here, I have genuine affection for Alanah Kelly. If my brother has sent me into the Black Shamrocks MC’s world for the reasons I think, I’m hopeful that I might salvage our friendship in the fall out that’s to come.

  Me and Alanah both want out of our current lives. She wants to be a criminal lawyer. I want to be a forensic scientist. Neither of us fit the Biker Princess mould we’ve been thrust into, and that gives me hope that our bond will transcend the interplay between our individual biker clubs.

  “Brian.” I enjoy the way his name rolls from my tongue, then chide myself
for being so stupid. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  The look he shoots me reheats my blood, thawing the frost created by Alanah’s confession. Something flutters in my stomach and I drop his green gaze and walk off down the road before he finishes speaking.

  “You can bet you will,” he promises.

  My senses are on high alert as I head off. My ears strain for the sound of his Harley, every synapsis in my body twangs from the tension his delay in leaving Alanah sets off inside me.

  When I hear his engine rev, I vow that I will keep my gaze off him when he passes.

  I try to follow through. I really do.

  In the end, I fail.

  Brian rides past, slowing as he does.

  I look at him.

  He meets my eyes—emerald-green versus chocolate-brown. Black Shamrock versus Ugly Bastard.

  He blows me a kiss.

  The tension flees my body.

  The fluttering in my tummy picks up pace.

  I smile, rather stupidly since he can’t see it, and follow his leather-clad form with my eyes until he’s no longer in sight.

  Holy crap.

  Put a fork in me.

  I’m done.

  ELEVEN

  Brian

  I catch up with the other guys as they run into the hospital behind Cole. He’s carrying Colleen. She alternates between screaming and groaning. Every time she makes a sound, my heart jumps into my throat.

  It blows my mind that Cole’s about to become a father. It was hard enough watching him get married three months ago. Not because I dislike Colleen. I don’t. She’s perfect for Cole. What’s hard to wrap my head around is the fact we’re not even twenty yet.

  Kids change everything.

  Life shouldn’t be this complicated when we’re this young.

  Although, I will admit that I haven’t heard one complaint from Cole.

  Maybe it’s just me then?

  When the nurse on the emergency desk turns out to be a biker-hating shrew, I play my part and back up the boys so we can get Colleen the help she needs. All the while, Anita invades my mind and taunts me.

  Talking to her today has stirred up the silly thoughts I had about her a few months ago and it’s fucking with my mind. Something about her makes me view her as a peer, even though I’m well aware that she’s only a few months older than my little sister. The reaction my body has to her is wrong. I should be locked up for looking at her as anything more than Alanah’s friend, yet every time I see her, it happens.

  We pass like two ships in the night, at least three times a week. She pretends she can’t see me, and I pretend I don’t notice how beautiful she is. I know she’s special—she has to be for Alanah to be so friendly with her. I know I should stay as far away from her as possible—my sister needs every friend she can get in this cruel world. I know she’s hiding something behind those big, brown eyes—Alanah has mentioned Anita’s reticence to open all the way up a few times now.

  I know. I know. I know.

  But I can’t stop myself from dreaming.

  “What’s going on here?”

  I’ve been playing my part in this fiasco on autopilot. I vaguely remember challenging the security guards the nurse called on us and watching Paddy sacrifice himself to the guards and their batons so me and Vic could concentrate on keeping Cole calm, but aside from that I’m at a loss.

  Anita has consumed me.

  Now, there’s a cop here, asking questions, and I don’t have a firm grasp on what’s going on.

  It all hits me when I see Shari standing next to him. Without conscious thought, my top lip curls into a snarl and I shoot her a dark look before I dismiss her with my eyes.

  We’ve been broken up since the evening Paddy laid his plan to oust Vic and his father on me and knocked my world sideways on its axis. The parting hadn’t been mutual, and it had come as a surprise to me. I’d done my best to keep it from my friends, spending nights by myself when they were with their girlfriends and dodging their questions about my relationship whenever they asked.

  Keeping up the ruse had been tiring, but I wasn’t about to tell them the truth.

  No amount of money on Earth could have induced me to tell them what she did to me. Seeing her now brings it all back and the pain she caused hits me right in the heart.

  I didn’t love her—then or now. I knew she didn’t love me either. I guess, I expected the same level of respect that I gave her and when she failed to measure up, I’d let her disregard feed my insecurities.

  Catching your girlfriend fucking three guys at once will do that to a man.

  Having her sling the backyard abortion she’d had two weeks before in your face had rubbed salt in the wound.

  Listening to them all laugh at me was the sour icing on my bitter as fuck cake.

