“Why would I think that’s crazy?” I asked in amusement, everything inside me relaxing at the excited way she described the place.
“It’s next to my parents’,” she replied, drawing the words out as she looked at me expectantly.
“Oh, hell,” I muttered, the full picture sinking in.
* * *
“You ready?” Casper asked, his eyes crinkling as I slid on a helmet.
“You could enjoy this a bit less,” I shot back. “I don’t know why you won’t let me take the truck.”
“We’re goin’ in on bikes,” he replied easily. “You forget how to ride?”
“You know I’ve got a bike in California,” I bit out, looking at the bike I was using. It was a piece of shit, no way around it. The thing was a restoration project of Grease’s and I seriously doubted its capabilities of getting me to the Free America Militia compound and back.
“Then this should do you fine,” Casper said as Grease strode up to stand beside him, both of them looking the bike over.
“That’s gonna be a fine piece of machinery,” Grease said with a sigh.
“It’s a piece of something,” I muttered under my breath.
“What’s that?” Grease asked. He was failing to hide the amusement in his expression.
“Is this some type of initiation or something?” I asked. “Because I’ve already dealt with this shit before when I was sixteen.”
“Think of it as a refresher course,” Grease replied.
“I don’t need a fuckin’ refresher course.”
“We’ll see,” Casper mused, glancing at Grease with a grin. He reached up and scratched his cheek, flexing his hand as he dropped it. He hadn’t said much when the highest ranking members of the Oregon Aces’ chapter had made a quick trip to Sacramento, but I’d known what happened when he’d come back with hands so swollen they’d resembled boxing gloves. I hadn’t been a part of that trip because I wasn’t a member of the Aces, but I’d been filled in enough to know that the leak in their organization had been taken care of. If I’d needed proof, all I’d had to do was look at Casper’s broken fingers to know that the man had gotten what was coming to him. If I knew the men that had raised me, he’d wished he was dead long before he actually was.
As Casper climbed on his bike and pulled on a pair of gloves, I grimaced. The thought of riding with hands that messed up sounded like torture, but Casper didn’t even seem to notice it. The man was unnaturally calm.
A few minutes later, I followed the group of bikes off the Aces’ forecourt headed south. Nearly the entire club was headed to the FAM compound in a show of force that would make any sane person shit themselves. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure how sane a bunch of skinhead doomsday preppers were.
Leo was still in the hospital, but from everything we’d heard, he was getting better. The skin grafts were doing well, and they’d only had to amputate his pinky and his ring finger at the top knuckle. He’d still be able to ride, which had been the biggest worry after we’d known he would live.
Cecilia and I hadn’t been back to the hospital since that first night. I didn’t have any reason to go, and though she knew she’d be welcome, she chose not to go, either. She still didn’t feel comfortable with the situation, even if some of the Aces thought she’d been redeemed.
The idea that she’d needed to be redeemed still pissed me off, but I kept it to myself. I wasn’t about to make things harder for her than I had to, and if that meant keeping my mouth shut—even to her—that’s what I’d do. She was staying close to our room, only venturing out to eat or spend time with her parents, and I was anxious to get us out of the clubhouse and into something permanent.
I watched grimly as Eli passed me on Tommy’s spare bike. Asshole. I knew there were other bikes that I could’ve ridden, but Grease and Casper seemed to be trying to make a point with the piece of shit that was currently shaking so hard it made my teeth rattle.
The ride was frigid as fuck, and by the time we made it to the large metal gate outside the militia compound, my hands, face and ass were all numb. I really hoped I wouldn’t have to draw my weapon because I wasn’t even sure I could.
“Blow the gate,” Dragon ordered as the bikes idled.
I watched, impressed, as Tommy laid a charge and cleanly blew the lock off the gate with minimal damage to the actual gate.
I kept my head on a swivel as we rode up the paved driveway in a massive column three bikes wide, but nothing was moving. The place was silent, which was seriously surprising considering the amount of people that we expected to be on the property. As we reached a cluster of large buildings, the hairs on the back of my neck bristled, and I glanced to my left where Eli was scanning our surroundings, deep in concentration.
We called Josiah the architect, because he had the uncanny ability to look at a building and know with surprising accuracy where the entry points were, and approximate dimensions of the rooms inside. For whatever reason, he could read buildings like they were people. For this part of the mission, though, we’d needed someone else to get the lay of the land, someone who could take it all in—the landscape, the buildings, the vehicles, anything relevant—and like Wilson, Eli had a photographic memory.
We stopped in front of the largest building that seemed to be the center of everything just as five men came strolling out the front door, carrying shotguns. It was hard not to roll my eyes at their posturing. I was pretty sure that they didn’t have anyone in the woods around us, but even if they did try some shit, there was no way any of the militia would make it out alive. Releasing the handlebars of the bike, I flexed my fingers as Dragon, Casper, and Grease finished what we’d come to do.
“What do you want?” the largest man asked. He was sporting a bald head that was too shiny to be shaved and a goatee that highlighted the jowls on each side of his face. The guy was massive. I couldn’t help but think he’d be an easy fucking target.
