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Traitor (Southern Rebels MC Book 3)

Page 12

by Kristin Coley

“I love you, too, baby,” I heard the goodbye in her voice and closed my eyes as she said, “I’ve got to go.” The line went dead in my ear and I pocketed the phone, unable to shake a sudden uneasiness.

  “Keep her safe, please.” I wasn’t sure who I was talking to, but Sloan seemed to think someone was listening so I tried. “Protect her when I can’t. Help me keep the ones I love safe.”

  A bang brought my head up and I glanced around the empty space, wondering who or what had made the noise. “Hello? Anyone there?” I didn’t expect an answer and I didn’t get one. “There are no drugs out here, but there’s some water and crackers in the mini fridge,” I called out in case it was someone looking for a place to crash for the night.

  I thumped my fist against the wall and headed for the house, not worried about whatever was out there when I had plenty more to worry about inside.

  I snuck though the door, careful to muffle the sound of the deadbolt so I didn’t wake Cord, who slept so lightly a butterfly flapping his wings would wake him up.

  I headed for the couch, trusting my memory to get me there without bumping into anything, but I wasn’t expecting a body to be laying across it.

  “Mmpphh, get your heavy ass off me,” Clutch gripped as I struggled to get up as he shifted underneath me. The light flipped on and Cord stood there, shaking his head.

  “Not a sight I ever want to see again,” he murmured, blinking at the sight of our tangled limbs and I collapsed with a sigh. Clutch grumbled, shoving me over as he sat up and Creed came up behind Cord.

  “I told Sloan a burglar would be quieter,” he drawled as he came into the room. “She didn’t believe me.”

  Cord sank into the armchair, propping his feet on the coffee table, as he gazed at me. “You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?”

  “Which one of you fuckers called Johnny?” I accused instead of answering. All three of them raised their hands and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No wonder he was aggravated.” I shook my head and Creed sat on the ottoman, his hands dangling between his legs as he folded his large frame in the small space.

  “Feel better?” He asked and I nodded.

  “I don’t,” Clutch muttered, shifting over to give me more room. “Woke up with an ass in my face and it wasn’t even a nice one.”

  “I’ll have you know, I have a fine ass, thank you very much,” I retorted, leaning back on the cushions as I rubbed my head. “I was planning to sleep here.”

  “You have a bed.”

  “I’m not sure I’d be welcome right now,” I admitted sheepishly. I groaned, closing my eyes. “I need to apologize, get my shit straight, ya know?”

  Clutch snorted as the other two nodded. “If there’s one thing the Hayes brothers can do, it’s make women fall at their feet. I think you got this.”

  “Say you’re sorry,” Creed advised. “When she asks for what, say everything.”

  “Bring ice cream and a plastic spoon.”

  “Plastic?”

  “Hurts less when she flings it at your head,” he said with an air of experience.

  I glanced over at Clutch and he shrugged. “I haven’t gotten that far with Ronnie yet.”

  There were a few grimaces, but no one commented. Ronnie was a sore subject. Clutch had started seeing her while I was gone and we all had our doubts about how long it would last.

  I glanced around the room seeing the four of us together and it hit me how many times we’d done this exact same thing. How many nights Clutch crashed on the couch or took one of the bunks in my room, the times he’d sat at the dinner table with us, and helped with homework. He’d been there the whole time and we just hadn’t seen it.

  “I got to tell you something,” I said, shaking my head as I leaned forward, and caught the wary glances they exchanged. “I know. I know we’ve been through a lot tonight but I have to add one more thing.” I glanced at Clutch. “Johnny told me tonight and he said he wanted to be the one to tell you, but it can’t wait.”

  Clutch’s face was concerned and I just blurted it out. “You’re our brother.” He eyed me cautiously but when I didn’t say anything else, he laughed lightly.

  “Of course I am.” He clasped my shoulder in a tight grip. “We’re brothers by choice if not by blood.”

  I shook my head in frustration. “No, we’re actual brothers,” I said, trying to get him to understand. I knew Creed got it when I heard his indrawn breath.

