Squatch (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 4)

by Candace Blevins

  I stared at him, taking a few seconds to fully comprehend what he was saying. I was horrified by the act, but still completely okay with Mike dying this way. He’d violated me — and other young teens — and enjoyed it, and now he’d die a humiliating death where he was horribly violated and couldn’t stop it. It was harsh, but I approved. I wasn’t sure I wanted to watch it, but I wasn’t going to argue for mercy for the bastard, either.

  “Okay. Thanks for explaining.”

  He leaned his head down and rested his forehead on mine. “I expected you to be horrified, and I find myself a little concerned that you aren’t, but the wolf is dancing and celebrating and high-fiving you inside me.”

  I chuckled. “I adore your wolf.”

  “The feeling is mutual, Kitten. We adore your tiger.”

  As much as I wanted to relax in his arms, there was something I needed to know. I climbed the steps, walked down the hallway, and climbed to the third floor. There were only two rooms up here, the two largest in the house, and they’d belonged to me and my oldest brother. I walked to the doorway to my room and looked inside. It was still my room.

  Squatch stood behind me and kissed the top of my head. “He was holding it for you, waiting for you to come home.”

  “This isn’t my home anymore. He should let one of my brothers have the room.”

  “How long do kids in the ambush live at home?”

  “Sometimes forever. If they move out, it’s usually when they have kids they’ll raise. Usually they stay home even when they have kids, though.”

  “Is there anything you’d like to get from your room?”

  I looked around and considered the question. There were a few things that meant something to me — artwork, awards, a pair of comfy pajamas — but they were all a part of the past I’d left behind, and I wanted it to stay in my rear view mirror. I couldn’t do that if I brought my past into my present.

  “No. We should go back downstairs and wait for His Majesty.”

  “Are there pictures of you as a girl?”

  I nodded. “Feel free to look through my room. There are albums on the bookshelf. Please leave the albums, but you can take pictures of the pictures, if you like. I have no secrets from you anymore.”

  When His Majesty brought my father home, I was frying five pounds of bacon and had three huge pans of meatloaf in the oven. I’d been bored and hungry, so I started cooking.

  “Did you lose someone on your way?” His Majesty asked.

  I shook my head. “He’s looking at old photo albums in my old bedroom. I told him to spend as much time looking through my room as he wanted. I have no more secrets from him.” I looked to my father. “You should let one of my brothers have the room. They probably resent that it’s being used for storage.”

  “It’s your bedroom, Val. You’ll be spending the night when you come for multiple days.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to stay in my old room.”

  “Then I will box everything up and put it away, and purchase a king-sized bed, so you and your wolf will have space when he comes with you. When you have a child or children of your own, we’ll arrange for sleeping space for them as well.”

  “You’ll have to take those bars off the windows if you want her to spend time in that room. Never again will anyone put my kitten in a cage.” Squatch’s body language was as non-threatening as it gets, leaned against the doorsill, and his voice was soft. If you didn’t know him as well as I did, you might not understand how close to homicidal his anger had pushed him. He’d clearly seen something in my room that set him off. Or perhaps he was still angry at hearing Mike discuss how much he’d enjoyed raping me.

  Daddy nodded to him. “I can do that as well, but I won’t apologize for protecting my child and making certain she didn’t get herself into trouble by sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

  “Never speak to me about protecting her again. You sent her into the arms of a sexual sadist and gave him permission to teach her how to take a cock down her throat and up her ass. If it wouldn’t tear the love of my life to pieces to see you die, I’d kill you now, politics be damned.”

  “You might try.” Daddy didn’t look scared. He looked like he’d enjoy a good fight to the death.

  “No more fights tonight,” His Majesty said. “Squatch, you’re fully justified in your feelings, but you’re also right that Val can’t handle losing her father right now. The food smells good, let’s sit and eat. I can’t leave until my backup gets here — the lion I’m bringing in to act as my proxy, in charge until the ambush can install another system of government and elect their people.”

  Squatch didn’t move. “I can’t sit at a table and eat a meal with him right now. I’ll wait outside.”

  “No,” His Majesty said, and turned to Daddy. “This is no longer your house. I’ll talk to your sons and daughter about whether to sell it and split the proceeds between them, or whether to put it in a trust and allow your sons to continue living here. All your assets will go to your children. Mike Gowd’s assets will be divided and given to the girls he violated. I’m allowing you to live, but not in the ambush, and I’m stripping you of all assets. Go to your room and pack your clothes. I’ll permit you to remove two suitcases of items from your bedroom, but not from other areas of the house. Clothes and personal effects, but nothing of value. I’ll escort you from the grounds once you’ve packed.”

  Daddy wanted to argue with him, but seemed to realize it would be a horrible idea, and he walked to his bedroom without a word.

  I scooped the bacon onto a platter designed to funnel the oil away as it dripped off, settled it on the table, and pulled the pans of meatloaf from the oven.

  “Squatch,” said His Majesty, “please have a seat and eat with us.”

  “I don’t know you that well, Your Highness, but I have a feeling you don’t allow yourself to get this angry often.”

