Zion stared at me for a moment, and then turned and walked away without speaking.
Chapter 13
ZION HADN’T GONE looking for a fight in years. He had enough with his job that he didn’t need to find some idiot to let off steam. Since he’d left Red, he’d spent several hours simply riding. After he’d crossed Williamsville several times and followed a few dirt roads that weren’t meant for Harleys, he headed to his apartment. If not for his responsibilities, he would’ve gone for a long ride like he had in his teenage years, but he was never too far for Echo to reach now.
Red might not see it, but Zion was responsible—and that was the problem. Leaving the club, even briefly, would feel like ripping his lungs out, but if that was what it took to have her, he’d talk to Echo. If it came down to it, he couldn’t swear that he could give up the Wolves for her. They’d raised him. That wasn’t something to walk away from. On the other hand, it was reason enough that they might let him walk without pain. Membership was for life, but maybe Echo would be understanding.
Or maybe Zion should just let her go.
The very idea of walking away without seeing what could come of their connection renewed his need to break something. Aubrey was special. He knew it, and he wasn’t sure he could walk away.
“Should’ve known better.” He tossed the keys on the table as soon as he was inside. “Idiot.”
He let out a growl and hit the wall of his apartment before he realized Echo was sitting in a chair in the living room. The older biker announced his presence by asking, “What’s got into you, boy?”
If he had been anyone else, Zion would’ve punched him for asking—and for being in the apartment. Eddie Echo wasn’t anyone else, though. He was the man Zion had most wanted to impress growing up, the man he’d wanted to become, and the man he’d sworn to serve.
“Nothing.” Zion jerked the fridge open, willing his temper to cool.
“Grab me one.”
Mutely, Zion pulled out two longneck bottles, opened them, and walked over to Echo.
“It’s not about work,” Zion told him as he flopped onto the worn sofa.
Echo’s voice was deceptively soft when he asked, “Are you telling me to mind my own business, Killer?”
“No.”
“So talk.”
“I was stupid. That’s all.” Zion took a pull of his beer. “No consequences. No trouble. Nothing that reflects poorly on the club.”
Echo watched him for almost a full minute. That tactic worked on most people. Silent stares tended to invite confessions, but Zion had been on the receiving end of those stares since he was a kid.
“When are you going to stop trying that on me?”
“When it stops working,” Echo said.
“Like hell it works.”
Echo raised one brow. It was another familiar look—one that was all the more common because Zion had seen it in his own mirror. No one called Echo his father aloud—or if they did, they certainly hadn’t done it in front of Zion. Still, he suspected they all knew the same fact he’d figured out on his own: Eddie Echo was very obviously his father.
“So, girl troubles,” Echo announced. “The new girl at the bar or someone else?”
Zion sighed. “Do I do anything you don’t know about?”
“Do you see a need to keep things from me?” Echo’s voice grew gentle, at least as gentle as Echo could be, and he said, “You’re my right hand, Killer. It’s never been a secret that I have plans for you. That means I pay attention.”
Zion felt like a jerk. He was grateful that he had Echo’s respect and trust. Being valuable to the club president—to his father—was what had given Zion focus for years. Until Aubrey, he hadn’t wanted anything more in his life.
“Yes, it’s her. Aubrey.” He looked at Echo. “You already know about what happened at the fair?”
“My most trusted punching Sheriff Patterson’s kid over a girl?” Echo drawled. “Yeah, that tidbit made its way to me.”
“Right.” Zion took another swallow of his drink. “I didn’t figure on seeing her again, stayed clear of her when I realized who her gran was . . . Then she took a job at the bar.”
“That was the plan.”
Zion blinked at him. “The . . . what?”
“Bitty’s girl is in one of her classes. I asked her to reach out to Aubrey.” Echo shrugged. “I wanted information. It turned out she needed a job, so Bitty’s daughter took the initiative and sent her out to Wolves.”
