His shoulders relaxed, and he nodded. “No, you’re right. Just seems like they were right under my nose the entire time… maybe I just didn’t look hard enough. Sorry, Pres.” He turned back to Slim. “And you too, I guess.”
Slim’s nostrils flared as he panted, murder written all over his face. “Yeah, thanks for that, fucker.”
“I’m only goin’ to ask this once, but what the fuck happened here?” I sighed, trying to distract the two of them from thoughts of killing each other.
I knew what it looked like, but a small part of me still refused to accept it.
The grin returned to Comedian’s face. “Asshole tried to jump my boy. Solid uppercut and the kid went down. One and done… I taught him that.”
As if on autopilot, I climbed up onto the tailgate. A trail of dried blood ran from the kid’s ears, nose, and mouth. I doubted they could’ve saved him even if they’d tried.
The countless times I’d lost sleep worrying about keeping Mikey safe had been for nothing. He could’ve been raised in a fucking convent.
It wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.
Comedian might’ve been the monster in front of him, but I’d always been the threat. The evil that lived in me had been passed onto my son, settling into his soul and taking root.
I took one last look at the kid’s face before hopping down onto the asphalt with clenched teeth. “Where’d it happen? We need to take care of the vehicle… check for security cameras—anything that could lead the cops back to Mikey, or David for that matter.”
Slim agreed. “They’ve got their whole lives ahead of ‘em. Comedian?”
He slammed the tailgate shut, still grinning. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll fix this right up for our boys. Kid’s car is at Captain’s Quarters, the old strip club just back that way.” He pointed behind us.
“You know what’s funny? Betsy was always spouting off nature and nurture bullshit when Mikey was a kid. Said that genetics were stronger than environment. I taught him how to defend himself though… me; not his mother’s weak genes. I made him a man.”
There was so much pride in his voice that it was easy to overlook the fact that everything he was saying was complete horse shit.
Slim watched me closely as we climbed back onto our bikes, no doubt seeing me for what I really was; what I’d always been.
A fuck up.
The bright yellow Jeep abandoned in the deserted parking lot of a boarded-up strip club might as well have had a flashing neon sign above it with as much attention as it was going to get come morning. The three prospects we’d brought with us sat with their bikes idling around it, like guard dogs.
Knowing what was at stake, I pushed my grief down and slipped into my more familiar role as Pres. “Slim, call Chop and make that vehicle disappear. Tell him I’ll pay double if it’s broken down before daylight.”
“Grey,” he began. “Are you—”
“In a fuckin’ hurry?” I snapped. “Little bit, yeah. Call Bear. I need every man here right now. These prospects ain’t gonna cut it.”
When he made no attempt to move, I added, “Or call Lou and tell her she’ll be makin’ weekend trips to Gatesville to talk to David through plexiglass. Your choice.”
He yanked the cell phone from his pocket with a curse and stomped back toward his bike.
Comedian scanned the empty lot before pointing up toward the single light pole. “Camera. If they got one there, there’s bound to be more.”
I nodded. “Slim’s callin’ everyone in. We’re gonna need a boat and a place to break down the body.”
“Leave that to me. Really appreciate you doin’ this for my boy. I know he ain’t a patch—”
He wasn’t.
It wasn’t a life I’d ever wanted for him, but this changed things. Wolverine had seen what I was the night I sent Donald to the Reaper; he’d known that I needed to be controlled.
Same as Mikey.
I came back to the conversation as Comedian threw in, “If we get inside the club, should be a way to wipe the surveillance.”
“No.”
He cocked his head to the side and glared at me with cold eyes. “No? The fuck you suggest we do then? We have to destroy those tapes. You wanna call Torch in to burn the place to the ground? What’s your plan?”
I’d lost Celia and the girls because I hadn’t held on tight enough. Mikey would either end up dead or in prison if I didn’t hold on with both hands.
The poison that flowed through my veins ran through his. I’d created the monster, and it was my responsibility to keep it in chains.
I wasn’t willing to lose another person I loved.
God help me, I knew what I had to do.
“You work on gettin’ that boat. I’ll take care of the tapes.”
His lips pulled back as if he was about to question my orders when Chop’s crew pulled up.
“Right on time,” Slim said, by way of greeting, as he ended a call. “You know the arrangement. Nothing left that can be traced back to us.”
Comedian snagged one of the prospect’s bikes, kicking up stray rocks on his way out. Slim was still deep in conversation with Chop’s crew over by the kid’s vehicle and didn’t notice me digging in my saddlebag.
I climbed into the bed of the truck, taking advantage of their momentary distraction. The shutter on the camera clicked, bringing with it a sense of peace.
This wasn’t about getting him into a kutte.
Just like Wolverine, I wouldn’t force this life on anybody. Still, it didn’t mean I wouldn’t do for him what the club had done for me.
Once upon a time, I’d vowed to keep him safe. Now, more than ever before, Mikey needed me to uphold my end. Whatever the cost, we’d face his demons and find a way to control them.
Together.
Chapter Seven
Grey: 2001
“Told him I’d vouch for him and everything,” Comedian slurred before falling back against the couch cushions. “With the two of us, club can’t lose.”
