“I’ll tell you anything, Ren...just name it.”
“The name is Delta, and I’m sure you will.”
* * *
Two hours later, we left the hotel suite with all Jerry knew. I’d bet my last dollar on it. We’d had one tight moment when more of Jerry’s bodyguards tried to break up our party, but I handled them. He deflated when we’d taken those guards down but had held out until Eagle pulled off his thumbnail. That was serious fucking pain. At that point a blubbering Jerry told us everything. We had access codes, guard counts, security measures, everything we could think to ask, including the secret—DeLuca laundered money for two other mob families, which made the Chinese angle look better. Taking out DeLuca would cripple three organizations and hurt the entire system.
When I’d gotten everything I could from him, I gave Eagle the nod. He went to stand by the door. I knocked Jerry out and Eagle and I carried him out to the elevator. Using Jerry’s badge we took the elevator straight to the underground parking where we stuffed him in his own trunk. Eagle drove his car back to the motel where Thorn and I stayed.
We knocked and Thorn let us in. Guns, ammo, explosives, gizmos and knives were carefully arranged on one bed. We could capture a small island, hell a large island, with this kind of hardware.
“What the fuck?” Eagle’s jaw dropped.
“I like being prepared.”
Gaping at me and back to Thorn, Eagle just shook his head and didn’t say another word.
“You get what we needed from Jerry?” Thorn lay on the other bed in the room.
“Oh yeah, more than we need.” I started laying out all the juicy bits Jerry had told us. Eagle jumped in from time to time. “What’s the tension like with the Triad now? Will a hit be believable? And how would they hit them? We need more intel, brothers.”
Thorn sat up and grinned. “I’ll research the 14K war style—I know a guy.”
“And I know a couple guys who can tell me about the Triad and mob tensions on the ground.” Eagle gave a nod and left.
“That leaves me watching DeLuca, I guess.”
Thorn nodded. “And Jerry needs to be gone.” He made a motion across his neck. “Be best if no one could find a body.”
“I will take care of that.” He’d been just as guilty as Ricci in my book. “And watch DeLuca.”
With a bit of luck, I could totally start real tensions between the two organizations with Jerry’s death. I couldn’t think of a man who deserved it more.
I’d investigated a Triad case as an MP, and I remembered three things: they liked knives and fire, each clan had a lot of independence, and they hated the Italian mob. I planned to use all that to my advantage.
I started Jerry’s car and drove across town to the small Asian district in Vegas where the 14K clan of the Triad had set up shop. I would use Jerry’s death as a play in our black op. I called Eagle to see if he had better intel on where to dump the body within the Triad territory. We wanted this to look like a professional hit that would withstand at least a little examination by the cops or the mob.
Eagle didn’t pick up, so I texted the question. In a moment my phone pinged with an address—just outside the heart of their district. He left me one other set of instructions. Burn everything.
I put in the address on my GPS and ended up under an interstate overpass—there was no one in sight. I knew what I needed to do but it soured my stomach. Murdering Jerry, because that’s what it was, was hard, and to put two to his head while he was out—that wasn’t how I operated. I pulled out my Glock and went to work. Two to the forehead and then I slit his throat—Triad style—before I torched the car. I started the fire in the driver’s seat because I sure as fuck didn’t want any of my DNA or fingerprints making it to the Vegas police.
I walked down the access road and across a couple other streets to a biker bar I’d been to a few times. I ordered a double of Johnny Walker before I texted Eagle to pick me up. I’d ended Jerry and that fucker deserved it, but any man deserved to go out with a chance to fight back. I’d killed for Uncle Sam, so killing for the Brotherhood wasn’t an issue, and I refused to let this particular kill bother me. Thorn wouldn’t have even given it a second thought, too bad I wasn’t him.
Eagle walked in before I’d finished my drink. “You okay, brother?” He slapped my back and ordered a round of whiskey.