Zion couldn’t say he was truly surprised. If there was anything that Echo needed to know, there were any number of people he could call upon. The town of Williamsville was well looked after by the Wolves. They kept order far better than the sheriff did—which meant that folks trusted Echo enough to do what he asked when he called in a favor. A lot of people thought ill of bikers, but even those who did couldn’t deny that Wolves took care of their own. Echo kept the town safe, and he looked over it as if he were a warlord yanked out of history. His territory was important, and his subjects mattered. Perhaps his methods were crude sometimes, and admittedly the club had less-than-legal income streams, but no one could accuse the Wolves of being bad for the citizens of Williamsville.
Zion was usually proud of their role in town, but this time, he felt betrayed. “So you had Uncle Karl hire her to keep her out of my reach? That’s a new level of cockblocking.”
Any remaining gentleness in Echo fled at that remark. “Watch your mouth, boy. You might’ve gotten a lot better with those little fists of yours, but I can remind you of your manners if you need a lesson.”
Zion ducked his head. If they’d been in public when he’d mouthed off, he’d be bleeding now, but even though Echo had never openly claimed him as a son, he was often kind to Zion in private. Both Zion and Dash had a lot more leeway than the older bikers. It didn’t mean they’d escaped bloodied mouths and black eyes all the time, but Echo was more patient with them than he was with anyone else.
“I sent Bitty’s girl to check her out—both because of Maureen and because of you.” Echo met and held Zion’s gaze. “You have far too many secrets in that thick head of yours to have them spilled because you were caught up by a piece of ass—”
“She’s not—”
“You know better than to interrupt me,” Echo spoke over him.
Zion nodded.
“As I said, I needed to get your piece of tail checked out because I’ve never seen you act like this.” He shook his head. “Do you think I didn’t know you drove past her house more than a few times? That you risked trouble with the sheriff over her? Think, boy. What if she was undercover?”
“She’s not,” Zion said. “She’s Mrs. E.’s granddaughter.”
Echo sighed. “Which you didn’t know when you got into it with Sheriff Patterson’s boy, but it is precisely why you have my blessing. Karl’s rules at the bar make good sense, but I can overrule them for you.” Before Zion could thank him, Echo snatched up his beer again and drained it. “Now, if you’re done whining over a girl, I need you to arrange security on the run down south to pick up supplies. Drop them. Bring the payroll up. Skeeter, Big Eddie, and Theo will go with you.”
For a moment, Zion considered explaining that the fact that he was about to go along for security on a drug run was precisely why Red was out of his reach. Then he realized that their personal talk wasn’t really personal. It was about Echo reminding him of his responsibilities if he was going to get involved with someone—and letting him know that Aubrey was cleared.
“When do we leave?”
“Morning.”
Zion nodded. “I’ve got it.”
“See that you do.” Echo stood and leveled a hard stare at him. “Nothing wrong with having a woman, but don’t forget where your loyalty belongs. Make sure she understands what it means to be your old lady if you decide to keep her.”
Zion nodded. Echo wasn’t saying anything new, but that sort of mind-set wasn’t one that would work for a woman like
Red. He was loyal to his family, proud to be a Wolf, but he’d never wanted the responsibility of an old lady. He’d seen too many fights and too much nonsense to think relationships were worth the hassle. Maybe the problem was that the sort of woman who’d be okay with being second place to his family wasn’t the right sort. He didn’t want to put Aubrey above the Wolves, but he wanted her as an equal to them. Unfortunately, he didn’t see either her or them being okay with that plan.
Chapter 14
THINKING ABOUT ZION was a bad idea. I’d known it before he’d spent the day with me, and I knew it now. After he’d left earlier, I busied myself planning—and baking. I needed to focus on things I could manage, and with classes and work under control, that meant figuring out who was targeting the neighborhood and why.
The sheriff hadn’t done anything, and I kept thinking back to his son saying my grandmother’s neighborhood wasn’t safe. Maybe Quincy knew more, or maybe he was just in a temper. Maybe I was just desperate for a clue. Either way, I needed help from someone who knew the locals. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the best I had. The sheriff had been useless. The only other people I knew were Zion, Ellen, and Noah—and I didn’t think any more entanglement with Zion was wise. That left me with seeking out Ellen or Noah, and I had to do that somewhere other than the bar.
