I nodded, gesturing to my hair. “You can finish now.”
“Oh yeah.” She quickly tied off the French braid she’d done. “All done.”
A low murmur caught my attention and I followed the heads turning until I saw Norah standing uncomfortably in the door. “I was looking for Deacon,” she whispered and the girls stepped back, leaving me facing her.
“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” I suggested, walking toward her as her face crumpled. When I reached her, I braced myself as she leaned against me heavily. I supported her weight, guiding her into the empty bar area. “Norah,” I started when she looked up at me, her eyes desperately begging me not to say the words. “I’m so sorry.” Tears spilled from her eyes as I forced myself to say, “Deacon’s dead.”
Choked sobs erupted from her throat and all I could do was sit beside her as she cried. After a few minutes, there were no more tears left as she hiccupped and I handed her a clean towel from the bar. She mopped her face, her expression lost as she stared at me. “He didn’t come home and he wasn’t answering his phone. I knew he’d went on a run, but he’s not usually that late.”
“I don’t know exactly what happened,” I told her. “I knew he was with Crew and the guys went there.”
She sniffled, looking upwards. “I hope it was an accident, some random stupid thing.” I knew I must look puzzled as she gave me a pitying stare. “If it was club related, there will be a war. Johnny owed Deacon his life, he won’t let his death go unanswered.”
I exhaled, my heart strumming a little faster at the idea of a war breaking out in this little town. My gaze caught on a bottle of whiskey and I reached for it. “You want a glass?” I offered, already pouring it, hoping it would steady me. She shook her head, regret flashing across her face.
“No,” she answered, her hand going to her stomach tellingly. “I’m pregnant.”
The glass hovered by my lips before I slowly lowered it. “That’s good,” I said, a question in my voice.
She nodded, her lips pressed together. “I was going to tell him tonight,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “Why did I wait?” She gulped in air, almost gasping. “Why didn’t I tell him? Now, he’ll never know.”
“He knows,” I assured her, reaching over to hug her, and she clung to me desperately. “He knows and he loves you and this baby. I believe that with every fiber of my being.”
“Why? Just why. I need him,” she cried, tears soaking into my shoulder. “He’s a good man.”
I nodded, not knowing the words that could console her so I just let her cry. The door opened and Weasel ducked his head in, stepping aside to allow Mary inside. He nodded to me before pulling the door shut back behind him, and I realized he was guarding the door.
“Mary,” I whispered and Norah lifted her head.
“It’s a terrible thing,” she murmured, coming to us and wrapping comforting arms around us both. “But together, we’ll weather the storm.”
After a few minutes, I pulled away, prodding Norah. “Come into the kitchen. We’re cooking. Be a part of it with us.” She opened her mouth, refusal written across her face and I stopped her. “We’re your family. You need your family right now.” She nodded slowly, accepting my words, and Mary and I guided her to the kitchen. The low murmur of voices stopped when the women saw us and Mary clapped her hands.
“No rest for the wicked. We’ve got food to prepare.” Her words snapped them out of their reaction and I led Norah to Candy. The girl sitting in front of Candy scrambled from her seat, her hair half done, leaving it open for Norah.
“Sit here,” I told her and she obeyed blindly, her grief still too fresh. “Candy will brush your hair.”
Candy nodded, grabbing a brush and slowly dragging it through Norah’s long dark hair. “I always thought you had the prettiest hair,” she murmured softly, keeping the brush strokes long and smooth. Norah didn’t respond, her gaze blank, but I nodded to Candy to keep going and she smiled in agreement.
Mary was walking around, giving everyone their marching orders and I gave her a soft smile of thanks. When I realized everyone had something to do but me, I went back to the bar. I stared at the amber liquid in the glass for a minute before grabbing it and going to the door.
Weasel glanced over as I stepped out and I offered him the glass. He accepted it with a nod of thanks, downing it in one long swallow.
“Do you think someone will come here?” I asked in the silence. He shrugged.
“I was told to watch over you,” he answered, scratching his nose. “You gathered all the girls around you so that means I watch all of you.”
