Makes me warm inside to know that he had someone like Evan to lean on before I came along.
Shaun answers. “Sorry about earlier.”
His brow immediately lowers.
Shaun is gone in an instant.
“He’s here with us.” His eyes dart to where Hank is stretched across the couch, snoring. “When did this fucking happen?”
Slowly his gaze moves to me. “I’ll bring her.” He disconnects the call and shoves the phone back in his pocket.
“What’s wrong?” A cold settles into my stomach. There’s only one thing that makes sense.
My house.
“Did those motherfuckers shoot at my house?”
I swear to God King is dead if there’s glass all over the place.
Hawk gives me a single shake, no.
“They set it on fire.”
****
IT’S GONE.
All of it.
Everything. My clothes. My treadmill. My pink bed.
They took it all from me.
To prove a point.
“I’m going to kill him and cut him up into pieces so small no one will ever find him.”
Evan’s gaze slides my way.
The rest of the group stares at me, wide-eyed. Like they’ve never seen a woman pissed off before. I know for a fact they have.
They’ve met Kerri and she’s pissed off as often as I am.
Hawk’s hands land on my shoulders. “You won’t do anything. You will let me handle this for you.”
“I’m not fucking helpless.” I yank away from his hold and take a few steps toward my still-smoldering house. The fire crew has a perimeter set that no one is allowed to cross and I’m toeing the line, squinting into the darkness, trying to see the full scope of the destruction.
But I already know. I’d have to be blind not to realize the place is gone. It’s nothing but a pile of the first place that was only mine.
But there’s something else. I creep a little closer. Now that the worst of the fire is out no one is really paying attention, so I can get past the imaginary barrier they set for me earlier.
“Sweetheart—”
Hawk’s tone is warning. I know he’s worried. Maybe even plotting murder with his friends. But I need to get closer.
I make it all the way to the curb and my skin goes cold as what I was seeing comes into focus.
eye for an eye
It’s painted across my driveway in bright red spray. The water from the crew darkened the concrete, making it hard to see, but it’s there.
“That son of a bitch.” Kerri stands beside me, staring at the spot King made sure we would see. “I should have killed him.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. I can’t imagine what it must be like for her. My parents just suck.
Half of hers is evil as hell.
All this time my parents thought the devil hid in me.
They’ve clearly never met anyone like King, because compared to him I’m an angel.
“Pretty sure someone’s going to.” I glance over my shoulder at the men standing tall and dark behind us. “Probably one of them.”
Kerri turns to me with tears in her eyes.
I’ve never seen her cry. Not once in all the years we’ve known each other.
“This is all my fault. If I hadn’t burned that fucking clubhouse down he wouldn’t have done this.”
“If you hadn’t burned down the clubhouse you and Tracker and Butch would probably all be dead, so—” I lift my brows at her.
Guilt is a funny thing.
It makes you forget the truth of how something really happened.
I’m not going to let Kerri do that. I love her too much to watch her try to shoulder the burden of her father’s bullshit any longer.
I pull her into my arms and say something I’ve already said a few times tonight. “You are not your father’s mistakes.”
“I’m going to need to ask you to step back.” One of the firefighters has his arm out, trying to corral us back behind the imaginary line.
I glare at him. “We’re having a fucking moment.”
His eyes widen for a second at my outburst. “Still gonna have to ask you to have it back there.”
I huff out a loud, dramatic sigh. “Fine.” I keep my glare on him as I walk Kerri back to the spot where he pointed to.
The house isn’t even still burning.
My house.
Jesus.
Evan grabs Kerri and pulls her into his side, pressing a kiss to her head. “We will fix this.” His eyes are on me. “I promise you that.”
Retaliation.
Another eye for an eye.
“Can’t you just,” I lift my shoulders, “let it go?”
The dark stares coming my way from ten of the scariest-looking men I’ve ever seen make the answer clear.
This isn’t something they will let go.
Maybe they can’t.
King won’t back down, that much is clear and I’m smack in the middle of all the people he blames for being where he is. But—
“Where is King?” I turn back to what’s left of my house. No way was he the one who came here and did this.
That means he ordered it.
Which also means he has more power than I realized.
Maybe than any of us realized.
16
THIS IS SO fucked up.
The highest high backed by the lowest low.
My actions have only ever affected me, but right now I’m staring down the three people I dragged in because I couldn’t keep it together when I thought Shelly might be in danger.
She sits on the couch along with the two women Butch, Gypsy and I pulled from The Stable with her. We all have to have a talk.
And the skinny one is real fuckin’ high-strung.
“I don’t see how you helped anything by coming to get us.” She glares at Gypsy who only smiles back at the brunette who was wearing too much make-up and too much perfume the last time I saw her. She points his way. “This is your fault. You should have left me and Becca at the club. They only knew about Shelly.”
“Not true, Beanie.” Gypsy leans back in his seat. “Keep trying to tell you that. You’re guilty by association.” He points at Shelly. “Technically it’s that one’s fault.” His grin widens. “Unless you’re counting whose idea it was to go to The Stable in the first place.”