I stayed silent and knocked the bottle of tequila back, welcoming the burn as it slid down my throat. We’d been laying low just outside of Lajitas—in a clubhouse that straddled the border. After dumping the kid’s remains out in the ocean, we rode out, just as the feds moved in and began combing every grain of sand on the beaches.
I’d planned to go back once shit died down and tell Mikey the truth.
About all of it.
Unfortunately, Comedian had gotten there first. His offer to wipe the surveillance tapes that night hadn’t been some half-assed attempt at being a good father.
It was leverage.
I should’ve known that he was up to something when he secured a boat in record time and insisted again on being the one to erase the footage. I agreed because, by that time, the shock had set in. My only thought was on how to protect Mikey moving forward.
The pictures were meant to be a way to keep him in check, a visual reminder of what could happen if the monster was unleashed on the wrong people.
When I found the videotapes, I realized that Comedian was never going to let Mikey move on. He was going to take my son’s mistake and exploit it for his own gain.
Keeping a tight hold on the neck of the tequila bottle, I stumbled outside and away from the sounds of celebration. I was going to be forced to watch my son walk down the same path that I had.
There was no victory in that.
It was just another reminder that I’d failed.
I slipped around to the side of the clubhouse and into the shadows before retrieving the plastic bag from my pocket. Slim had warned me to quit using, said it fucked with my judgment, but being sober hadn’t done me any real favors lately either.
“Thought I might find you out here.”
I dropped the bottle into the dirt and took a bump before responding. “It’s like you just know to go where you’re not wanted, Betsy.”
There was enough moonlight coming through the trees overhead for me to see he
r lips as they pushed into a pout. “C’mon, Grey. Don’t be like that. I wanted to thank you for helping Mikey out—”
I ignored her praise, fighting the urge to send the entire bag up my nose. Instead, I settled for another hit. “This what you want for him? Goin’ nowhere but hell?”
Pain flashed in her eyes, and she looked away. “I want him to have a choice, the same as you, but—”
“But what? How’s he doin’ with all this? Does he—is he—” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Is he like me?”
Her eyebrows moved together as she frowned. “I don’t know what you mean. What’s wrong with you?”
It took me by surprise. Either she hadn’t been paying attention over the years or living with Comedian had completely fucked her sense of good and evil.
“I’m a killer, Betsy,” I bit out slowly. “A fuckin’ monster. So, I’ll ask again; is our boy like me?”
She took a hesitant step back, eyes darting side to side, searching for a way out of the conversation. “Mike—he’s a good kid. You and I both know that he didn’t mean to kill that boy. And despite what Comedian thinks, he doesn’t want a patch.”
My throat, still raw from the liquor, tightened at the admission. “What does he want?”
“To go into law enforcement.”
In spite of the situation, my lips curved up into a smirk, and I chuckled.
“I’m serious, Grey,” she said quietly. “Maybe he was scared straight or something… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter now, though, does it? Michael said he made his choice when he took a life. In by blood, out by blood.”
My smile faded. “Don’t recite the goddamn club mantra to me; I’m still the Pres. I call the shots, and I decide who wears the patch and who doesn’t.”
If we put it to a vote, the other members would probably be more than happy to see Sullivan’s boy patch in. I just had to keep it from coming to that.
Instead of backing down, she jutted her chin up at me, looking so much like Celia that it knocked the air from my lungs. I cut the distance between us and took her face in my hands before the rational part of my brain reminded me that the woman in front of me wasn’t fit to wipe my wife’s ass.
I released her and backed away while she watched in amusement. “Still trying to run from this, after all these years. Why? We were good together once—”
The blow and tequila were playing tricks on me, forcing me to see Celia’s face everywhere I looked. I raked my hands through my hair in frustration. “Once was bad enough. I’m Celia’s—from now until I take my last breath. What part of that ain’t stuck yet? Jesus, you really did fuck away all your sense—”
Her palm cracked across the side of my face, and I clenched my hands into fists, aching to retaliate.
“Why? Why her, Grey? You’ve been saving yourself for a woman who didn’t waste any time moving on when she thought you were dead. She’s not some saint; why can’t you see that?”
I planted my palm against her chest and shoved, sending her stumbling back. “And you are?” I snarled. “You don’t know a fuckin’ thing when it comes to her.”
Betsy straightened and stalked back toward me triumphantly. “Really? At least I stayed celibate for my man; even when we were apart.”
With a hiss, I leaned in again. “Are you not counting all the times you threw yourself at me the minute his back was turned? You know he ain’t ever been faithful to you—”
“I know she had another man’s baby in her belly the night she was beaten,” she cut me off with a vicious smirk.
I fought to get air into my lungs before carefully asking, “Where’d you hear that?”
It wasn’t true.
This was just another way for her to manipulate me. The only trouble was that her old man had gotten to Celia long before I had. If anyone knew what really went down, it was him.
She mashed her lips together before admitting, “He was drunk; said he didn’t realize there would be so much blood. Look, I’m sorry that it happened to her. No one deserves what she went through.”
“Blood?” Every muscle in my body contracted, leaving me vibrating with tension.
