by Naomi West
Chapter Twenty
I hated using crutches, but I also agreed with the doctors that I didn't want to reopen my leg wound, and that meant hobbling around and keeping myself mostly immobile for at least another week. Really, I just wanted to get back out there on my bike, letting the speed and the wind wipe away all my frustrations and anger and pain.
“All right, are you sure you're comfortable there?” Halley asked, adjusting the pillows behind me for the umpteenth time. She frowned critically at my setup on the couch and shook her head. “That doesn't look very comfortable,” she said.
“It's fine,” I insisted, rolling my eyes even though I was secretly amused by her antics and appreciative of her efforts to take care of me.
“Okay,” Halley said doubtfully.
“Look, I have to talk to you about something,” I told her the real reason I'd asked her to pick me up from the hospital.
“Let me make you some soup first,” she said, already moving towards the kitchen. “I've got chicken noodle, tomato bisque, cream of—”
“I'm not sick,” I interrupted. This time, I couldn't keep the amusement off my face. “I mean, I was shot in the leg—I don't have the flu. I don't need to eat soup for every meal.”
“I know,” Halley said matter-of-factly. “But I also know that they're still pumping you through with painkillers, so I thought it might be easier for you to drink a little soup and not worry about cutlery. And then you could go back to sleep and rest, which is what you're supposed to be doing, even if you're not sick.”
She had a valid point, if I was being honest. It wasn't that I couldn't use my hands, but my fingers seemed to always be a little longer than I expected or otherwise just strange feeling.
“Fine,” I said. “Soup would be great. Whatever kind you want.” I then waited impatiently for her to return with the meal so that we could talk. The thing was, I had to tell her about Max and about Emilio's threat. I had to get her and Cole to someplace safe until I was strong enough to protect them myself.
“What's wrong?” she asked as she came back into the room, sensing my unhappiness. “Does something hurt?” And there she was, at it again with the stupid pillows.
I shrugged her hands away. “I'm fine,” I told her gruffly. “I just...”
Halley frowned at me and slowly sank down to sit on the coffee table. I reached over and laid a hand on her knee, closing my eyes and turning my face up towards the ceiling because I couldn't bear to see her reaction to the danger that I'd put our son in.
“Emilio Alvarez came to visit me while I was in the hospital,” I told her. “If you haven't heard his name yet, he's the leader of the Holy Flames MC, one of our rival clubs. Our most powerful rival club here in the city.”
“Okay,” Halley said slowly.
“The club that we planned the raid on,” I explained deliberately. “The raid where I was just shot.”
I couldn't help cracking open an eye to see Halley's expression when she gave no verbal clue of what she was thinking. She was frowning, but she didn't look too upset — yet.
“What did he want with you?” she asked slowly. “Obviously, he didn't hurt you or anything; the doctors would have noticed if he had done something like that.”
I inclined my head towards her, acknowledging the truth of that. “He came to threaten me,” I told her. “And he came to…” I frowned, head falling back again as I took a deep breath. “He wants to take over the Devil's Route MC.”
“Well, of course he does,” Halley said, shrugging a little. “Isn't that what all of you guys want, to get more territory and income and whatever else? But—”
“Wait,” I told her. “You haven't heard the whole story.” Halley obediently fell silent. I rubbed at the bridge of my nose. “He wants me to either disband Devil's Route or else to let the Flames peacefully absorb our members into their ranks. I can't let either of those things happen, of course, not when Frank worked so hard to get the club to this point, and not when our values are so completely different from the Flames' values. But if I don't choose between these two options, Emilio has ... threatened you and Cole.”
Halley stood abruptly, looking absolutely livid. “And what, you'd rather choose your drinking buddies over me and Cole? I'm sorry, but—”
“They aren't my drinking buddies,” I snapped. “A motorcycle club is a brotherhood. I've known most of these guys since I was a fucked-up teenager, and they helped me — along with Frank — to grow into the man that I am today. They've always been there for me, and it wouldn't be fair for me to turn my back on them, not when we're all still reeling with the loss of Frank, not when they're depending on me to lead them. As Max said, I now have a conflict of interest that maybe is clouding my judgement, but I'm trying my best to be rational here.”
Halley stared at me for a long moment, her chest heaving, and then finally sank back down onto the table. “Okay,” she said, her voice small. “So, I guess Cole and I will just have to look out for ourselves.”
“Believe me, Halley, if I were strong enough to protect the two of you, I'd be right there at your side through all of this,” I told her fiercely. “But the problem is this whole...” I gestured towards my leg.
“Why can't the club continue to protect us?” Halley asked.
I shook my head. “Because too much is happening at the moment,” I told her truthfully. “I can't justify tying up club resources, and more than that, I'm not sure how people would view that, in light of recent events. Of course, Frank's death had nothing to do with you, but with everyone still reeling from that, there are bound to be some people who are looking to blame anything they can.”
