by Faye Byrd
“That’s a little trickier than swiping a few supplies, but I may be able pull it off,” Rhonda replies. “I can make an educated guess, though.”
I pry open my eyes to seek her out. “Do you think you know, or would you be just guessing?”
“How fast did you go down?” She motions absently with her hand. “I mean, you were on the floor so I take it you didn’t make it where you were headed?” At my nod, she continues, “If you OD on pills or something, you tend to fall asleep and stop breathing after. But Fentanyl, it works faster.”
“Oh my god,” Randi says, standing and pacing beside the bed. It makes me dizzy to watch, so I let my eyes fall closed again. “Fentanyl is deadly. There’s no way Joshua would do that.”
I smile, unsure if my lips actually make the move, but it’s the thought that counts. “He wouldn’t,” I mumble, my entire body feeling like lead. “Something’s wrong.”
The bed dips beside me and soft fingers tangle in my ratty waves. “Just rest, and we’ll figure it out when you’re better.”
I open my eyes, and it takes every bit of effort I can muster. “Wait for me.” It was meant to be a command, but I deliver it in the most pathetic voice possible.
My eyes fall back closed and my mind starts fading, but not before I hear an argument break out across the room. The space beside me is empty, as Randi’s already up and on a mission. This is why I told Mad Dog to stop her. It won’t be fucking pretty—for him—but it’s a fucking must. She can’t go off half-cocked and do something we’ll both regret when the truth is discovered.
I drift off into fucked up dreams that skip from scenario to scenario, all centering around Joshua and him drugging me. Sometimes we’re partying and doing lines, which is fucking crazy and way off base, as I’d never do coke with a kid, if I did it at all. Sometimes he’s this sinister little shit who’s actually trying to kill me, and then there are the other times. The ones where he’s handing me the glass and begging me not to take it in the same breath.
I jerk awake to pitch black, my heart hammering inside my chest. My breaths are loud even in my own ears, and I work to calm them as my mind becomes more alert by the second. Shifting, I spread my hand across the mattress beside me. Empty. I turn my head, the throbbing much less now, and seek out the clock on Randi’s nightstand.
Ten twenty-two.
I toss the blanket aside and stand, the needle jabbing into my arm. I snatch it out and toss it to the floor, putting one foot in front of the other as I make my way to the bedroom door. As I pull it open, the sound of loud voices makes its way down the hallway, and I sigh. I’m about to walk into a shitshow, and I can barely fucking stand.
Using the wall to keep me upright, I follow the noise to the end of the hall. The scene in the front portion of the clubhouse is hectic at best. Obviously, my eyes land on Randi first. She’s pacing back and forth, a half-burned cigarette between her fingers. She doesn’t smoke, so that alone speaks to the intensity of her anxiety. All members of the MC are here now, aside from Jameson and Tank, and Layla and Amy are hovering as well.
These fuckers are having a meeting without me.
About me.
I clear my throat, and the first time goes unnoticed, so I do it again. Louder this time. Randi freezes, her eyes jumping to mine. She tosses the smoke into the ashtray and runs toward me. My arms open of their own accord, and she steps into them. I eye the rest of the room over her head as most of them look on warily.
“What’s all this?” I ask, passing my irritated gaze over my crew. “Have you formed a plan already?”
Wyndall’s the one to speak up, his pointy mustache twitching. “Don’t get your panties in a wad. We were just discussing possibilities. It’s not every day a kid tries to kill our president.”
I huff out a breath, my heart aching at the memory. I didn’t even want to let the little shit into my life, but now that I have, I’ve grown quite fond of him. This situation is so fucked up, and I know deep in my heart that what happened was some kind of error in judgement I just don’t know why, how, or who caused it.
Because someone fucking did.
Randi leans back, her deep blue eyes pinning me in place. “We’re not planning to ambush him if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I know, babe.” I chuckle. “At least I hope not.”