“I’m good. What’s next?” I wanted this over because there was a blonde in Barden who I needed at least one more taste of before I brought her home to Vegas. We would never be the forever kind of thing, but right now I craved that peaches and cream scent. Buried inside her, I could forget the crap that ate at me, and pretend I were a different kind of man—the staying kind.
Chapter 18: Glory
I shouldn’t have come home. Only a day had passed, and I wanted to run away and never come back. Home reminded me of what I’d lost, and what I might never get back. What if I had to stay here?
Part of me wanted to look as good as Avery did on the arm of her biker, and that scared me. I couldn’t settle. I wouldn’t settle. But the longer I was around these women and their strong bikers, the less it felt like settling.
So I kept my distance, even put up barrier between me and my bestie, trying to rein in my jealousy. I didn’t want these bikers, but I couldn’t argue that the love I saw in my friends’ lives made me envious.
I’d talked myself into joining Avery and Mark for breakfast the second day—it was as public as you could get and that way I didn’t have to tell them my sad stupid tale, yet. I left my room in the clubhouse and walked out into the main room. More than forty bikers sat eating but I didn’t spot Avery. Mark waved and I headed toward his table by the door. He, Zero and Rock sat there along with a couple others I didn’t know. I had just sat next to Mark when I heard her squeal. She barreled over to me and gave me a huge hug, and in that moment, everything was right in my world.
“I’m not letting you leave my side,” Avery whispered in my ear.
Another reminder we needed to get my living arrangements settled. I wasn’t staying in Barden.
I glanced at Mark, who shrugged and dug into his food. “Better get some grub.” He motioned with his fork to the line.
As I came back with biscuits and gravy, Avery leaned over and kissed Rock. She was so damn beautiful. Then I noticed him pat her belly. Damn, she was expecting. Tears welled in my eyes and slid down. She’d always wanted to be a mother—she wanted to and could do it right, better than her fucked-up parents.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She flipped to me and said, “Shh, we haven’t said anything.”
But I could see the love there and I fell apart crying. And of course she joined me.
Once I got the waterworks under control, I dug into the food, embarrassed by my outburst. I never cried and now all I did was cry.
Conversation flowed around me, and it hit me, this was a family. Avery’s family. And I wasn’t a part of it. She hadn’t called me when she found out, or told me when we talked. Mark didn’t call me anymore, either. They’d found family together, and I was intruding.
Mark told this story about a new recruit and Avery touched my arm. “You haven’t met Van yet, but he’s a great artist, and he’ll be a great biker in a year or two.” She assessed me. “He’s our age and might be perfect for you.”
“I’m not staying.” The words were louder than I intended. “I’m going home as soon as I can.”
Avery frowned and grabbed my hand. “This is home. You can’t go back to Vegas, it won’t be safe for you. Rock said that—”
“My heart, calm down.” Rock frowned at me as he patted Avery’s hand. “Of course she is staying here, especially now.” He glanced pointedly at Avery’s stomach.
How easy would it be to just say yes, and then back out later, but I didn’t do that. Nope. “This isn’t my home and I�
��m not staying. I have to go back and that’s that.” I stood up, hands on hips.
“Stop saying that!” Avery stood, tears running down her face. “When did this stop being home?”
I backed up, glancing at all the bikers frowning at me. They didn’t like me upsetting Avery. “I don’t know, but it’s not home for me.” I turned and almost ran out the door, stumbling into the bright sun. I began walking down the driveway, heading somewhere, although I didn’t know where. It was too much—I’d panicked and run away. I always ran away from what I couldn’t face. Breath heaving and heart pounding, anxiety beat in time with my frantic pulse. Was this another panic attack? It didn’t feel the same as my first one, but I wasn’t okay. Would I ever be okay again?
“Glory, wait,” Mark yelled.
I stared at the man I barely knew anymore.
“Come back here, you can take my truck.” He motioned for me and then jingled his truck keys.
Feeling stupid, I hiked back to him, not sure what to say.