I called Ellen, and after chatting for a few moments, I asked, “Where would I find Noah?”
On the other end of the line, Ellen grew silent.
“I have questions,” I clarified.
“So ask me.” There was something off in her voice, or maybe I didn’t know her that well yet.
“Please? Where can I find him? I can wait till class, but—”
“He hangs out over at the garage sometimes. It’s where his non-Wolves friends meet up.” She gave me the address, paused again, and then softly said, “Be careful with him, okay?”
“It’s not like that.”
“I’m here if you need to talk,” Ellen said before we disconnected.
I did want to talk, but not about Noah.
I had developed a completely inappropriate interest in a man who as much as admitted to having committed at least one felony. There was no way that Zion had meant that he’d fired his gun at a range when he’d acknowledged having used it. He’d understood what I’d been asking, and that was what he’d answered. I needed to keep my distance from him unless he was willing to accept being only friends.
And that was assuming I could handle that too.
Noah, on the other hand, seemed somehow safer. He teased and flirted, but not in the way Zion did. With Zion, I felt like it was a crime to resist him. Noah also wasn’t one of the Wolves. Both he and Zion had pointed that out. I could ask him to help me figure things out or at least point me in the right direction without involving the Wolves—which Grandma Maureen still seemed opposed to, and now that I’d gotten closer to Zion, I understood a lot more.
Resolved, I drove to the address Ellen had given me.
I parked the car and walked across the patchy grass until I was at the table where Noah sat with several strangers.
“Looking for Killer?”
“No. I was looking for this guy I met at school. Offered to be my friend. Asked me to tutor him . . .”
Noah nodded and motioned for me to walk with him. “Come on, then.”
A whistle followed his terse statement, but neither of us acknowledged it. I didn’t much care what his friends thought I was doing there. I needed help, and there weren’t a lot of people I thought I could talk to. Noah seemed more likely to have answers than Ellen, but less likely than Zion to make me feel indebted.
Mutely but with my head held high, I followed him.
As Noah led me away from the garage, I tried to remind myself that Uncle Karl and Ellen both swore he was a good guy. He’d offered to be my friend. He had seemed nice. I was safe.
“I need your help,” I said as we walked. “It’s about the break-ins.”
When he stopped, I took a few steps away from him and leaned against an old car that was up on blocks. For a moment he simply stared at me, and then he started pacing. I waited. If he said no, I wasn’t sure what else to do. Grandma Maureen wasn’t going to get any legal relief if I was right about the sheriff.
“The sheriff knows something, but he does nothing. I need help,” I started.
“Do you want me to talk to Echo for you?”
“Echo?”
“The president,” Noah said.
I felt stupid. Of course Echo was the club president. The remarks Beau had made replayed in my head, as did Zion’s explanation that he worked for the president. My grandmother . . . my sweet schoolteacher grandmother had a relationship of some sort with the president of the Wolves. My grandmother had dated Zion’s boss.
“Echo’s the president of the Wolves,” I repeated, trying to remember if anyone had pointed him out to me.
“Tall. Zion is always there when he is,” Noah said. “Goatee. Dark hair. Usually keeps his riding gloves on.”
“Right. Echo. He’s the president. Zion’s boss.” I had a vague image of a very fit older man who spoke quietly and had never stood to retrieve his own drink. I had realized by the way people acted that the older biker was influential. I hadn’t known his name, though.
Noah frowned. “Yes . . . everyone’s boss. He likes your gran a lot. We all do. When Killer and I were in school, Echo always went to the parent meetings if he could.”
I smothered a laugh. I was pretty sure by now that the way Echo “liked” my grandmother was a bit different from the way Noah did. This whole thing was surreal. “Okay, but I just wanted your help. No Echo. No Wolves.”