Her lips tighten as she struggles with how to respond. “I want to nab him and force him to fucking explain this shit, but I’m afraid of what I’ll do to him.” She brushes my cheek with the back of her fingers. “And as angry as I am, I can see that you’re not, and that means enough for me to hold back.”
“Good.” I blow out a relieved breath and pass my eyes to the rest of the fuckers who’re watching us like some goddamn movie screen. “That goes for all of you. Joshua is off limits until we can figure out the best way to handle this.” I shake my head. “This shit just doesn’t add up.”
“Unless,” Mad Dog says, standing, “he was a plant all along.”
My jaw tightens.
“Fuck that.” I take a deep breath and expel it slowly so I can properly explore this avenue and dismiss the fuck out of it. “Who the fuck is even left to ‘plant’ him with us?”
Randi snorts, drawing my glare down to her. “Just because most of the Wolves are dead, it doesn’t mean they don’t have sympathizers in Pacific Shores. You know this, Enzo. It’s why you urged Sandra to move Joshua away from there.”
My nostrils flare. I don’t want what they’re suggesting to be true. It’d break my fucking cold, dead heart, but my biggest hope lies in the fact that he knocked the glass from my hand. Even if he meant it for a split second, he changed his mind when it really counted.
He’s still reachable.
“He didn’t follow through,” I insist, my voice as strong as I can make it. “Even if he is some kind of plant, his actions prove that he couldn’t go through with it.”
“I’ll give you that,” Randi agrees, laying her head against my chest. “But we can’t let it pass.”
“I know.” I brush my hand down her hair, looking to my crew. “We’ll have a meeting on this as soon as I’m up tomorrow. I still feel like shit tonight, so we’re going back to bed.”
Randi doesn’t balk at the suggestion. She stays by my side, making sure I don’t fall on my ass. Before she can get me settled on the bed and the door closed, Rhonda knocks lightly before barging right the fuck on in. I arch a brow at my girl, but she only shakes her head.
“Thanks, Rhonda,” she says softly as she turns to her. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“You would’ve been fine,” Rhonda assures, and I have to wonder what all went on while I was on my ass. “Instinct would’ve kicked in if he’d gotten any worse.”
“Still,” Randi says, drawing a heavy breath, “I’m glad you were here.”
“Me too.” She moves past Randi, her eyes on me. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”
“Like shit.”
She steps over and pulls up my lids, examining each eye. “Your pupils look normal.” She lifts my wrist and presses her fingers along my pulse for a beat before releasing it to fall to the bed. “Pulse is strong. I feel confident enough to leave you in Randi’s care now.”
“Of fucking course,” I grumble, eyeing my girl over her shoulder. “I’m lucky enough to be fucking the best nurse in Del Norte county.”
Rhonda laughs, holding up first one finger, then two. “Okay, one, you’re not fucking anyone right away. And two, you mean the second best.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, ready for her to excuse herself so Randi and I can non-fuck. “Thanks, Rhonda. I’d say we’re even now.”
“I agree.” She tilts her head in acknowledgement. “Night, you two.”
She shuts the door behind her, and my girl is still standing in her spot several feet from the bed. I clear my throat. “My arms are aching.”
“What?” She starts toward me. “Why didn’t you tell Rhonda abou
t that?”
“Because”—I smirk—“they’re aching to hold you. And besides, my girl is plenty capable of taking care of all that ails me.”
She moves to the bed, reaching for my button-fly. When I waggle my brows, she rolls her eyes. “I froze today,” she says, urging me to lift so she can tug my jeans down my ass. “You could’ve died, and I was unable to look past my fear and see what was wrong with you.”
“Babe,” I murmur as she straddles my waist and tugs my T-shirt upward. Once it’s out of the way, I lean up and pull her to me at the same time, pressing our foreheads together. “I have every fucking confidence in the world that you didn’t need Rhonda Tanner to save me.”
But …”
“No fucking buts.” I refuse to allow her to deny her talents. “If she hadn’t shown up, you would’ve handled it. She was a crutch you leaned on and nothing fucking more.”
Her eyes fall closed. “I almost fucking lost you, Enzo.”