“You really needed to do that?” He frowned at me. “You know she’s pregnant? Not even six weeks yet.”
I hadn’t known, and that was the point. She’d called Mark, not me, to share the news. This life wasn’t mine and was never going to be mine. “I panicked. It’s all too much—I feel too much—I am a fucking mess.” I sobbed the last words.
Mark pulled me close and held me while I wept. “I’m so screwed up. My brain, my feelings, all of it’s too much.” I had to stop breaking down like this. I sucked in a breath and pulled away, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. “When will he be back?”
“Delta?” He shrugged. “A few days.”
I didn’t want to think about what Delta was doing because of me. I didn’t want to think about him, at all. “I’m so messed up in the head. And the club and all the stuff here—it overwhelms me.”
“Is this more of the trauma stuff?” Mark stuffed hands in his pockets.
“Maybe. All I know is I can’t do this right now—not even for Avery.”
He held out the keys to his truck. “Keep it while you’re here.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t deserve friends like him. “Thanks.”
I held back the tears and drove away from him and the scene I’d just created. The truth was they were too good for me. I’d known that for a long time now, and what’s more, I’d proved it, yet again. God, I was a complete bitch.
I drove to Mama’s house. She took one look at me and broke down crying herself. Mama pampered me and treated me just like she always did when I was sick as a child. She made me her homemade chicken and dumplings, covered me up in soft blankets, and told me everything would be all right. And that felt absolutely wonderful.
Three days later, I sat in my bedroom feeling sorry for myself, staring at the beauty pageant trophies that still held their place of honor on the top shelf of a bookcase Mama had bought to display them. Of course, my Miss Teen Oklahoma trophy sat in its place of honor on the mantel. I doubted Mama would ever move it, although I hated looking at it. It reminded me of my biggest failure—I’d been second runner up for Miss Teen USA. And I’d broken Mama’s heart and lost out on the best scholarship I could’ve ever hoped to receive. No one cared about the second runner-up going to their school, so I hadn’t gone to college. I hadn’t been a very good student, and solid Bs in a small town school didn’t impress anyone.
I made myself get out of bed and sit down at the vanity where Mama had taught me how to do makeup before I’d learned to read. Looking in the mirror, I saw the bruises were almost gone, so I started applying the makeup to make them disappear. My cheek had a red incision line that was beginning to fade. My thighs and other naughty bits were far from healed and made their dissatisfaction apparent every time I walked. I truly prayed a couple times for those magic kinda thighs that don’t touch when I walked, but each step and swish of thigh against thigh stung. I couldn’t sit with my legs crossed, either—I was spreading my legs wider than any guy I knew.
“Glory Ann, you have a visitor.” Mama peeked in my room. “I’ll tell her you’re freshening up and will be down soon.”
“Who is it?” I’d been hiding out here because I didn’t think any of the bikers would come here. And if they did, Mama would send them packing.
“Why it’s Avery, of course! She stops in to see me from time to time, you know.” Mama blushed. “Such a sweet girl.”
“But she’s in the club.” I wasn’t sure if Mama was going senile. She hated the Jericho Brotherhood.
“Well, you know, they sponsored Founder’s Day last year and that one they call Mama, she’s even joined our ladies’ club.” Mama grinned. “I hate to speak ill of family, but I think my sister thrived on strife. Since she’s been gone, everyone gets along.”
“So you aren’t in the Brotherhood-hating club anymore?”
Mama had the grace to blush. “Goodness, no. After all that trouble Gerald caused, and it was that club who set things right! No, it’d be wrong to hold a grudge.”
“So I can go and marry a biker and bring you biker babies?” I laughed, knowing some things would never change.
Mama rolled her eyes. “You’re made for better things, Glory Ann.”
Teasing Mama had made me forget for a few moments that Avery was downstairs waiting on me. God, I didn’t want to see her, but at the same time I needed to see her. I’d missed her more because I knew she was right down the street from me.