“You know who we are,” Dragon said calmly. “And we know what you’ve done.”
“We haven’t done shit,” a scrawnier guy spat, making the fat man signal with his hand to quiet him.
“Man, we know you took our truck,” Grease said in disgust. “Don’t be a fuckin’ moron.”
The fat man looked across the sea of bikes.
“You here to collect?” he asked, trying and failing to hide his fear. I could practically smell the sour stench of nervous sweat. “I wasn’t in charge then.”
“Nah,” Grease said. “Consider it paid in full.”
“What?” the fat man replied in confusion. If anything, he seemed even more afraid. God, this was a waste of fucking time and all of us knew it. Without Warren at the helm, these men were a bunch of pussies that didn’t even guard their gate.
I watched as Casper turned and pulled a game bag out of his saddlebags. He turned back toward the men, and with a flick of his wrist, emptied the bag.
One of the men on the porch started to wretch as Drake Warren’s rotting head rolled a few feet over the dirt before stopping face up. It was almost poetic.
“This is what happens when you come after one of ours,” Dragon said flatly. “In the future, you even hear our name whispered, you walk the other way.”
“We can do that,” the fat man said quickly, nodding his head.
“The baby and her mother are under my protection,” Dragon said, as if the man hadn’t even spoken.
“What?” Fat Man blustered.
“Under my protection,” Dragon reiterated. He looked at each man, one by one, until they’d all nodded that they understood him.
And just like that, Cecilia’s troubles were finally over.
As we started up the bikes again, the sound like the roar of a massive ocean wave, I looked up at the second story of the building and jerked as I noticed all the young faces peering out the windows.
“Eli,” I said quietly.
“I see ’em,” he replied. “Has to be at least twenty.”
It went against
everything in my gut to turn and ride away, but that was exactly what we did. We weren’t there on a rescue mission, and even if we had been, we didn’t have anywhere for those kids and their mothers to go. They’d have to wait, even if the thought of it made bile rise up the back of my throat.
“Soon,” I murmured underneath the bandana covering the lower half of my face.
I had somewhere else to be.
Chapter 27
Cecilia
Mark was sure that the Aces’ trip south to deal with the militia would go off without a hitch, but I still sat up the entire night worrying. I was getting restless in the clubhouse, the constant flow of people in and out left me struggling for some peace and quiet, and that night wasn’t any different. If anything, the place was even noisier with the guys gone because most of the women in my family were camped out, waiting for their fellas to return. I could hear their voices through the wall.
After nursing Olive and laying her back down to sleep, I carefully got off the bed and slipped my shoes on. Earlier in the night, I’d stayed in our room during dinner, assuming that I could go out to get some food after everyone was gone. Unfortunately, I didn’t think any of them had left.
The sound of voices and laughter greeted me as I walked into the hallway, leaving the bedroom door cracked so I could hear Olive if she woke up. Smoothing down my hair, I strode forward confidently, then froze in the archway between the hall and the main room.
My mother was dancing on the bar next to Tommy’s wife Heather, which wasn’t super out of character for either of them, but it was a struggle not to laugh and announce my presence because Heather was trying to teach my mom some kind of move that even I hadn’t seen before, and my mom was not getting it.
“I think you’re doing it wrong,” my mom said, shaking her head at Heather.
“I’m not doing it wrong,” Heather replied in exasperation. “I’m trying to show you how to do it. Look—” She swiveled her hips in some pattern that I couldn’t really figure out, but was impressive. Heather had moves, even when she was sober.
“I could do that,” Rose said, pointing.
“Don’t,” Mack said with a laugh, raising his beer to his lips. “I’m not watchin’ you do it while I’m sittin’ in the same room as your mother.”
“I’ll wait until we get home,” Rose teased, laughing as he reached over and slapped her ass.
“Maybe shift onto the other foot?” Aunt Callie called to my mom, ignoring her daughter and Mack.
“Shifting isn’t going to help,” my mom argued, waving Aunt Callie off.
I watched as Aunt Callie’s expression grew irritated, and I smiled as she got to her feet. I’d been watching the two of them my entire life—the way they played off of each other, supported each other without reservation, even if they knew the other one was wrong, and loved each other as much, if not more, than they loved their spouses—and I knew that Aunt Callie was about to school my mom.
“Like this,” Aunt Callie said in exasperation, copying Heather’s moves almost exactly.
“Oh, come on,” Rose complained, covering her eyes as Lily whooped in encouragement.
“I don’t think I should be seeing this,” Molly said, her eyes widening. She was listing to the side a little and braced her elbow against the table. “You’re like my mother.”
My mom hooted. “Grease is gonna loooooove that,” she said in glee.
“Get off the bar,” Aunt Callie shot back, picking up her drink. “You’re gonna fall and break your hip, and I’m not wiping your ass for you when you do.”
“Lies,” my mom countered, hopping off the bar with the agility of someone far younger. Even watching her do it made my joints ache. She laughed. “You’d wipe my ass.”
“Can we not talk about wiping asses?” Heather asked, climbing down much slower.
“Why?” my mom said, turning to look at Heather. “You have some problem with poop?”
Heather pressed her lips together firmly.