  “You’re a little drunk, Crew,” Clutch said, trying to laugh it off. “I’ve always considered you a little brother.”

  “Crew, what are you saying?” Cord asked and I glanced at Creed, who nodded.

  I reached over and grasped Clutch’s arm. “Cash Hayes was your biological father.” He stared at me, his expression stunned before shaking his head. “Yes, Johnny told me tonight.”

  Clutch leaped to his feet, moving fast for a guy his size as Creed and Cord stayed seated, Cord rubbing his jaw while Creed seemed almost relieved.

  “No, this can’t be. Mom would have told me. Cash would have said something.” He kept shaking his head, but there was no taking it back now. I could see the resemblance in the shape of our eyes and nose. His build was different than ours, more barrel chested where we were longer and leaner. He glanced at me almost desperately. “You must have misunderstood him.”

  “I didn’t,” I answered tiredly. “You’re our brother and I’m glad.”

  Cord exhaled. “All this time. Jesus. Why didn’t they ever tell us?”

  Creed glanced at me, still not saying anything.

  “Johnny said Sylvia made them promise. Made our Dad promise not to say anything and Johnny too,” I replied. “Apparently, Dad loved Sylvia, but things got messed up and she never forgave him for –”

  “Me,” Cord said hollowly. “We’re only six months apart in age. Dad knocked up our Mom and lost Sylvia.”

  “Yeah, so the story goes.”

  “How can you just accept this?” Clutch burst out, pacing the room. “How are you just okay with this?”

  “You’ve always been our brother, just now we know it’s by blood too,” Creed answered, standing up abruptly. “You know you’re one of the Hayes boys now, right?” Clutch came to a halt, staring at each of us and we all smiled.

  “Twenty-nine years I dreamed about being able to say that,” he admitted, his voice thick. “I wanted to be one of Cash Hayes’ sons, to be your blood brother, and now, to find out I was all along and no one told me.”

  “No one told us,” Creed corrected. “But we always felt it. You were raised with us in everything but name.”

  “I think Dad must have wanted to tell you,” Cord murmured and Clutch glanced at him with so much hope, my gut clenched in sympathy. “He made sure he spent time with you, one on one, just like he did with us.”

  “Johnny said Sylvia was Dad’s one,” I added. “She was it for him, they just never could work it out.”

  “But they never told us.” Clutch came back to the couch, sinking down next to me again. “We missed so much.”

  “Did we?” Cord asked. “I remember a lot of pickup basketball games in the driveway.”

  “Riding our bikes down to the clubhouse,” Creed mentioned.

  “Who taught me how to change a carburetor?” I asked, elbowing him. “You’ve been my big brother my whole life.”

  Cord shook his head. “I’m not the oldest anymore.” He laughed, looking almost excited. “I’m not the big brother.” Clutch gave him a dampening glare and Cord almost crowed. “See, I never could do that right.”

  “You’re crazy, all you motherfuckers are cra-zy,” he muttered, rubbing the top of his head.

  “Welcome to the crazy motherfucking brotherhood, brother,” Cord retorted and a slow grin formed on Clutch’s face.

  “I am, aren’t I?” We nodded. “I’m your brother. We’re brothers. Honest to God brothers.” We all heard the excitement as it started to really sink in and then he put me in a headlock as he hugged me and Creed
threw himself across the coffee table, landing on us. Cord was a little slower, sitting his ass down across my legs as we piled together on the groaning couch.

  “What is going on?” Tori demanded, standing in the door, knit sleep pants hanging low on her hips as a tank top hugged her torso.

  “We’re brothers,” Clutch declared excitedly and she arched a single eyebrow.

  “And?”

  “Brothers,” he said again, squeezing my neck a little too hard and I choked.

  “Okaaaay,” she drawled, turning around to leave. “I think they’ve been drinking,” she told Sloan, who watched us in amusement. Drea hovered behind them and Tori smiled at her in sympathy. “My condolences on continuing that gene pool.”

  “Hey,” Cord shouted. “You’re insulting me too.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder. “You’re hugging it out with your brothers instead of in bed with me,” she reminded him and he disentangled himself, hopping up.