I finished putting on my face before I ventured downstairs. Mama might be letting her standards change when it came to the club, but she’d never accept less than perfect from me. She’d insisted on it since I could remember, and it’d become one of the bonds that held us together. Silly that something I had no control over—my looks—mattered so much to her. But it did, and I would always do my best to make her proud. It was how she’d raised me.
In the living room, Avery was staring at all our family photos standing like soldiers waiting for inspection on the piano top.
“Mama says you two made peace.” I tapped my fingers on my thighs. I stood only a few feet from her but I didn’t know how to close the physical distance, let alone the emotional distance that had grown between us.
She didn’t move either, maybe she was as uncertain as me. “Yeah, the divide isn’t really there anymore, and that’s a good thing.” Avery gave me a tentative smile. “Mark’s parents and my brother Chet have both come to club get-togethers. Things change all the time...” She trailed off, looking from the piano to me. A tear slipped down her cheek. “When did we become strangers?”
Of course, she went right to it. Tears slipped down my cheeks faster and faster. “I guess it happened slowly, and now, how do I get you back?” My voice broke.
Avery closed the distance and her arms were around me in a second. “Like this.” Her words were barely a whisper.
I embraced her and held on tight. “I’m sorry.” I repeated the words over and over. I’d driven the distance between us by not coming home. Had it been pride or fear that had kept me away? Probably both.
At home, I had to admit my life in Vegas was far from the glamourous one I’d bragged about. And in Barden, I had to admit my friends had found a happiness more fulfilling than mine. And worst of all, I still wouldn’t trade my life for theirs because I knew that was my place. This wasn’t my home, even if these were my people.
“Shh,” Avery consoled me. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She stroked my hair and soothed me the way only she could. “I didn’t come to you either.” She stepped back from me and looked me in the eye. “I have a confession.”
“I know about the baby.” I winked at her, trying to lighten the mood.
Her eyes lit up before she waved my words away. “No, silly, about not coming to see you. I did that on purpose, so you’d miss me so much you’d come home.” She looked at the floor. “But you didn�
��t come back, and I stayed away to punish you, maybe, for leaving me.” She sniffed. “We could’ve come, Rock suggested it, but I always had a reason to not go.”
“Look, you didn’t need—”
“Yes, I did, dammit!” She fisted hands on her hips. “I’m your best friend, and I stayed away to hurt you. Then I felt bad, and then I called less, and then we were apart—for real this time.”
“I did that too. I only came home once.” I hugged her.
“I was wrong. I’m sorry! I was so wrong.” Avery held me so tight my ribs protested, but I didn’t say a word. It felt too good to have my best friend back after all those lonely years.
“I was afraid you didn’t need me anymore. Afraid you’d try and make me stay. I was just so damn afraid.” I whispered the words. I’d always been the brave one—at least that’s what all our friends said, but honestly, Avery was the bravest because she’d always lived by her own rules. I hated that our dreams lived in separate cities hundreds of miles apart, but I loved that we both lived our dream.
“I was wrong. Forgive me.” She sniffed again and wiped her nose with her sleeve.
“If you forgive me.” I gave her a watery smile. “I didn’t know how to make it all right again. You and Mark have this whole other world that just isn’t mine.”
Avery nodded. “I know.” Her acknowledgement held this sad finality to it. “Rock made me see that after you left. He’s so damn smart—if I didn’t love him so much, it’d irritate me to hell and back again.”
I laughed. “I’m glad you have him. Have this...everything you dreamed of.”
She gave me a proud smile. “I do have it. And so I get a little smug and forget that we aren’t the same no matter how much I want you here with me. Tell me about how your dream was going before the douchebags put a crimp in it.” Avery sat on Mama’s green couch and crossed her legs crisscross applesauce like she used to do when we were little.
I sat but couldn’t that way, so I angled toward her but had to keep my feet on the floor and legs spread wide, and even then my thighs throbbed. “Dancing is hard work, and everyone is as pretty, or even prettier than me.” That sounded kinda like a whine.
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