Halley shook her head in disbelief. “That's not fair,” she said. “I had nothing to do with that!”
“No, but Max was involved in Frank's death,” I told her grimly. “At least, that's what Emilio tells me and I believe him. And Max was the most vocal opposition when I asked for the Devil's Route to have men guard you and Cole because he was afraid of what would happen if we diverted our resources. And look what's happened.”
Halley bit her lower lip. “So, what do you suggest we do?” she asked. “Hire a private security force?”
“I don't even know if that would help,” I admitted honestly. “What you have to remember is that the Holy Flames MC has been in operation for a very long time, and they know a thing or two about picking off people. Instead, I want you and Cole — and your parents too, probably — to go far, far away, until all of this blows over. I'm going to try to talk to Emilio and convince him that he doesn't actually want to do this, but I need you to—”
“You can't go talk to Emilio,” Halley said tearfully, reaching out a hand towards me, lacing her fingers in mine. “The last thing I want is to be halfway across the country and find out that you've been killed as well.”
I sighed, closing my eyes because I knew I needed to remain strong despite her tears. “Halley, it's not like we really have options in this situation. Emilio has already threatened to do something — although he didn't say what — against you. And there's Max to consider as well. And then there's Devil's Route as a whole.” I took a deep breath before saying the words I really didn't want to say: “I'm not asking you to leave. I'm telling you that you have to leave, and to distance yourself from me as much as possible. I'm not even sure we can chat or—”
“But I just got you back,” Halley protested. “I spent so many years—”
“I know,” I said gently. “But Halley, you have to see that this is the only way. For your safety, and for Cole's. God, it would kill me if anything were to happen to the two of you because of the choices that I've made in life.”
After a long moment, Halley nodded and squeezed my hand. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. My parents and I will take Cole away for a little while. We'll go on a sort of vacation. But the minute anything happens, you have to let me know, all right? And I understand what you're saying about not chatting and all, but I need you to check in with me fro
m time to time, okay? Just so that I know that you're still...”
“Okay,” I agreed, even though I knew the smartest thing would be to cut all contact with them, so that Emilio and his goons wouldn't be able to track where she was. But I couldn't leave her with nothing. It was bad enough that I had gotten her into this mess to start with.
Halley stared at me for a long moment and then suddenly switched positions, until she was lying there on the couch with me, her back pressed against my chest. There wasn't really room for both of us there, but I wasn't about to push her away. I was just glad that she was mindful of my injury and left some space there.
“I'll miss you,” she told me, her voice the barest of whispers.
I lightly kissed her hair, unable to say anything more.
Chapter Twenty-One
I was the last person to hobble into our meeting at headquarters, and I was already kind of exhausted when I finally make it there. I never really realized how many flights of stairs the place had or how big it was. Then again, I never knew that just walking somewhere would really take it out of me like this.
“You're looking like shit, boss,” Bryce said as I collapsed into my usual chair next to him. He was grinning teasingly, but I wondered how I must look to all of them. Weak, probably. Pathetic.
My eyes found Max's, and I could see something, some confirmation, there in that little smirk of his. And shit, I just wanted to kill the fucker. To whip out a gun and put a bullet right there between those smug-looking eyes. He wouldn't even see it coming. I wondered if he knew that I knew he was behind Frank's death. I wondered if he realized that his own death would be coming shortly, at my hands.
But if he knew anything, it didn't show on his face, and as stupid as the man was, I bet I would know it the second he realized something was up.
I suddenly realized everyone was staring at me, and it took me a moment to figure out why. “Oh,” I said, clearing my throat a little. “I guess I, uh, call this meeting to order.”
I was embarrassed at that start to my leadership, but I could see a few smiles around the table, mostly from the older guys. They were probably imagining what I must be going through right now, or thinking about what they would have been like as leaders of one of the top motorcycle clubs in the area at my young age. It was only the younger ones who saw it as a sign of my weakness and uncertainty, who saw it as a chink in the armor.
“Look, if this is another meeting about your fiancée and your kid—” Max started, that familiar sneer on his face.
“Actually, this meeting's about you, Max,” I told him, giving him a fierce scowl. And for a moment — just for a moment — I could see a little flicker of hesitation on his face.
But then he was back to his usual, flippant self. “Oh really?” he said. He looked around the table, grinning. “What, you've finally decided to go along with my birthright rather than going along with what Frank said in his delusion? You're going to make me leader of the Devil's Route?”
It was my turn to sneer at him. “Far from it,” I told him. “Instead, I plan to expose you for the lying snake that you are.”
“Oh really?” Max said, but again, I could sense that hesitation, that uncertainty.
I looked around the table, making sure that I made eye contact with everyone who mattered. “I'm sure it goes without saying that we'd all like to find Frank's killer and murder the man,” I said, and I was happy to see a number of nods around the table. “Well, Max may not be the one who pulled the trigger in the end, but you can believe that he played a key part in the man's death. Emilio says Max was the one who ordered the hit.”