  “Wait up,” he called and knuckled Clutch on the head. “Night, big brother,” he said with a wink.

  Sloan had her arms crossed, one side of the t-shirt she wore slipping off her shoulder and Creed quickly got up, going to her and kissing the exposed shoulder. “You don’t seem surprised,” I heard him murmur to her and she shrugged.

  “I think you were the only ones who didn’t know,” she replied as he wrapped his arms around her and they walked down the hall.

  Clutch released me from the chokehold and shoved me off the couch. “You’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight,” he said meaningfully as I picked myself up off the floor. Clutch flopped back on the couch, a huge smile on his face, and I nodded, hitting the light switch as I met Drea in the hall.

  We stood there awkwardly for a moment before she started walking and I found myself following her, the sway of her hips mesmerizing me all the way to my room.

  I stood in the door as she went to the bed and sat down. “You can come in,” she mentioned, rolling her eyes ruefully. “I mean it is your room. I can leave.”

  “No,” I said, walking in and shutting the door behind me. “It’s just strange seeing you here.”

  She nodded, ducking her head as her fingers knotted together. “I never meant to come and disrupt your life.” She sighed. “Of course, that’s exactly what I did. I don’t know how it couldn’t disrupt your life,” she chattered nervously, stopping abruptly when I sat next to her.

  “I don’t want to be my dad,” I blurted out, feeling young and unprepared for what was coming. “I mean, I want to be like my dad as a dad. Everyone says he was a great dad. I don’t know because he died before when I was really young, but my brothers they’ve told me and shown me.”

  “Then why don’t you want to be like him?” Drea asked quietly.

  “Because he sucked at relationships,” I admitted, not looking at her. “Because everyone says I’m the spitting image of him and I don’t want to screw this up.”

  “What’s this?”

  “Us.”

  “Is there an us?” She questioned and I glanced at her, seeing the uncertainty on her face.

  “I think there’s been an us since you had my back in the bar fight,” I answered truthfully. “I want this kid to have a mom and a dad in their life.”

  “We don’t have to be together to do that,” she replied and I nodded, taking a deep breath.

  “We don’t,” I agreed. “But I think it would be better if we were together.” I didn’t say I loved her, or any of the other things I hoped for, but it was a start. “One day at a time?”

  She nodded slowly, her expression reluctant. “I don’t want,” she sighed, looking frustrated. “I don’t want to just be your baby mamma, okay? I want there to be a possibility we can have a real relationship.”

  “I do too,” I told her, and seeing the surprise on her face, I groaned. “I don’t think I’m saying any of this right.” I turned to face her, and took her hand. “A lot happened today, and I mean, a lot. The last time I saw you, you were disappearing out the window. That was three months ago.” She nodded, her head dipping down, and I nudged her chin back up. “I need to apologize. I reacted badly that day. You blindsided me, honestly, and it felt like I’d been betrayed.”

  “I can understand that,” she whispered, inhaling. “I made a few mistakes and a whole lot of omissions. Trusting me will take time.”

  I grimaced. “That’s the thing though. I do trust you. As much as I hate it, I believe you. Right now, I’m more worried you’ll walk out on me and take our kid with you,” I said, gesturing to her still flat stomach. “Or lie to me because you think it’s for my own good.”

  “I’d like to tell you that won’t happen, but you’re not ready to hear it.”

  “Not yet,” I agreed. “This has been one hell of a day, and I just want to sleep and hope it makes more sense in the morning.”

  Her fingers came up to my cheek, and she brushed them lightly over the side of my face, yanking her hand away quickly as she blushed. “You don’t seem as upset with me as you were earlier.”

  “I think I’m getting over the shock,” I admitted, stretching out on the bed and urging her to do the same. “Luckily, I’ve got a lot of people who have no problem telling me when I’m being an idiot.” I laughed. “Being the youngest brother means you get to see everyone else screw up and can avoid it.”

  “That include an accidental pregnancy,” she questioned, curling up next to me.