“Then there’s nothing more to say,” Noah said.
“My grandmother doesn’t want to call Echo,” I blurted out.
Noah’s voice was kind as he said, “Sorry about the trouble. If you want help, though, you need to go through Echo.”
“I’m not asking the Wolves—” I started.
“Then you need to talk to the sheriff,” Noah said firmly. “Those are the two choices.”
He walked away without a pause, and my eyes threatened to fill with tears. It wasn’t that I was unused to things going poorly, or that I expected everyone to fall in line with my wishes. Noah was the second person to walk away from me today, and I felt like I was going to scream.
“Wait!”
He paused and looked back at me.
“I don’t know what else to do,” I confessed. “The sheriff isn’t doing anything, and my grandmother really doesn’t want to call Echo. The neighbors suggested it. I brought it up . . . before I knew who . . . or what he was.”
Noah stared at me for a long moment, and then he looked skyward like he was seeking some divine answer. When he lowered his gaze and met my eyes, he asked, “Why aren’t you talking to Killer?”
I shook my head.
“He put you under his protection at the bar,” Noah said, his voice falsely casual. “He’s never done that. He looks out for his club brothers, and for me, but he’s not the sort to take on responsibility for other people.”
“I didn’t ask him to,” I said, as if that was any sort of answer.
Noah shook his head.
“I can’t date a Wolf,” I said, knowing as I said it that it wasn’t an excuse that held up very well.
Noah snorted. “So says the girl who was on Killer’s bike all over town today. I heard already, so Uncle Karl will know by now too . . . Three dates, Aubrey, that’s all you get, or you lose your job.”
“He was driving by, and he stopped to help me out.” I stared at my hands as I spoke.
“Aubrey?” When I looked at him, he said, “Neither of us believes that.”
There wasn’t anything I could say that was true and didn’t involve confessions, so I shifted the topic back to what I wanted to discuss. “Look. I just need help figuring out how to keep my grandmother and her friends safe. I thought you might be willing to help
me. I don’t know anyone other than people at the bar and—”
“Why aren’t you asking Killer to help you with this, Aubrey?” Noah cut me off, repeating his earlier question.
“Because I thought maybe you could deal with it less violently? Because I don’t want him to do something stupid? Seriously, you had to have heard how he got with Quincy and with the cockroach at the bar.” I flung up my hands. “I don’t know what else to do.”
Noah reached out like he was going to touch my face, but then lowered his hand. He took a steadying breath and then said, “I don’t keep secrets from the Wolves. I can’t.”
I stared at him, not sure what that meant.
“I’ll ask around, but I need to tell Uncle Karl and Echo first. I’ll leave Killer out of it, and I can tell them you didn’t want him or them involved. If they overrule me, that’s the way it is. That’s the best I can do,” Noah said quietly.
I looked past him to his friends, who weren’t even pretending not to watch us. The curious looks of a few people weren’t my biggest concern. My grandmother being angry, Zion being livid, and having to deal with the fallout from all of it—those were all more pressing. I didn’t know what else to do, though.
“Okay.” I nodded at Noah. “Thank you.”
“And Aubrey?” he said gently. “My cousin’s not a bad person, but whatever you two are doing needs to get sorted out. He’s never acted like this, and I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing for you . . . or him.”
“There’s nothing to sort out,” I stressed. “I told him that earlier. I didn’t break Uncle Karl’s rules. Zion helped me clean up after someone trashed my grandmother’s porch. That’s all.”
Noah sighed. “Don’t lie to yourself, Aubrey. It would take a blind, deaf dead man not to see the way he watches you or the way you soak it up.”
The thought that I was being unfair to Zion washed over me again. “I’m sorry. That will all stop.”
I straightened my shoulders and walked past Noah, past his friends, and to the car before tears started sliding down my cheeks. Willing this thing with Zion away wasn’t working at all. Maybe it would be better now that we’d talked . . . or rather, now that I’d talked and turned away.
Undaunted: Knights in Black Leather Page 11