  Now, I hadn’t wanted to be a father, but I would have stepped up if given the opportunity. My father has his faults—the affair with Carly, the way he puts my mum’s needs before me and Alanah—however he raised me right. If I fuck up, I take responsibility for it.

  I would never have left Shari to deal with a baby on her own.

  Unfortunately, she took the decision out of my hands then held it over my head like a guillotine when it suited her.

  “Well? I’m waiting,” the cop asks again.

  “Colleen’s in labour so we brought her to emergency,” Vic replies with a hint of smartarse in his voice. “The nurse called security on us and that led us to where we are now.”

  “Is that correct?” The nurse he directs his question toward turns red.

  He narrows his eyes when she doesn’t answer straightaway, and she whimpers.

  Bully for her. I have zero sympathy after the way she’s treated Cole and Colleen.

  “Yea-yes, that’s correct,” the nurse finally replies. “But they were running at me and I thought—”

  “I don’t care what you thought,” the cop cuts her off. He gestures at Cole. “This young couple have come here seeking assistance and you’ve treated them deplorably. Instead of offering me your excuses, I think it fitting that you apologise and see how you can help. That is your job, is it not?”

  Shari’s father might not be as bad as she made him out to be. Wouldn’t be the first lie she’s told, seeing as she never managed to mention that he was a cop in the first place.

  “Can you follow me, sir,” the nurse stammers, touching Cole’s arm. “I’ll find a bed for your girlfriend—”

  “Wife,” Cole interjects.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” the nurse says.

  Colleen’s water breaks all over Cole and the floor and the nurse finally does her job and leads them out of the waiting room.

  “Now that’s out of the way.” The man I’m still assuming is Shari’s father breaks the silence. “We should find somewhere comfortable. If Colleen’s first labour is anything like my wife’s, we could be here for a while.”

  Shari shifts on the spot and I pin her with my eyes. She stops moving, trying to shrink in on herself to hide from me. Her reaction has caught Paddy’s attention. I brace for what’s about to happen next.

  “Who the hell are you?” he asks.

  “I’m Sergeant Lucian,” the cop replies.

  “Yeah?’ Paddy asks. “And that means?”

  “I’m Shari’s father. We’ve known Colleen since she was six months old.”

  With my suspicions confirmed, I glare harder at Shari. I hate her. She’s beyond a bitch. She’s a fucking danger. A danger to me and to the Shamrocks—a danger that I brought around my club because I trusted her word when she said her father was a control freak who worked as a real estate agent.

  “You have a seriously thick hide showing up here?” Vic snaps.

  Sergeant Lucian meets his eyes and nods. “Yes, I do.”

  “Is this the douchebag who tried to ban the girls from seeing Colleen?” Paddy asks. He had wandered off in search of food, but he returned as soon as Vic threw down the gauntlet.

&nbs
p; I snort. “Sure is. Although, someone neglected to mention that her big meanie of a daddy was a cop to boot.”

  The cop doesn’t take me insulting his daughter without rebuke. He smirks at us then throws his hat in the ring. “I’m sure Leonard O’Brien, Francis Kelly, Quinn Blake, and even Amos Kennedy in his soberer moments, already identified the risk and put the appropriate checks and balances in place. That’s not something they’d leave to the whims of a quartet of brand-new foot soldiers.”

  My hands ball into fists and I narrow my eyes at him. Paddy leans back against the closest wall. Vic pulls himself up to his full height and watches me and Paddy for signs that this is about to kick off.

  We exchange a few more dirty looks. I’m ready to rumble. The cop doesn’t seem that way inclined.

  Apparently, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree in that family. His daughter is a master of silent, passive aggressive warfare that she never backs up with action as well.

  Our fathers arrive just in time. They pile into the waiting room, turning the atmosphere heavy with expectation.

  Vic volleys an insult that I don’t quite hear in the cop’s direction. Sergeant Lucian breaks eye contact with me and flicks a hesitant glance over his shoulder. He shepherds Shari away from the rest of us and settles her into a seat near the wall. Taking the seat next to her, he effectively boxes her in and separates her from the big, bad, bikers in the room.

  If only he knew how much she liked to ride with me when it suited her.

  I’d love to be a fly on that wall for that discussion.

  “What’s the status?” Prez addresses Paddy.

  “Haven’t a clue,” Paddy tells his dad. “Fucking nurse called security on us and it almost went to shit until the cop over there made her see sense.”

  Me and Vic nod our agreement. The older men glance in the direction Paddy pointed and they all smile.

  “Salvatore Lucian,” my dad greets Shari’s father like he’s a long-lost friend. “Fancy finding your arse here. How long’s it been? Ten, twelve years?”