He looked at me, and I nodded. “Thank you both for removing her.”
Then I turned my back on all of them and resumed putting away the garnishes and returning the bottles to the racks. Closing down the bar was something I’d done solo already, but usually it was already fairly dead by then. Doing it while there were still so many people around was different. Doing it when I was fuming mad and soggy was even worse. No one had ever thrown so much as a cup of juice at me in my whole life. I wanted to do a lot worse than make a catty comment.
I was running over the reorders when I heard, “You’ve put me in a spot, Aubrey.”
I looked up to find Eddie Echo sitting at the bar. It was the first time I’d been quite this close to the Wolves’ president. Maybe if I had before, I would’ve noticed that it seemed like Zion’s eyes were looking out at me from the older biker’s face, or maybe that was just the result of Uncle Karl planting the idea. Either way, I looked into those eyes and admitted, “I didn’t mean to do anything. She was—”
“I don’t care about Bobbie,” he cut me off. “If you’re Killer’s lady, I’ll tell Karl she’s done playing here.” Echo shrugged.
“Oh.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. He studied me like I was a problem he needed to resolve. Maybe I was. The thought wasn’t very comforting. I had the distinct impression that Eddie Echo wasn’t casual about resolving problems. Then he sighed. “You look like Maureen.”
“I’ve heard,” I said quietly.
“I have people looking into the situation over there,” he announced. “If there are other troubles, I expect you to call Killer . . . not Dash. There’s an order to things.”
As much as I didn’t love being issued edicts, this was the man who Beau said would pluck the stars from the sky for my grandmother. Plus, Echo was Zion’s father, his boss. It wasn’t ever explained outright, but I knew he was ultimately my boss too. Uncle Karl might own and run the bar, but that didn’t mean he was free of Echo’s orders. There were a lot of reasons to listen to Echo, but the most significant of them was that Echo’s orders could solve the problems that my grandmother and her friends were having. I didn’t know how, but I did understand that people didn’t disobey him.
“Understood,” I said. I wasn’t sure what else to say, though. I couldn’t ask him if he needed anything else, and not a single person in the room had approached since Echo had stepped up to the bar. I lifted my gaze briefly to scan the crowd. There were Wolves scattered around the bar like normal, but it was telling that one of them was stationed at the door where Zion had exited when he escorted Bobbie out.
“You know, there are a lot of young women who wouldn’t ask Killer to change,” Echo continued in that same level tone.
I resisted the impulse to shiver. “I didn’t ask him to change.”
“You also rejected him unless he does change.” Echo’s gaze was unwavering, and for a moment, I was afraid. So far, I’d seen the protective side of bikers because they were embracing me like I was part of their family. The censorious expression on Echo’s face reminded me that in this case, I was on the wrong side of that equation.
Ignoring every instinct telling me not to argue, I said, “There’s no law saying I have to accept someone’s interest. If I did, I’d have had to accept Quincy or Noah just as much as I’d have to accept Zion.”
“The sheriff’s boy?”
I nodded. “Zion, um, rescued me. I have no interest in Quincy.”
“And Dash?”
I crossed my arms to keep from either trembling or being lippy, but I still shook my head. “No.”
Echo’s stony expression cracked a little, and an unexpected softness came into his voice. “I don’t want to lose Killer.”
I looked over to the doorway, where Zion was now returning. “I’m twenty. I don’t have a clue where I’m going half the time. I try. I had . . . have a plan.” I waved my hand around the bar. “None of this is part of it.”
“Your gran had plans too,” he said. “She never asked a man to change for her, though.”
Maybe it was supremely stupid, but I’d seen the mix of happiness and longing on my grandmother’s face when Echo’s name came up. I didn’t like it either, so I said, “And my grandmother is alone. I’m not going to do something halfway.”
The only reaction Echo had was a slight lift of a brow. He didn’t reply to my intimation that my grandmother had only been halfway committed. We both knew it was true, and I suspected they were neither one over it. I glanced away, unable to hold his gaze.