“No, you didn’t.” I press a soft kiss to her lips before lying back against the pillows. “It’ll take a lot more than a shitty little brat to take me out.”
She snorts, but then her face falls. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive him for this.”
I tug her down to lay her head against my chest and run my hand along her back. “Let’s just hope he wants forgiveness.”
TWELVE
Not What It Seems
Randi
“That’s your big plan?” I shake head, annoyed as fuck. “I could’ve done that myself two days ago. As it is, we’ve wasted time.”
“Randi,” he says in an admonishing tone, gripping his forehead. Recovery hasn’t gone as smoothly as we’d have liked. We’re on day three, and he still feels like shit. “As much as I trust you, this is something I need to do.”
“We,” I stress, glaring at his ass, “need to do. There’s no chance in hell I’ll let you go see that little punk without me.”
“I know, babe.” He’s frustrated, but I couldn’t give a fuck less. That little shit overdosed my Lion. “I just need you to promise that you’ll let me do the talking. There’s something we’re missing in all of this.”
“I hope so.” A small ache develops in my chest when I think of Joshua betraying us like that, but he is from Pacific Shores, and it could’ve been a setup all along. I rub my face, frustrated. “God, I hope so.”
“He knocked it out of Enzo’s hand,” Justice chimes in. “That has to account for something.”
“I think so too,” Mad Dog adds.
Wyndall is ever-sharpening the points on his arrow-stache. It’s even wider now than it was when I first came here. “Yeah, something smells off about this whole thing.”
Enzo reaches for a pack of Marlboros that are lying on the table. He’s cut down a lot in the past couple of years, but when shit gets dicey, he reverts back to a smokaholic, lighting one cigarette after another. Sometimes, he doesn’t even smoke them. They burn down, ashes flying off as he paces or rants until they’re nothing but filters that leave nicotine stains on his fingers.
He shoves it between his lips and flicks the red Bic, inhaling a large gust of smoke before standing and shoving his chair back forcefully. “Let’s do this shit.” His irritated eyes fall on me. “All this speculation is making me feel like an antsy girl or some shit. I need goddamn answers.”
His face pinches, and I recognize that he still isn’t a hundred percent, but this is no time to baby him. We have shit to do. Important shit. I look to Mikey. “Can you keep eyes on us?” At his nod, I scan the rest of the guys. “Be ready to go if shit goes south.”
“You know we got your back,” Justice says, who, by the way, is officially a Lion now. Tank is still considered a nomad, but he runs with us almost all the time.
Enzo smashes his cigarette into the ashtray and meets me at the end of the table, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Wanna be my Fender Fluff for this outing?”
A small giggle slips out, and it feels good to laugh. The past three days have sucked ass. I’ve had to still pull my shifts while worrying about my Lion while I was away. All of this has been on top of him thinking I’ll be the next target. Both Justice and Wyndall have been tasked with my safety, while Mad Dog—the Lion VP—has stuck to Enzo’s side like glue, even though he hasn’t left the clubhouse.
“You sure you’re ready to get back on the bike?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he says with a sneer, though it’s not aimed at me. “It’s time I remind motherfuckers who the fuck they’re dealing with.”
“Fuck yeah.” I lead us from the meeting room and out into the lot. When we get to his Harley, his original one that has been miraculously repaired, he does the same thing as always. He pulls up my hair and slips a rubber band from his wrist. “Thanks, babe.” I peck his pretty lips. “You ready for this?”
“I’m not, actually.” He shakes his head. “This is the first time something, besides losing you, has had the power to hurt me.”
I palm his cheek, so unaccustomed to seeing my Lion this vulnerable. “I’m sorry I forced him on you,” I say softly. “I thought it would be a great relationship.”
He places his palm over mine and sighs. “It still can be. I haven’t given up on him yet.”
“I have,” I snark, lifting to my tiptoes to peck his lips. “But I trust your instincts. If you think he was coerced somehow, then I think so too.”
“Good.” He smirks, tossing his thick thigh over the bike. “Let’s ride, Fluff.”