A murmur rose up from the table, and I let everyone talk things out for a moment. I didn't want anyone to feel as though I was pressuring them into believing that Max was the culprit here, but with just a little time, I knew they'd be thinking back over all of Max's actions surrounding the raid and those events that had directly preceded it. They would draw the same conclusions that I had always had: that Max would truly stop at nothing to get the position that he really wanted, as leader of the Devil's Route MC.
“Emilio Alvarez tells me that he and Max have a sort of agreement,” I continued. “Where Max finally gets to be leader of the Devil's Route and they work in conjunction with the Holy Flames. The only problem with that plan, as it currently stands, is that I'm still alive. They didn't manage to kill me when they killed Frank, and here I am, a thorn in their sides.” I finally turned to face Max, whose face was white with either fear or anger but I couldn't tell which. Maybe it was a combination of the two.
“You have no proof of any of this,” Max hissed, practically spitting with rage. He looked around the group. “None of you believe this bullshit, do you? This is my father that we're talking about here! What kind of person would I be if I could callously have the man murdered?”
“A power-hungry, failure of a—” Bryce began, but I laid a hand on his arm.
“Look, Max,” I said, shaking my head. “Unlike you, I'm a fair man, and I don't believe in taking a man's life when he hasn't got the chance to look out and defend himself. You must realize that you're a sitting duck here in our headquarters. So, I'm going to ask you to leave. But rest assured, your death is already on its way, and it won't be pretty.”
There was silence in the room. Then, Mike began to clap his hands—and other men joined in, until half the room was applauding what I'd said.
“That's the way to deal with your enemies,” Tom said approvingly. “Give them fair warning and let them do whatever they can to defend themselves.” He gave Max a look. “We don't just have them gunned down by rival clubs.”
“Your own father,” someone else said, and there was a hum of agreement with that.
I was glad we were all on the same page.
I narrowed my eyes at Max as he started to protest. “Get out,” I told him. “Or else I will reconsider my position.”
Max stared at me for a long moment, challenging me with his eyes. But finally, faced with the fact that the majority of the room was on my side, regardless of what little evidence I had, he had no choice but to get up and walk out. I hated the way he kept his chin held high, as though he had any right to call himself a man after what he'd done. But I'd get back at him eventually.
I looked back to the table. “Right now, we have bigger problems to focus on than Max,” I told them all grimly. “As I'm sure you can infer, the Holy Flames are trying their damnedest to take over our motorcycle club.” I wasn't about to tell them the specifics of what Emilio had said to me in the hospital, but I needed to gauge their feelings about all of this, as well as hear if any of them had any sort of solutions that I might not have thought of.
“They've always been trying their damnedest to take over our motorcycle club,” Joe said, snorting a little. “They've just never been much good at it before.”
“Well, they're doing much better lately,” I said grimly. “Of course, Max had a hand in Frank's murder, but that doesn't mean it was solely up to him. As I said, he wasn't the one to pull the trigger.”
“They've been making serious forays into our territory too,” Bryce spoke up. He glanced around. “No one really wanted to tell you this while you were in the hospital because of course we all just wanted for you to heal up. You were pretty shaky there for a while. But they've totally choked off our connection with our arms supplier. We have no positive revenue at the moment.”
I groaned and shook my head. “That's worse than I'd thought,” I said. “Does anyone have any brilliant ideas for how we're going to counter them? Because that's the other part of this. A large reason why they're being so successful in encroaching on our territory at the moment is because we're being stupid. That raid? What the hell was that?”
“Hang on, now, I don't think it was a total loss,” one of the younger guys, Danny, one of Max's close friends, protested.
“Oh really?” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him as I wondered just how close to Max he was, just what len
gths he would go to to defend the other man. Didn't he realize that it was time to change alliances, when Max was clearly on the outs? But no. Max hadn't picked any of those men for their brains. They blundered along behind him because they honestly didn't know what else to do.
But I wasn't about to let that comment slide. “You really don't think it was a total loss?” I asked. “The thing was a tactical nightmare. We had all of the top members of our organization all in the same place, at the same time, and on enemy territory, no less. We let them draw us into their complex, and they picked us off one by one. We're lucky not to have suffered greater casualties.”
“Amen,” Bryce muttered under his breath, but it seemed that a lot of people were echoing his sentiment, based on the number of nods I saw around the table.
And funny, to think that I had been the only vocal person voting against the raid before the whole thing had happened. Maybe that was our problem right there: we were too busy listening to the people and less busy listening to the ideas behind them. If we couldn't impassively make decisions on important things like dangerous raids, maybe it would be better to disband the club. We weren't acting like much of a brotherhood if we couldn't manage to keep our brothers safe.