After a moment, Echo pointed out, “Killer’s never known another life. Tonight he told me he’ll give it all up for you. His family. His position.”
When Echo paused, I looked back at him, which was obviously his intent because once I did, he added, “There are consequences of walking away once someone’s been patched in. He’s offering to face that for you.”
I looked past Echo to where I could see two bikers step in front of Zion. One of them was Alamo, and I didn’t know the other. Zion obviously wasn’t used to being stopped, and he looked furious about it. Neither man budged, though.
I didn’t ask Echo what the consequences were. The tone of his voice already told me more than I wanted to know.
“You could tell him not to do it. Forbid him . . .” I shook my head. “I don’t want him to get hurt. I do care. I could care a lot more if I let myself, but you can make him stop, walk away from me instead.”
Echo’s smile was grim, and his words weren’t much better. “If he’s going to hate one of us over this choice, it’s not going to be me.”
He pushed to his feet and was already away from the bar when I found my voice. “I didn’t mean to get involved. I keep trying to walk away.”
“What you meant to do doesn’t matter, Aubrey. What matters are the choices you make now, and if you can’t figure it out, maybe you ought to move back to Oregon.” Echo said it mildly. It felt like a threat, but I wasn’t sure if it actually was.
I nodded.
And Echo walked away. He paused at Zion’s side, grasped his arm, and pulled him close, and from the looks of it, said something in his ear. After a moment, Zion nodded, and Echo and the rest of the bikers left.
Zion followed them over to the door and locked it behind them, sealing the two of us in Wolves & Whiskey. I wasn’t afraid of Zion—but I was afraid of the emotions threatening to consume me.
He killed most of the lights before he walked over to me, and all I could do was watch as he came toward me. I wanted to run to him, to apologize, to offer an answer that wouldn’t cause him to choose between me and his family. Instead, I stood there and shivered.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Whatever he said, I’m sorry.”
“Zion—”
“Whatever Bobbie said earlier, I’m sorry about that too. And the drink.” He took a deep breath. “And the things Uncle Karl said . . . and for whatever Dash will say . . . I’m sorry about all of it.”
“I don’t know how this happened,” I told him. “All I wanted was a job and a couple of classes. Things . . . us . . .”
He reached over the bar to catch my hand.
I jerked back. “Don’t.” I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I don’t want you to have to leave the Wolves. I don’t want to be . . . but I don’t want you to do the things you do for them, for Echo, either.”
Zion stared at me for a minute. “What do you want, then?”
“A night to think,” I asked.
Instead of answering me, he pulled out his phone and made a call. “Aubrey needs a ride home. How soon can you be here?”
I felt tears start to slide down my face as I watched him.
“Dash will be here in ten.” Zion motioned toward the back, where the ladies’ room was. “Go wash up. I’ll deal with the rest of the cleanup and restock.”
“I don’t need you to do my job,” I said quietly.
“I’m still on the clock, Aubrey.”
W
hen he said my name instead of calling me Red, I wanted to stop him, to correct him, but I didn’t. He had every right to be angry. I kept running from him, and if things had been reversed, I’d probably have been furious too. Whatever this was between us seemed impossible to ignore. When I’d told Echo that I’d tried to walk away, I wasn’t lying. I didn’t want to feel this confused or emotional. I wanted Zion more than I’d ever wanted anything or anyone in my entire life, and it wasn’t simple lust. I wanted him, his smiles and words, his strength and kindness. The package was beautiful, but it was what was inside him that made him so irresistible. Asking him to change his entire life for me wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t change mine either. What I wanted was a compromise, a way for both of us not to have to surrender something essential. I didn’t see one.
But I didn’t want to lose him.
We stood, neither of us speaking, until I looked down. Zion lifted a glass and tossed it at the wall. A bottle followed it. Another glass, another bottle. I stood there, flinching every time. I didn’t know how to fix it, even though I wanted to. I couldn’t change who he was—or who I was. I couldn’t make being the Wolves’ enforcer a tame job, and I couldn’t even think about a future that would include my boyfriend in jail.