  “An astute observation.” His Majesty looked from Squatch to me. “If you didn’t already have a life built elsewhere, I’d want to make you the head of the new ruling counsel. I don’t think you’ll accept it, so I haven’t offered it, but should you want to, you only need to tell me.”

  I shook my head. “No. My home is in Birmingham now, and Squatch is my family.” I took a breath and added, “Rolling Thunder is my family now.”

  He nodded. “I’m friends with many in the Chattanooga chapter, so I understand how deep the connection runs. It was founded by wolves, and that loyalty is still the lifeblood, no matter they’ve allowed other species to join in recent years.”

  I met his gaze, which I couldn’t remember doing before. I probably had, but I hadn’t done it with purpose, and this was too important not to look him in the eye. “I think I want to take you up on the offer of helping add water to Mike’s enema. Part of me says he’ll die whether I help or not, but I think that if I don’t, I’ll always wish I had. It feels important that he knows I helped violate him, and that I approve of the method of his death. It’s cold and heartless and brutal, and it fits. Thank you for coming up with it.”

  I gave Squatch a pointed look when I set his plate and silverware out, and he finally sat at the table. I turned and His Majesty was closer than I expected, and I gasped when he took my hand in both of his. “I honor the warrior within you, Valentina Olivia Aurelio.”

  I had no idea what to say. It felt like there was a response, something everyone should know, but my father hadn’t raised me to be a warrior.

  Squatch answered for me, from his seat at the table. “My kitten honors the warrior within you as well, Your Majesty, and she appreciates being seen.”

  “Yes,” I told the Lion King with a smile. “What he said. I honor the warrior inside you, but also the leader who seems to understand what his people need. Please, have a seat and eat with us. You don’t need an invitation, but I feel the need to make sure you know you’re welcome, so I’m giving it.”

  He pulled my chair out, I sat, and then he final
ly sat as well. “Thank you for realizing we’d need food. How are you holding up?”

  “It isn’t the way I expected the solstice celebration to go,” I told him, “but I can’t say I’m disappointed. I wanted to kill Mike with my bare hands, but I couldn’t. Even if I’d had the physical strength and fighting ability to pull it off, we were trapped under the stupid safe passage rules.”

  “Those rules aren’t stupid, they’re some of our most important. A mark of honor and civilized behavior.” He gave me a warm smile. “But I understand your meaning. Mike took advantage of the rules. Something he apparently excels at, but he won’t have an opportunity to do so again.”

  I told him what I’d learned about the tracking chips put into the women and girls. His Majesty looked pissed, but he merely nodded and told me it would be handled.

  We were silent while we all ate. We were all halfway through our plates when His Majesty broke the silence to say, “Mike Gowd will be executed an hour after sunset tomorrow evening. The timing is a courtesy to any vampires who wish to witness, though it shouldn’t have mattered, since I’m not announcing it nor will I be inviting anyone outside the Ambush.” He looked to Squatch, and then to me. “Despite this, I have a voicemail from Brooke, letting me know she’ll attend.”

  I hadn’t realized how stressed I was until I heard Brooke was coming, and then something in my gut relaxed. Everyone else was probably creeped out and unhappy about her promised arrival, but I was glad she’d be there.

  The King of the Lions raised an eyebrow. “Not the reaction I was expecting.” He looked at Squatch. “She’s relieved and you’re pleased.”

  “Kitty trusts her, and I guess I do, too. Also, I believe Brooke had planned to find a way to get to Mike. She’s been in Kitty’s head, which means she knows exactly what he did to Kitty, and I’m honestly surprised the asshole is still alive. It’s possible she just couldn’t work the logistics out to fly here and get into the ambush without raising suspicions and setting off more of a war than she was prepared to deal with. She doesn’t manage her anger well around those who abuse children, especially the sexual predators. It will do her good to see him die in the manner you’ve pronounced.”

  “I see your point. The question becomes, what do the two of you want to do in the next twenty hours? I can fly you home in a few hours, and I’m certain Brooke will give you a ride back, but I can also have someone take you to a hotel in Myrtle Beach.”

  I was about to ask him to take us home when Squatch said, “You should be here to help with the members of the ambush who need to see you instead of your proxy. If you could give us a ride to a nearby town, someone from the Wilmington RTMC chapter can pick us up and take us to their clubhouse. I’d already made a phone call to set things up, in the event we needed help. Plus, it gets us out of South Carolina for the day.”

  I looked at him in surprise. I’d had no idea there was even a chapter so close, much less the fact Squatch had talked to them. I was immediately worried about the safety of the ambush, and he must’ve seen it in my eyes. “They don’t know where we are. Only that I’m near Myrtle Beach with my girlfriend, visiting her estranged family.”

  In reality, we were over an hour away by car, not that close to Myrtle Beach, but near enough he hadn’t lied. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Thanks for thinking ahead to keep us safe.”

  “I’d feel better if you have your own transportation, but flying you to the Wilmington MC compound will bring up questions you won’t want to answer. Plus, I’m not certain Kitty will willingly get back into the ’copter.”

  “I will if I have to, but I admit I’ll be happier if it isn’t necessary.”