  “Yeah, no,” I replied, feeling some of the tension drain from me as she relaxed in my arms. I’d missed this without even realizing it. Part of me wanted to play it cold and keep her at a distance, but the larger part relished the weight of her body next to mine. Satisfaction hummed through me, knowing she was mine, pregnant with my child, and that simple fact had brought us back together.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Drea

  I laid there, listening to his heartbeat as he slept, my hand cradling my stomach. I had thought it would take us longer to get to this point, but as his chest rose and fell under my head, I was intensely grateful we had this moment.

  I’d wasted so much time pursing revenge and then running from what I felt, that now I was content to just be in the moment.

  My phone buzzed and I ignored it, until it started buzzing again. I eased out of Crew’s hold and grabbed the phone, catching it on the last ring as I saw it was my Dad. “Hey,” I whispered, trying not to wake Crew. “What’s up?”

  I heard the hitch in his breathing and knew whatever was coming wasn’t good. “Dwayne called me, as a courtesy,” he started, pausing to take a deep breath, “The witness is gone. There was a hit on the safe house and he’s gone AWOL.”

  “The agents with him?”

  “Dead.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered brokenly. “What happened to him?”

  “They don’t know. Either Martinez has him or he managed to escape. Either way, without the witness, the prosecution has no case.”

  I closed my eyes, knowing I had to tell Crew, and wondering how he’d take it. “Thanks for calling to tell me.”

  “I thought you’d want to know,” he replied. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  I ended the call, the phone hanging loosely in my hand as I sat there, praying Deacon had made it out alive. The phone disappeared from my hand and I glanced over my shoulder to see Crew staring at me coldly. I thought back over the conversation and winced when I realized he must have overheard me say I love you to my dad.

  “I was talking to my dad,” I told him, nodding to the phone. “7235 is the lock code.” He punched it in and confirmed the last call was from my dad.

  He handed the phone back, shaking his head. “I needed to make sure,” he murmured and I nodded.

  “You’re not going to ask what he was calling about?” I questioned and he shook his head ruefully, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

  “I think I’ve been enough of an asshole this morni
ng,” he rumbled and I slapped his chest.

  “Maybe, but you do need to know.” He opened one eye and I took a deep breath, hating what I was about to tell him. “There was a hit on the safe house where Deacon was and he’s gone.”

  “So we don’t know if he’s alive or dead?”

  I shook my head. “If Martinez’s men got to him, then he’s probably dead,” I admitted reluctantly.

  “Or he escaped and is on the run,” Crew said hopefully.

  “There is that possibility,” I said carefully, not wanting to get his hopes up further. “But without Deacon, there is no case against Martinez.” I shook my head. “I should have killed him when I had the chance,” I said bitterly.

  Crew brushed the hair off his face as he asked, “Aren’t the videos enough?”

  My forehead creased as I repeated, “Videos?”

  “Yeah, the videos Deacon took of Martinez and Monty meeting,” he explained, scratching his chest as he sat up, a reddened scar marring the side of his abdomen. He gave me a questioning glance. “You know about the videos, right?”

  I shook my head slowly, as excitement started to grow inside of me. “If there are videos, then we don’t need Deacon’s testimony.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my suddenly racing heart. “It would remove the target off of Deacon’s back,” I added urgently and Crew curled his hand into a fist.

  “Except we don’t know if they already got to Deacon.”

  “Yes, but it means we still have Martinez,” I stated, trying to see the positive and he rolled out of the bed, his expression chilly. “Crew?”

  “Are you only concerned about getting Martinez?” He questioned, not looking at me. “Because so far that seems to be your main focus, not finding Deacon.”

  “I don’t know if Deacon is alive,” I told him bluntly. “But I know that if you have video evidence against Martinez then you have a target on your back now, and I’m not okay with that.”

  His back was still to me, and my hand hovered for a second, unsure if my touch would be welcome, before gently resting on his back. Some of the tension eased from him and he turned, grasping my hand. His expression threatened to break my heart as he curled himself around me and I wrapped my arms around him.

 

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