Zion paused and looked at me. “Go.”
I fled to the bathroom and took as long as I could washing my face, stalling until I heard Noah outside the bathroom door calling, “Aubrey?”
“Be right out.” I dried the tears that had continued to spill down my cheeks before I stepped into the dimly lit hallway. I couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to say anything, wouldn’t pour my confused feelings out on him. All I said was “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he said in a soft voice. “Come on. Killer’s in Uncle Karl’s office putting the take into the safe.”
I nodded, grateful to Zion for being out of sight and Noah for telling me, and followed Noah outside. He paused to lock the bar behind him before pulling me in for a hug.
I felt like a horrible person. Last night Noah was trying to kiss me, and now he was consoling me while I sobbed about walking away from Zion. “I’m sorry.” I sniffled. “I don’t know what I was thinking, especially after we . . . after last night. You probably hate me.”
“I don’t. No strings last night, remember? You don’t owe me an explanation,” Noah said, pulling back and forcing me to look up at him. “Friends, Aubrey. We’re friends, and no matter what did or didn’t happen beyond that last night, I’m still your friend.”
I nodded.
“And no judgment today either,” he added.
“I don’t want to hurt him,” I whispered. “Or anyone.”
Noah sighed. “How about we get you home? You’re dead on your feet, smell like you took a whiskey shower, add that to whatever happened with Killer . . . let’s just get you home.”
Meekly, I followed him to his Harley. He had to help me put my helmet on because my hands were shaking too badly.
Then I let the roar of the engine hide my sobs and the wind whip my tears away.
Chapter 22
PRYING MY EYES open a few hours later to the sound of a window shattering in the house was the perfect ending to a lousy night. I wasn’t even sure what the sound was before I was running to check on Grandma Maureen.
“Bree!” she yelled as I slammed open her door and sped into her room.
“It’s me,” I said as I grabbed her in a hug. “Are you okay?”
My grandmother’s upset expression faded into one of fury, and she snatched a baseball bat off the floor beside the bed and shoved her cell phone at me. “Call 911. Someone broke the window.”
I did as she ordered, listening for the sounds of anyone else in the house. I didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean we were alone.
The emergency operator was insisting I stay on the line, but Grandma shook her head and told me, “Tell them you’re hanging up so you can call a friend to stay with us.”
I did, and the operator objected. She explained that we were to stay on the line, and I repeated myself.
“Recent calls,” my grandmother said quietly. Her voice shook a little, but not so much that I was more worried because of it.
“Recent . . . ?”
My grandmother gave me a look, and I disconnected.
“Recent calls,” she repeated. “Eddie Echo.”
“Echo?” I asked, knowing that I’d have had to call him anyhow but a little surprised that my grandmother apparently had been talking to him earlier.
“Echo,” she agreed.
I had questions, a lot of them, about why they were talking, what it meant, what he’d told her. For now, I simply did as I was told. Why my grandmother had a recent call with the president of the Southern Wolves was something to ponder later. I found the number and pressed it, keeping an ear out for any noises in the house while calling him.
“Hello?” It wasn’t Echo who answered, though. It was Zion.
“Hello,” I said. “Um . . . I was calling for Echo.”
My throat froze as Zion said, “Red, is that you?”
“Tell him there’s been a break-in,” my grandmother said, refocusing my attention.
I repeated her words.
“Jesus! Are you hurt?” Zion was moving. I could hear the sound of him grabbing something and then the slam of a door. “Is someone in the house with you?”
“Grandma Maureen and me. That’s it.” I looked at my grandmother. “We don’t hear anyone else, but . . .” My words faded. “I called the police, and they’re sending someone, and . . . she said to call Echo. This was the number.”
“Yeah, it’s the right number. I was on duty. Don’t hang up, just hold on a sec.” He slammed something. Then I heard him on another phone, making a call, “It’s me. Evans place. Yes. Now.”