“You can’t call her Beanie.” Shelly looks at Gypsy, her face serious. “It’s not nice.”
His brows come together. “I thought chicks like being called skinny?”
“It’s a medical condition.” The brunette jumps across the table at Gypsy. We woke her up to bring her here so she’s wearing what she was sleeping in when Shelly and I showed up to drag her from her bed. Pajama pants with unicorns all over them and a fitted t-shirt with the words ‘Mascara and Mud’ emblazoned across the front in gold glitter.
She’s also obviously not a morning person.
The other woman getting a front row view of our boys’ room just watches the fiasco going on around her with no reaction on her face. She and the brunette couldn’t be more different. At least one of the women I have to deal with tonight is calm.
Shelly huffs out a sigh as the brunette grabs for Gypsy. “Don’t hurt him, Felicity.” Shelly straddles the coffee table, grabbing Felicity before she can do much damage. “He’s delicate.”
“Delicate?” Gypsy pops up from his chair right as Felicity lunges at him a second time, pulling from Shelly’s grip and catching him in the center of the chest, taking him down to the rug covering the cement pad.
Gypsy grunts as they land hard.
Tracker leans into my side. “That one fits in doesn’t she?”
“Yup.” I lean forward so I can watch as Gypsy does his best to defend himself against the woman sitting on his chest and smacking at his face.
He doesn’t look as upset about the whole situation as I would expect. Probably because without all the paint on
her face it’s clear as hell this Felicity chick isn’t bad to look at.
And she’s got that thick streak of crazy none of us can seem to stay away from.
Like my girl.
Shelly’s not even trying to help Gypsy anymore. Now she’s just shaking her head, watching as Felicity licks one finger and shoves it in Gypsy’s ear.
I take advantage of her distraction and grab one arm, tugging her down onto my lap. “She always like this?”
Shelly glances back at Tracker. “Not as much as she used to be. First time she met him she dropped her panties in his lap right in front of Kerri.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah? How’d that go over?”
“Not well.” Tracker laughs too. “I thought Kerri was going to shove Felicity’s panties down her throat.”
“She was.” Shelly leans forward to eye the impressive progress her friend is making, then glances up at Butch. “Can you do something about that?”
I swear to God Felicity has Gypsy in a choke hold and is giving him a fishhook, pulling the side of his mouth as far as she can with her finger. I nod to the flailing pile at Butch’s feet. “Stop her before she hurts him.”
Butch lifts his hands up. “Why do I have to do it? He’s the one who called her Beanie. Maybe he deserves it.”
All of the sudden the pile of Felicity and Gypsy shifts and he flips her onto her back, pinning her arms above her head with one hand. “That’s enough.” He smirks down at her. “Feel better now?”
From the look on Felicity’s face Gypsy better hold on tight. If he lets her go she might castrate him with the closest blunt object she can find. “I hate you.”
“Liar.” Gypsy stands up, being careful to avoid the knee jabs she throws his way, then tugs Felicity to her feet with the grip he has on her hands. “Sit down and relax.” He pushes her back onto the sofa next to Becca who still seems unfazed by what’s happening.
She shifts on the sofa, pressing one finger against the large-framed glasses perched on her nose, shoving them higher on her face. “Are you certain we have been identified?”
“No. We’re not certain of anything right now.” It’s Butch who answers her. “I-we just wanted to be sure you understood what was happening and why you need to be extra careful.”
“I thought I was supposed to be extra careful before.” Becca’s attention is solely on Butch now, her question directed at only him.
His eyes shift toward me and Tracker for a second before going back to Becca. “You were. Now you need to be extra, extra careful.”
“So, twice as careful?” She looks confused by the explanation. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“It’s not possible and I’m not fucking doing it.” Felicity jumps up from the couch. “I’m going home.”
“Sit down.”
The whole room turns toward Gypsy where he sits in his chair, eyes narrowed at Felicity.
I’ve never seen the guy anything but relaxed and easygoing, so the intense way he’s staring at Shelly’s friend takes us all by surprise.
Including her, because her jaw drops open a second before she falls back to the cushion. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
Shelly’s gaze volleys between Gypsy and Felicity. “No one’s trying to keep you here against your will. We just want you to realize The Horsemen might consider you a way to get at these guys.”
“These guys?” Felicity’s eyes snap around the room of men. “What the fuck do you mean these guys? I thought they had a problem with him.” She shoves one finger my way. “That’s why they were after you.”
“The Horsemen have a problem with all of us because someone we used to know looks to be their new boss.” One of Butch’s fingers taps out a steady beat against the armrest as he tries to explain the shit show that is our lives in the most basic of ways. “He thinks we betrayed him and wants revenge.”
The room is quiet for a second.
Then Felicity busts out laughing. “This isn’t a fucking movie.” She stands up. “You’re all so dramatic. I’m calling an Uber and going home.” The brunette shakes her head as she walks toward the side door that leads from the garage. “Betrayal and revenge. Come on. You’re not the fucking mafia.” She walks out the door without looking back.