“What happened to Deacon?”
“I dunno,” he answered with a shake of his head. “I really don’t. Johnny told all the guys to ride. I’m not sure he knew what happened to Deacon when they left.”
“You stayed.”
He set the glass down. “Johnny asked me to stay. I would have anyway cause Creed had already told me you were his priority.”
“I don’t completely understand club politics,” I admitted and he snorted.
“Me either. Johnny and Creed are usually arguing but they always seem to agree on the important stuff.”
“You think there will be a war?” I questioned, still unable to wrap my mind around the idea.
“I’d have said no a minute ago,” Weasel replied as a low rumble reached our ears. “But now you need to get inside.”
“What?” I asked, allowing him to shove me to the door as a line of bikes appeared in the distance. “Is that the guys?”
“No,” he answered sharply, trying to shut the door on me. I snatched at his jacket, tugging him toward the door.
“I don’t think you should be outside if I’m not supposed to be,” I snapped, hauling on him to get him inside. Sudden popping had him diving through the door, slamming it behind him as he pulled me down.
“Is that?”
“Gunfire,” he answered, twitching as he rammed the lock. “Stay down,” he demanded, shoving me as I crawled across the floor, “And get to the back.”
Glass shattered around us as the gun shots came closer and I scrambled toward the kitchen, Weasel right behind me. I wiggled through the door to find the women all hunched down against a wall.
“It’ll be alright,” I called out, lying through my teeth as Weasel slid in next to me, a gun in his hand. “You have another one?” I asked, holding my hand out and he nodded. I glanced over at the women huddled on the ground and asked, “Do you have a bunch more?”
He eyed me but nodded. “Behind the bar, under the floor.”
“Got it,” I answered, slithering through the door and finding where he’d indicated. I gathered as many as I could hold and came back. “Ladies, get your guns,” I commanded curtly. Mary and Candy were the first and they motioned the other women to come. “We will defend ourselves,” I declared and there were a few nods. “I’m not asking,” I said sharply and the few stragglers grabbed a gun. “We will protect the club.”
I pushed the door back open and crawled out. Glass bit under my hands but I kept going. All of the windows were shattered and I could hear them outside. I didn’t know who they were, but there was no way I was letting them hurt any of these women.
I motioned for the girls to spread out, taking cover under tables and next to the walls.
“Stay off our turf,” a voice shouted and I peeked out the window. A guy paced in front of the line of bikes, a glowing cigarette my only indication of where he was because they’d shot out the lights around the bar. “This is your only warning.”
A gun fired and I jerked around since it had come from inside. Norah held the gun up, her face contorted with rage as she stood in front of a window, firing at the men. I dashed to her, knocking her down right as they returned gunfire. A couple of the women along with Weasel fired out the windows and bikes roared to life as they started to leave.
“They’re gone,” Weasel reported as I pushed myself off of Norah. “It was Ac
es.” I shook my head, not knowing what that meant and more worried about Norah.
“What were you thinking?” I shouted at her. “Standing in front of the window, leaving yourself exposed.” Grief twisted her expression and I yanked the gun from her hand. “You have a baby to protect now.”
“I just wanted to be with Deacon,” she murmured brokenly. “I wanted to stop the pain.”
“Not like this,” I whispered hoarsely, shaking my head as I leaned back. “You have to live for his child.”
Sobs wracked her body and I motioned to Weasel. “Help me get her in my room.” We lifted her up, practically carrying her to my room where she collapsed on the bed. “Can we give her something?” I wondered and Mary dropped two pills in my hand. “She’s pregnant,” I told her warily and she nodded.
“This won’t do any more damage than she’d doing to herself right now,” Mary answered as we watched Norah’s body jerk with gasping sobs.
“Okay,” I replied, pulling Norah up and shoving the pills in her mouth. “Swallow,” I ordered and she almost gagged. “Swallow,” I repeated, grabbing water from beside my bed and handing it to her. She managed to take a couple of sips and I released her. She curled into a ball, tears leaking from her eyes. I walked back to Mary. “You think she’ll be okay?”