Betsy nodded. “From the miscarriage. I guess she wasn’t that far along… maybe a few weeks. I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you—I thought you knew.”
You want a baby, princess?
The blood on her robe.
“Jesus, fuck,” I muttered to myself. Despite what Betsy thought, it hadn’t been another man’s baby in Celia’s belly.
It had been mine.
There was a reason things had felt strangely familiar that night; because, I was right. I’d been through it before.
Just not with Celia.
The reality of the situation barreled through me, and I let out a low growl before storming into the clubhouse with Betsy right on my heels.
“Grey—he said not to—”
“Comedian!” I roared over the music and drunk bikers, the vein in my forehead throbbing to the point of rupturing. I didn’t want to believe that my men would keep something like that from me.
The clubhouse fell silent, magnifying the sounds of my ragged breaths. Comedian stood up slowly, keeping a hand on the gun at his hip. “Pres, everything okay?”
“Did you know?”
He looked past me to Betsy, confirming the truth as the color drained from his face. “Shit. Grey, I can explain—”
My eyes stung, and I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep my emotions from spilling onto my cheeks. “You—you knew she was pregnant?” My tone betrayed me; giving away the helplessness I’d tried so hard to hide.
Bear stepped into view, staring daggers down at Comedian. “Pres asked you a question; it’d be in your best interest to answer.”
“We did what we could for her, but it was too late. She asked us not to tell you; said with what happened to your ma—”
His words dealt a death blow to my heart, but I refused to break down in a room full of bikers. I ran my tongue over my trembling lip with a smirk. “See, that’s funny. I could’ve sworn you rode in my club. Bear, ain’t that the way it’s always been?”
“Pretty sure it is, Pres.”
I nodded. “And since when did we discuss club business with Ol’ Ladies, Bear?”
“Since never,” he replied icily. “The shit that went down with Grey’s Ol’ Lady shoulda never crossed your tongue, Comedian.”
“But she was knocked up by another man!” Betsy snapped. “Who cares who he told? Just focus on what really matters.”
“Shut the fuck up, Betsy,” Comedian pleaded.
Bear traded a look with Torch, and he nodded, before downing the rest of his beer and making his way over to her.
“Betsy,” I said, as Torch locked an arm around her bicep and began dragging her to the door. “Baby was mine.”
Her eyes widened in horror, and then she was gone.
I turned back to Comedian. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how this looks, right? Wasn’t too long ago that Hawk rolled over on us.”
His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Ain’t ever laid a hand on your Ol’ Lady, Pres. Ain’t ever gonna turn on the club. It was a mistake keepin’ what happened from you—”
The list of shit I couldn’t fix only seemed to grow longer, and I damn sure wasn’t going to go out surrounded by family, but fate had presented one opportunity that I sure as fuck planned on taking.
I tightened my posture as I walked over to stand in front of him. “A mistake that’s gonna cost ya, I’m afraid. Bear, relieve him of his kutte.”
Comedian’s nostrils flared as he stripped it off and tossed it to Bear. “Do you know what she said as she bled out on the bathroom floor? She apologized and said it shouldn’t have been us dealin’ with her. As if she was something that needed to be dealt with—nothin’ more than garbage. She could’ve asked for anything at that moment, and I would’ve given it to her.”
I squared my shoulders and cracked my neck just as Bear’s f
ist struck Comedian’s mouth. “Think it’s time for you to shut the fuck up.”
He straightened and wiped the blood from his mouth with a grin. “So, that’s it? I’m out?”
I wanted to knock his teeth down his throat. He’d been there for my wife, and I hadn’t. It should’ve been me.
He’d known how bad it was and kept it from me while pissing away the opportunity to be a father to a kid I would’ve laid down my life for.
Life had been kind to Comedian.
Where was the justice in that?
“No,” I finally responded, surprising even Bear. “Told you years ago that if your Ol’ Lady couldn’t keep my girl’s name out of her mouth, I’d knock you back down to prospect. Well, guess what, asshole? I wasn’t lyin’.”
His eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Fair’s fair.”
“You can earn your patch, same as the other prospects. Oh, and your boy ain’t ever gonna wear a kutte. I’ve cleaned up after him once, and I ain’t doin’ it again.”
Comedian spat blood onto the concrete. “What’s he supposed to do then?”
I clenched and unclenched my fist. “According to his mama, he wants to go into law enforcement.” Before he could interject, I added, “Let him. You never know when it might benefit the club.”
He gave me a blood-stained grin in response.
If I had it my way, the club would never once need to lean on Mikey. But my way had led to this.
To death.
To destruction.
It ended tonight.
“Make sure he and his Ol’ Lady are on board,” I directed. “Bear, you’re in charge.”
If I wanted, I could’ve forced him to pass Betsy around the club as punishment, but knowing her, she would’ve enjoyed it.
Mikey was going to be okay; I’d made sure of it. That had to be enough.
I sucked in lungfuls of air when I stepped outside, grateful for the rare chill left behind from the late afternoon thunderstorm. The clubhouse sat right on the border, in the middle of Big Bend; the park I’d always thought of when someone mentioned the Wild West.
Protector: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Four Page 9