  Nathan put his fork down and ate a piece of bacon, clearly considering the best option. “I’ll fly you to the airport and arrange for a rental car, so you can drive to the compound from there. You’ll be at risk on the drive from the airport to the compound, but no one will know where you are, so the risk should be minimal.”

  “We can turn the rental car in at whichever airport Brooke will be landing tomorrow, and we can ride to the execution with her. Since she’s coming, I assume you won’t do it in the ambush.”

  “Correct. The women who’ll be attending will be told to dye their hair today. The leader of the pride in Wilmington is arranging space for us on a farm about twenty miles inland from the ambush compound. Gowd will be fed to the pigs once he’s dead.” His gaze met mine and I saw the man more than the king. I can’t explain the difference, but it was clearly there. “I’m opposed to torture for torture’s sake, but I’ve never been slow to kill when a situation warranted it. I’m making a clear example of Mike Gowd because of his particular crimes. Some of the girls and women I’ve met this evening are his victims, but I’d never call you that. You survived him. Kirsten wanted me to let you know she’s available to talk to you anytime.”

  He took another breath and he was the Amakhosi, King of the Lions, once more. “I want to let you know that I need to remain your king in order to get through this, but that once we’re beyond the execution, I hope we can be friends as well.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Squatch

  Downtown Wilmington is mostly three-story buildings without space between, lining the streets.

  The President of the Wilmington chapter had us drive our rental car to a bar down the street from the one they owned. We went into that bar, had a drink while we made sure no one had followed us, and then walked to the Club Bar and Grill just down the street. We were ushered into the back, down some steps, through a tunnel, up some steps, down a hall, and into a studio apartment. I handed the rental car’s keys to the VP, and he parked it in a paid lot near a high-dollar hotel. Because we were staying under the radar, only the Pres, VP, and Sergeant-at-Arms knew we were here. I wanted to introduce Kitty to my Wilmington brothers, but it was best we lay low.

  The chapter owned this apartment building, and we were in an empty unit. No one would see us here.

  Neither of us had brought our phones, but I had a burner with our app on it. I contacted Mad Dog and updated him, and then undressed my kitten.

  “I need a shower.” She was physically and emotionally exhausted, but she hadn’t let it show until we were behind closed doors.

  “We both do. It isn’t that big, so you first.”

  She was asleep when I got out of the shower, and I managed to get into bed without disturbing her. I woke several times through the night, but Kitty slept like a log until just after noon the next day. She awoke starving, and I’d been told to call the VP when we needed food — they’d left a menu with his phone number as well as how to access him on the app. I used the app, just to be safe.

  When I hung up, Kitty told me, “I can’t wear the same outfit I wore last night. What does one wear to an execution? It’s at a farm, so I’m assuming jeans and boots, but I may have to make do with my sandals, which means I’d rather wear something besides jeans, but not a pretty summer-dress.”

  I closed my eyes and considered the logistics of taking her shopping, because her expression clearly told me I wasn’t going to convince her otherwise. She grabbed the phone and pulled up a map of the area surrounding the first bar we’d gone in, and I was pleased she’d been smart enough not to focus her search around the club’s bar. This gave her the same basic map, after all.

  “There’s a vintage clothing store within a short walk,” she said. “No one knows we’re here. It should be safe.”

  We stock guest rooms with sweatpants and t-shirts back home — common courtesy when you’re hosting shifters. I walked to the closet, opened it, and smiled when I saw shelves labeled by size and gender. I tossed her a pair of white sweatpants in extra-small and a pink t-shirt in size small, and she shook her head. “Let’s do a medium on the shirt today, so my boobs aren’t on display. We’re trying to blend in, not pop out.”

  I looked at the boobs we were discussing and my cock stirred. She was probabl
y right, so I tossed her a medium and refolded the small.

  “You should change out the black shirt for a charcoal,” she said. “So we’re both in different colors than yesterday. Are those hats available for our use, too?”

  I tossed her a khaki colored, floppy-brimmed hat, and looked through the available men’s shirts. She was right about my not wearing black, which left charcoal, navy, or white. A navy-colored baseball cap said DIVE INSTRUCTOR, so I grabbed it along with a navy t-shirt, and changed my mind about her shirt.

  “Back to a small for you,” I told her. “We want them looking at the dive instructor’s girlfriend’s boobs, and not her face.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, okay. We can use your knife to cut the sweatpants into shorts, and I see a bunch of cheap flip-flops in the closet. Do they have a size seven?”

  The vintage store did, indeed, have clothes Kitty deemed appropriate for attending and possibly assisting with an execution. She found a silky looking black stretchy miniskirt, and a black corset with a few strategically placed mesh panels so it would work even in a South Carolina summer. The corset wasn’t vintage, it was brand new and expensive, but I carry plenty of cash, especially when I’m out of town, so I bought it for her. Instead of promising to pay me back, which would’ve pissed me off, she pulled me down so she could reach my face and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you. You’ll lace me up before we leave, and it’ll be like your hands holding me all night, even if you aren’t right beside me.”

  My heart actually skipped at her words. Never before had a woman touched me so deeply with her trust and her love. I wanted to scoop her up into a giant hug, but she was gone before I could, looking at necklaces and bracelets.