Mary shook her head. “Time will tell.”
***
The door opening woke me and I sat up, blinking sleepily. Creed came inside, not noticing me as he toed off his boots and yanked his shirt over his head. He turned, freezing when he saw me sitting in his bed.
He pointed to the door. “I just checked on you in your room,” he said, exhaustion lining his face. “You were curled in the blankets.”
“That was Norah,” I explained and he closed his eyes, grief flashing across his face. “She knows.”
He nodded, walking to the bed and sitting next to me. I rested my hand on his back, his skin warm under mine, and he sighed, slumping forward. “I’m glad you’re here, Jailbait.”
I urged him to lay down and he did, pulling me into the curve of his body. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He lifted my hand, twisting it to see the scrapes on my palm. He pulled it to his mouth, kissing the small wounds. “You’re alright?” He confirmed and I nodded, my fingers curling against his jaw. “I went looking for Crew,” he said slowly. “I found them.” He exhaled, his breath puffing against my wrist as he stared up at the ceiling. “Deacon,” his voice broke, “They beat him to death.”
“Oh God,” I whispered, horrified. “Who would do that?”
“Aces,” he answered, turning his head toward mine. “The same guys who came and shot the place up.”
“They beat him to death and then came here?” I verified, staring at him worriedly. “Is this what Norah meant by a war?”
He nodded, his gaze lost. “If we retaliate, it’ll be war.”
“But if they killed Deacon…”
“There’s no way we won’t retaliate,” he answered. “Crew is already pushing for us to move on them.”
“Crew was there?”
“Not exactly.” He looked at me then, “They’d split up to try and divert the guys following them. It worked. They followed Deacon.”
“Why would they beat him to death?”
“Because he was black,” Creed answered with a sigh. “At least that’s my impression from the tag they put on the wall.”
I sucked in a breath, “That’s crazy.”
“It is and Crew feels guilty.”
“For surviving,” I murmured, knowing exactly how that felt.
“Basically, yes. It makes him want revenge. Anything to numb that pain.”
“But you think that would be a mistake,” I said slowly, feeling him out.
“Something about the whole situation stinks.” He turned on his side, facing me. “I don’t want you in the middle of a war, especially one I don’t know is warranted.”
“What does Johnny think?”
“He’s upset,” he replied. “We all are.” He shook his head. “Deacon was the best of us. Level headed, smart, and patient. We lost a good man tonight and I don’t think now is the best time to make a decision that’ll affect the entire club.”
“I don’t understand why they’d come here if they killed Deacon and intentionally left their mark. Wouldn’t that be enough of a warning?”
“What do you mean by warning?”
“That’s what the guy shouted after they’d shot the windows out,” I explained. “He said, ‘Stay off our turf’ and then, ‘This is your only warning.’”
“You’re sure?’
“Yep. I was in the room and heard them clearly. Of course then Norah took a pot shot out the window and things went to hell.”
“They could have killed people shooting out the windows,” Creed reminded me and I shrugged.
“The parking lot was empty and so was the bar. All the women were in the kitchen.” I lightly stroked his jaw, enjoying the rasp of his stubble under my touch. “Maybe they were just sending a warning.”
“Then who killed Deacon and blamed the Aces?”
“Maybe it was an Ace who did it on his own?”
“Maybe,” Creed said quietly, “Maybe.” He tucked me in closer to his body. “Get some sleep, Jailbait. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
***
The next morning, Creed was gone when I woke up so I quickly showered and went to my room to check on Norah. She was still out, pain etched on her face even in sleep, and I was careful to be quiet as I dressed. I refused to disturb what little escape she could find from the pain as I tiptoed out of the room.
Some of the men were already sweeping up the broken glass while others covered the open windows with plywood. I went to the kitchen and found Crew arguing with Clutch.
“We should strike back at them. Now. This waiting is bullshit,” Crew fumed, pacing the floor as Clutch calmly pushed an enormous casserole into the oven.