“Is it the smell?” my mom asked contemplatively. “Or the consistency? I mean, I’m regular, so—”
My hiding spot was blown as Heather raced past me toward the bathroom.
“Hey, what are you doing over there?” Molly asked. “Come sit down, we’ve got plenty of seats.” She giggled.
I had to admit, it was impossible not to like Molly, especially when she’d been drinking.
“You guys are loud,” I said as I moved toward them. “Does no one sleep around here?”
“I don’t know what I did wrong,” my mom said, throwing her arm around my shoulders as I reached her. “Cecilia goes to bed at nine and this one—” she pointed jokingly at Lily, swirling her finger in a circle. “Won’t even have a beer with me.”
“You know I have to be able to drive if Poet calls from the hospital,” Lily said, rolling her eyes.
“She’s a lightweight,” my mom said in exasperation. “How did this happen?”
Aunt Callie laughed. “How did you end up with the good kids and I ended up with the delinquents? It makes zero sense.”
“Hey,” Rose cried. “One of your delinquents is sitting right here.”
“Speaking of kids—ours are fine, but we owe Amy a spa day for keeping them,” Trix said as she came into the room with Brenna.
“Got a hang up from Dragon. They’re less than an hour out,” Brenna added.
“You got that from a hang up?” Molly asked in confusion.
“We have a system,” Brenna replied with a smile.
“Oh,” Molly breathed. “That’s smart.”
“We’ve been together a long time,” Brenna said indulgently.
“Hell, I can tell what Cody needs by the way he walks,” my mom said with a shrug.
“Don’t,” me and Lily said at the same time. Lily slapped her hands over her ears.
My mom laughed like a hyena.
“I don’t get it,” Molly said. As my mom’s insinuation sunk in, she turned a horrified shade of red. “Oh.”
“How’re you doing?” Brenna asked me as my mom moved away, saying something to Aunt Callie.
“I’m okay,” I said, shooting her a smile.
“Yeah?” she asked, tilting her head a little as she looked at me. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” I replied, growing a little uncomfortable with the scrutiny.
She jerked her head a little toward the bar and I followed her over. As we sat down on the old barstools, we turned to face the group.
“The minute we turn our backs to them, they’ll think we’re talking about something interesting,” she said dryly. “If we face them, they won’t even pay attention.”
I laughed at the accuracy of her statement.
“I heard what you did for Leo,” she said, and I groaned silently. I didn’t want to talk about it or even think about it ever again.
“I’m glad he’s going to be okay,” I replied.
“You haven’t been to the hospital,” she said.
“I’m not your son’s favorite person,” I explained simply.
Brenna laughed, the sound low. “You have zero idea of the affect you have on people,” she said. “It’s a trip.”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” I replied. “I’m one conversation away from being on the outs again.”
“You really think that?” she asked in surprise. “You do. Huh.”
I didn’t respond as I watched Heather join the group again, her face no longer pale and sweaty. She laughed at something Molly said and urged her to her feet. They danced across the room.
“How much do you know about when I came home?” Brenna asked. “I’m sure you’ve heard the story.”
“You were the returning princess,” I said, turning my head to look at her profile. Her hair was curly and wild, and she’d pulled it back into a high ponytail, making her look at least twenty years younger than she was.
“Not hardly,” Brenna replied. “I came home with Trix, who Dragon hadn’t even known existe
d, and I brought back a load of trouble with me. Trouble that got your dad shot.”
“I know about that,” I said.
“Well, you probably don’t know that your Grandpa Slider pretty much told me that if I chose to leave the club’s property, I was on my own against anyone that held a grudge against the club,” she said quietly. “And that I wouldn’t be allowed to take Trix with me.”
“What?” I said, jerking in surprise. I couldn’t even contemplate that kind of threat. “He did what?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a huff. “Pop sided with him, too. With the club. God, I felt betrayed.”
“With good reason,” I blurted.
“It took a while,” she said, her eyes unfocused. “But I got it.”
“I don’t,” I replied.
“I’d already taken off once and betrayed Dragon in the process,” she said, looking at me. “They were saving me from myself, even if it didn’t look that way at the time.”
She seemed sure, so I didn’t argue. It still sounded supremely fucked up to me. I’d kill anyone that tried to take Olive from me, and that included my dad. I couldn’t even imagine my dad putting me in that position, though. I’d always considered his loyalty to me absolute—he may not always like me, but he’d never go against me.
“Leo’s a lot like my pop,” she said as we watched the shenanigans happening in the center of the room. “He’s loyal to the extreme, but he also has very stubborn ideas about how things should go.”
“Yeah.”
“He doesn’t hate you, CeeCee,” she said quietly.
“He doesn’t like me, either.”
“He loves you,” she said, and I scrunched up my face in horror, making her scoff. “Not like that, idiot. He’s in love with your sister to the point of obsession. But you’re family. You’ve always been family, and you’ll always be family.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“If he didn’t consider you family, he wouldn’t give a fuck what you did, or who you decided to be with,” she pointed out. “He remembers how it was after Woody left you, and he’s not going to forgive him for it—or agree with you going back to him.”
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