My grandmother was watching the closed door, and I started shoving the edge of her dresser in front of it while I held the phone against my shoulder.
When Zion came back on the line, he said, “Someone else will be there in about twenty minutes. I’m on my way now.” He paused and growled, “Goddamn it! I can either stay on the line while you wait for one of the Wolves to get there or hang up and come myself. I can’t ride and hold the fucking phone.”
“Hang up,” I whispered. “There’s no one here, I think, but . . . come.”
“Stay where you are till I’m there,” he ordered. “Can you do that?”
I nodded as if he could see me, but realized that was foolish and said, “We’re in Grandma Maureen’s room. Last door on the left. Just come in.”
ZION HADN’T BEEN known to be slow as a rule, but he wasn’t careless. The ride to Aubrey’s house was in his top three for least safe riding. The only other times were when Echo had been shot and when he’d had word of a planned police checkpoint he needed to get clear of before it was set up.
The sheriff was pulling in as Zion roared into the yard. The man was taking his time getting out of the car, and by the time he had, Zion was already busting through the door with gun in hand.
“You there!” Sheriff Patterson called.
Zion didn’t stop. He called out, “It’s me, Red! Mrs. E.!”
“Back here,” Aubrey called. “Hold on. The dresser’s blocking the door.”
He could hear a thunk as she cleared the way.
“It’s just me,” he called out. He was glad too, because when the door swung open he saw Aubrey just inside the room with a baseball bat in hand.
“Well?” Mrs. Evans asked. She was sitting at the edge of the bed with her phone in hand. “Is there anyone in the house?”
“No one that I saw.”
“Good.” Mrs. Evans nodded and stood. The older woman had an ankle-length nightdress on and looked far frailer than he liked. When he glanced at Aubrey, he drew in a sharp breath. She had an oversize T-shirt on. That was all.
He jerked his gaze from Aubrey and glanced at Mrs. Evans. “You’re okay?”
“We’re fine,
Zion,” Mrs. Evans said, her voice shaking. “Thank you for coming over. If you don’t mind waiting, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’m here until Echo says otherwise,” he clarified.
Mrs. Evans nodded.
Against his will, Zion’s gaze drifted back to Aubrey. She was staring at the gun in his hand. She swallowed visibly. “The police are c—”
“Miz Evans?” The sheriff’s voice came from inside the house.
“Do you need to hide that?” Aubrey asked in a hurried whisper.
“It’s legal,” Zion assured her and Mrs. Evans both.
“A young man just crashed in your door, ma’am. I’m armed and in pursuit,” the sheriff called out in a drawl.
“If he’s in pursuit, it’s not very fast,” Mrs. Evans muttered. Louder, she said, “Zion is here at my request. He’s not an intruder.”
The sheriff stood in the hallway. Zion tensed at the unease of having an armed man at his back. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust anyone behind him, but it was a short list that he did trust. Sheriff Patterson wasn’t on it.
“Well,” the sheriff announced, as if he had actually done something. “The house is clear aside from him.” There was a brief pause before he added, “Hand over the gun, boy.”
“I’m turning around now,” Zion said in a steady voice. When he faced the sheriff, he added, “This is a legal, registered weapon, Sheriff.”
“Be that as it may . . .” He nodded at it. “Slowly bend down and place your weapon on the ground.”
A noise behind the sheriff startled them both. Midway to the ground, Zion straightened. The sheriff spun. Both men raised their weapons.
“Christ, Patterson! Put that away.” Echo strolled toward them without a care in the world. He glanced at Zion, at the gun, and then back at Zion. He shook his head slightly and made clear that Zion should not release his weapon. “Son.”
Then he met Mrs. Evans’ eyes and said, “Ma’am.” Finally, he looked at Aubrey and nodded. He didn’t greet the sheriff in any remotely friendly way.
“The boy’s gun is licensed and legal, Sheriff, and I believe he’s a guest here.” Echo paused and looked back at Mrs. Evans, who helpfully added, “He is.”
Undaunted: Knights in Black Leather Page 17