I eye Gypsy. “You gonna go get her?”
He blows out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. “Think she needs a break from me.” He points at Crow. “Can you take her home and stay until I get there?”
Crow shrinks back from the group a little. “I would but I don’t have a car.”
Crow’s one of King’s more recent recruits and the kid didn’t get the chance to learn a trade before everything imploded, so he’s struggling more than some of us.
Not for long though. From what I hear he’s busting his ass at work and his new boss is more than a little impressed.
Makes me think all this is worth it. Keeping us all together.
Gypsy fishes out the keys to his El Camino and tosses them to Crow. “Don’t let her give you shit.”
Crow catches the keys and stares at them a second before looking at Gypsy. “I’ll be real careful with it.”
Gypsy shrugs. “Just a car.” He leans back in his seat, taking on the more relaxed pose everyone is used to seeing from him. “Just make sure Felicity’s taken care of.”
Crow nods and hurries for the door. Probably smart enough to figure the spunky brunette might be halfway to the interstate by now.
As soon as he’s out the door Gypsy turns to the rest of the group which now includes everyone but Crow and Moon who’s with Kerri and Jill. “King’s pissed and out to make a point. My guess is he’s the reason they’re doing the shit they are. So far they’ve gone after one of Cook’s delivery trucks, busted the windows out of the warehouse fucking up a shit ton of inventory, and burned down Shelly’s house.” His gaze moves from one man to the next. “Anything else happened we need to know about?”
No one says anything.
I hope to God that means nothing has.
“Good.” I ease Shelly up. She’s tired. Has to be. And I need all these guys out of here so my girl can get some sleep. “Be fuckin’ careful because I don’t see this going away anytime soon.”
Everyone leaves but Butch, Tracker and Gypsy. I send Shelly and Becca into the house so we can have a few minutes alone.
Butch watches as they go before turning back to me. “She okay?”
I shrug. “Don’t know.”
I haven’t had time to talk to her. Not about anything. My parents. Her house. King’s warning on her driveway.
“You think King would really be interested in Becca and Felicity?” Gypsy looks like his normal self. Leaned back, one leg slung over the arm of his chair.
But I know better.
I can see it in his eyes. Something that’s never been there before. A focus he doesn’t usually have.
“There any reason he should be besides them being out with Shelly?”
Both men are silent.
Fuck.
I wipe one hand down my face. “So now we have Jill, Kerri, Shelly, Becca, and Felicity to try to keep covered?”
“Becca and Felicity work together so we only need one man to cover them both during the day.” Butch has one finger up. “We can probably convince Shelly and Kerri to go to Jill’s during the day while most of us are working so we only need one man there.” He lifts another finger.
“Two. We just have to have two men to cover them all during the day.” I lean my head back and try to sift through who’s working when. “Who do we have for Felicity and Becca?”
Gypsy lifts one hand. “I got a good second at the warehouse. Can run it when I’m not there.”
I focus on Tracker. “You got the other three?”
That group is the most likely to draw King’s vengeance. The daughter who started the end. The wife who took everything from him.
And Shelly.
I let out a slow breath, trying to keep calm.
But King’s a wild card. He’s capable of anything.
Hell, the motherfucker had his own daughter kidnapped trying to start a war between clubs.
Ironically ours and the one he’s now trying to take over.
Or already has.
I push up from my chair. “Becca needs to get home.” It’s after four in the morning and I can get two hours if I collapse right now.
Butch, Tracker, and Gypsy follow me into the house where Becca and Shelly are on the couch staring at the television with Hank stretched out between them.
Butch crosses to where Becca is curled up and crouches down beside her. “You ready to head home?”
She blinks a few times behind her glasses. “Yes.” She yawns as she gets up. “Bye, Shells. Call me tomorrow.”
Shelly nods. “I’m sorry about this.”
Becca shrugs. “I’m not. It’s interesting.”
Shelly laughs softly. “I love you, Becca.”
Becca smiles. “I know. I love you too.” She heads for the front door and opens it, stepping out onto the porch where Shelly and I had a hell of a time what seems like forever ago. Butch follows her out with Gypsy and Tracker close behind.
“I’ll drop her off tomorrow on my way to work.” I catch the door as Tracker leaves, holding it open so he can hear me.
He nods. “I’ll be there. I think Kerri wants to move in until this all dies back down.”
“You think it will?”
I thought the worst of what I carry grew from what happened between my father and mother.
But maybe I was wrong.
Maybe the worst of what I bring wherever I go is King. The past I created myself.
Tracker stands silent.
I nod. “See ya later.”
I pull the door closed and stand there for a minute, staring at it. I’ve wanted to talk to Shelly all night. Make sure she’s okay.
Or as okay as she can be.
But now I don’t know what to say.
How many ways can I apologize for what happened tonight?
What might continue happening.
Her arms wrap around my waist and her body rests against my back. “Can we go to bed?”
Hawk Wild (Lost Boys MC Book 2) Page 15