I chuckle, but it quickly dies off. Seeing him mounted on his sexy hunk of chrome, wearing his Cut with no shirt underneath does things to me. Delicious things. But now isn’t the time, even though I’ve been deprived. For the first time since we’ve been together, four whole days have passed since I’ve been pleasured in some way by this hunk. Goosebumps scatter down my spine as I climb on behind him and scoot flush against his back, noting the gun shoved into the waist of his jeans.
He reaches down and rubs his fingers across my arm that’s anchored around his waist, turning his head to the side. “I know, babe. I feel it too. Tonight. I promise.”
Without another word, he kicks the metal beast to life and we rumble to the gate. I feel oddly unsettled, afraid of what we might find. Because no matter what it is, a scared kid who was pushed or a vengeful kid who couldn’t follow through, something will have to be done about it.
The ride is peaceful, and if I had to guess, I’d say my Lion is taking it easy to put off the inevitable. But we eventually do make it to the small dirt road that’s outside Pacific Shores, but not quite in Crescent City either. Sandra’s car is in the drive as we rumble to a stop, and before we’re off the bike, she’s already standing with the door wide open. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
Again, Enzo procrastinates for as long as he can before I nudge him toward the porch. “Miss Sandra,” he says, tilting his head at her. “I need to speak with Joshua.”
The slight uptick of her lips falls completely, and her face turns ashen. “You mean …” She trails off, and her anxiety swirls through the air. “You mean, he isn’t with you? They aren’t with you?”
My Lion’s brows furrow. “They?”
“Lois,” she whispers, swaying on her feet.
I step forward and grab her arm to keep her upright. “Lois is here?” I ask, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “Or she’s not here, but you think she’s with us?” Tears start streaming down her cheeks, and I guide her inside with Enzo close behind us. “I need you to explain.”
She sits on the sofa and buries her face in her palms, shaking her head. “I knew something was wrong, but I kept thinking they were just being teenagers.” She lifts her eyes, and the heartbreak there nearly does me in. “Why would Lois come for a quick weekend visit and then suddenly skip out on Saturday night? I knew it didn’t make sense, but I let Joshua convince me it was no big deal. She is grown, after all.”
“Okay,” I say softly
, trying to make sense of the things she’s telling us. “Did she go back to Oregon? Is that what you mean?”
“No,” Sandra replies, her face crumpling. “She supposedly was at your clubhouse.” She tosses her hand toward Enzo. “And then Joshua promised he’d go check, and by the time I got up on Monday, he’d already left. He left me a note on the table.” She gets up, moving toward the small dining room. “I haven’t been able to reach either of them since.”
Enzo takes the note and looks down, his brows drawing together in the center of his forehead. “You haven’t heard from him or Lois since this?” He shakes the piece of paper before pushing it into my outstretched hand.
I look down:
Mom,
I promised I’d make sure Lois is okay, and that’s what I intend to do. I’m headed over to the clubhouse now, and I’ll probably be gone a while, but hopefully we’ll both be back this evening.
I love you, and please don’t worry.
Joshua
“Shit,” I hiss, looking to my Lion. “You were right. Something is seriously wrong.”
“Fucking duh,” he barks, his agitation getting the better of him. He tugs on his curls, pacing in short circles. “I knew it, and now I can’t stop kicking myself in the ass for not checking sooner.” He stops and spears Sandra with a glare. “Why didn’t you come to me? Call. Something.”
She glares right the fuck back. “Have you met my children? I haven’t been able to control them for years, so while this is out of the norm, it isn’t unheard of.”
“You’re right,” Enzo says, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry. It’s just that …” He pauses, searching for a convenient lie. “I knew something was wrong, but I wasn’t really in the right frame of mind to do anything about it.”
Her eyes narrow and she looks him over from head to toe. “What aren’t you telling me, Enzo?”
“You don’t want to know.” Enzo shakes his head, his eyes pleading with her to let it go. “I’m going to locate your kids. Let’s just focus on that for now.”