“Then what?” Clutch asked, tossing the oven mitt on the counter.
“What do you mean then what? They know who they’re messing with,” Crew blustered.
“Okay, so we retaliate and then they retaliate and around and around we go.” Clutch stared at Crew. “Who gets hurt in all of that? Hmmm. Maybe your brother? Or how about Jailbait? They shot up the club last night and she was here, completely defenseless.”
“She got the guns and shot back,” Crew retorted. “She’s tough.”
“And Norah? She’s got a baby on the way. How tough you think she’s going to be? What about Mary?” Clutch stared hard at Crew until he dropped his gaze. “I know you want to get revenge. Trust me, we all do. But you are out of your fucking mind if you think any of us are willing to risk innocent lives without being one hundred percent positive.”
“Deacon deserves,” Crew started to say hotly when I interrupted.
“Deacon deserves to know his family is being taken care of. That his baby will be supported and loved,” I said and he spun around. “You want to honor Deacon?” I questioned, staring at Crew until he nodded. “Then be there for Norah, who is beyond devastated and be there for that little baby who will only ever know their father through the stories you tell.”
I walked forward, stopping when I had to look up to meet Crew’s eyes. “Being a Rebel is not about getting revenge on your enemies, Crew. It’s about being a part of a family that supports one another through thick and thin, through the good times and the bad.” I laid my hand on his chest as I promised, “Whoever hurt Deacon will answer for it, but today and tomorrow and the next day, you need to respect Deacon’s memory. Honor him by being the man he would have been.”
Crew’s expression was impossible to interpret as the door to the kitchen swung open and Weasel popped his head inside. “Chief is outside and he’s fishing for something,” he said in a rush, glancing over his shoulder.
“Get her out,” Clutch ordered Crew, shoving us. “Weasel, stall the Chief and what
ever you do keep him from going round back.” Weasel nodded and disappeared. “Crew,” Clutch said sharply, snapping Crew to attention and he nodded.
“Get Jailbait out,” Crew repeated.
“Yes, take her to your house. The kennels. I’ll come when it’s clear.”
We went to the bar area so we could go out the back but before we took two steps Crew pushed me to the ground. I slammed to the floor, biting back a groan as he landed almost on top of me. I cut him a sideways glance and he gestured to the door as I heard a man say, “A little birdie told me you’re hiding a runaway teen, Johnny.”
“Really? That’s why you’re here, Calvin?” I heard the scrap of a chair against the floor. “My bar gets shot up last night and you’re here looking for a runaway.”
“She’s a minor,” he barked. “Her family is concerned.”
“I’m sure they are,” Johnny replied, sounding relaxed. “Who exactly filed the report on her? Her mommy or daddy?”
“Neither,” the Chief answered briefly. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is there’s an alert out for her and she was said to be seen here.”
“Yep, well, far be it from me to impede an investigation,” Johnny said, his tone sending a chill down my spine and he wasn’t even talking to me. Crew nudged me forward and we crawled to the end of the bar where there was an open section so waitresses could go back and forth. We paused there as we heard Johnny say, “Shall we go to the kitchen first or the back?”
“The kitchen,” the Chief answered, his tread heavy on the wooden floor. Crew’s mouth moved as he counted off the Chief’s steps and then shoved me forward.
“Go,” he hissed and I scrambled forward, catching Johnny’s eye for a bare second before I raced down the hall. His gaze had held a warning and I jerked to a stop in front of my room. “What are you doing?” Crew demanded as I darted into my room. I snagged my backpack without answering, pulling the door shut behind me. He hustled me forward, turning the corner just as we heard Johnny’s voice. “Creed’s room,” he said, covering my back. I didn’t question him as I slipped into Creed’s room.
“Hayes,” the Chief barked and I froze for a second, staring at the door. Crew’s hand appeared, his finger pointing to the window before the door clicked shut. I raced to the window, shoving at it as my backpack slipped down my shoulder. I grunted, pushing harder, when the window suddenly slid up.
Jailbait (Southern Rebels MC Book 1) Page 21