Brand_A Steel Paragons MC Novel

by Eve R. Hart

  I understood it. The man lost his family. But that didn’t mean he should go after us simply because we were a motorcycle club. I hated it. Though, to be fair, we were outlaws. And to defend my club and my brothers, I would be the first to step up and say that we were maybe more towards the good side of the wrong. I know, that made zero sense. An outlaw was a fucking outlaw, right? I’d seen this club do a lot of good in the few years I’d been with them. I wasn’t saying that outweighed the bad, I was simply saying that we had rules, ways we did things to make sure no innocent people got hurt. And we would never willingly start something or so much as pull our guns if there was a chance that an innocent could get caught in the crossfire.

  Sure, mistakes happened, but we worked hard to keep those mistakes to a bare minimum. And despite being a bunch of gun running criminals, we were the first to step up if there was a need for help.

  No, I got it. This didn’t make us good no matter what sliding scale you used. But I had to believe that there was a whole lot of white mixed into this black. That we treaded on a lighter side of gray.

  “They happened to be walking down the street when the two clubs started shooting at one another. Mullins was shot five times but survived after three surgeries to remove all the shrapnel around his spine. His wife took a bullet to the head…”

  Cable didn’t need to go on, and I was glad that he hadn’t. Maybe I saw the detective in a new light, but it still didn’t mean that what he’d done was right.

  I couldn’t make up for what had happened, for all the loss he had gone through, but neither could taking down people for no other reason than because they wore a cut and a patch.

  “Alright, I gotta sit on this a while. As pissed as I am, I think it’s best to handle this with kid gloves. Just gotta think of the right way to do that,” Iron said. “So, I’m going to assume that he is going after O’Shay because of his association with the Irish, and their association with us.”

  “Does O’Shay know any of this?” I asked.

  “No,” Iron answered, his gaze a bit distant. “I don’t think so. If he does, he didn’t let onto anything. Now, as far as this attack goes, we need to be on guard. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it one fucking bit. I’m not sure if they knew you were there or not. Maybe it was meant to send a warning. They did it after business hours and maybe it was just bad luck that it happened to be the night you stayed behind. I don’t know. But I’m gonna fucking find out. I imagined if they wanted you dead that they would have walked right in there and popped you in the head.”

  Yeah, that was true. D13 was no joke and it was widely known what happened to people that crossed them. Only, I didn’t think that we had. So that was why the attack didn’t make sense to me and I was sure Iron was thinking the same thing. There was something bigger at play here and we needed to get to the bottom of it.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have let Cami go. It was foolish on my part. Truth was, I’d been so blinded by how right and normal it felt being with her that I kind of temporarily forgot about how bad it was outside of that room. Not completely, I mean I knew the shop was fucked up and I wanted to keep her away from it, but somewhere in my mind, I didn’t think that her going home was something I needed to worry about.

  “Brand?” My eyes snapped up to meet Iron’s after he called out my name. I hadn’t meant to get lost in my head. “We’re not going to have problems with Cami, are we?”

  I shook my head, confusion causing my brows to pinch tight. I couldn’t see where we would. For one, she didn’t know anything at all. And two, she didn’t seem like the kind of person that would cause trouble even if she did.

  “Maybe not so much with Cami, I mean, that girl did hide your gun—on herself, might I add. I mean her family.”

  I was still lost. I had no idea what he was talking about. It was clear that Cami came from money, but I didn’t see how her family had anything to do with what was going on. And, no I wasn’t stupid, I didn’t imagine her family would open their arms and smile to Cami being with a biker. But I couldn’t see where that wouldn’t have any effect on the club, it would be more of a personal issue to deal with.

  “For fuck’s sake, Brand. She’s a Benson. Do you have any clue about that?” Iron asked with clear aggravation in his voice.

  I felt like a little kid getting slapped upside the head for my stupidity. But I still didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

  “The rich that run this town, dumbass. Ever stop to look around? Ever see that name plastered all over shit here?” They weren’t really questions he expected answers to.

  And as my mind worked to put the pieces together, I actually winced.

  “Shit,” I mumbled.

  “Yeah, shit,” Iron all but mocked me. “Upstanding citizens, with upstanding businesses and more money than they know what to do with. Charities out the ass and the best lawyers money can buy. And enough power and influence to make things hard on us if we piss them off in any sort of way.”

  “I don’t think it’s like that,” I said practically tripping over my words. “I just mean, Cami seems a bit distant with her family. She doesn’t really talk about them and…”

  Everything stopped around me. There were things I knew about Cami, things I had figured out simply from watching her, but there was a big void of knowledge when it came to her family life. I knew she had a sister because she’d mentioned stuff about the wedding her sister was planning a few times, and there was that day she showed me those terrible dresses. But I didn’t know anything else. Did she have more siblings? I didn’t have a clue what her parents did or even who her sister was engaged to.

  “I think she likes to distance herself from her family. I kind of get the impression that she doesn’t feel like she fits in with them,” I said. “I can’t imagine that they even know that she works at the shop. Or about me.”

  Cami didn’t seem like the type to run to mommy and daddy every time the littlest of things went wrong. I got the feeling like she wanted to stand on her own.

  “I didn’t say anything before because I thought her working at the shop was just that, and I had hoped it might be temporary. But I’m guessing not so much, huh?”

  “Yeah. I’m keeping her. Not even going to try and tell you otherwise.” I smiled despite the world crumbling around me. And the low chuckles that surrounded me gave me a clue that my tension breaker had worked.

  I didn’t give a fuck who her family was, but I did care if they caused trouble for either her or the club. Mostly for her. I had no doubt a family with roots that deep in this city could cause a big hassle for us if they wanted. It wasn’t something that we couldn’t handle, we just preferred not to, and I knew Iron thought the same.

  “It might not be a bad idea to keep her close for a bit. I’m sure last night was a fluke and I highly doubt they would go after her simply because of who she is. They may be dumb enough to fuck with us, but I couldn’t imagine they’d be fucking idiots to mess with that. She’s more of a kidnap and demand ransom kinda thing.”

  Though he was trying to joke, I didn’t find it funny. The thought alone sent a fire through my veins and I had the sudden urge to call her just to hear her voice. I figured the chances of something like that happening were slim, but the idea was there now and I couldn’t seem to shake it.

  “Alright, Brand, you and Blade take care of the shop today. Get it cleaned up and let me know how long you think you’ll be shut down. I’m sending some guys out to ride the streets, see if they hear anything. Anyone object to me sending Mase out with them?”

  No one said anything and so Iron gave a nod and carried on, letting us know that we’d meet back tonight and go over everything. It was going to be a busy day for the club all around.

  Before I headed to the shop, I called Cami. Her voicemail picked up and I hung up then immediately called again. Maybe she was in the shower. Something I didn’t need to think about right then, because I most definitely didn’t have the time to dea
l with getting my dick to go down.

  So, I sent her a text, keeping it simple and telling her not to come to the shop and that I hoped I would see her tonight. Sure it sounded sweet, but there was no hoping about it, the moment I got her on the phone, I was going to demand it. Okay, or beg and plead until she gave in because it had only been a few hours since we parted ways, but I was already itching for my next Cami fix. Yep, wouldn’t even try to play it off like some macho bullshit, I was just a little bit that guy that wouldn’t be an asshole and could admit to Cami, and anyone else, how much I wanted to be around her.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Cami

  “Camille.”

  I hadn’t even taken two steps into the house before my mother called out my name. I looked down and took in the state of dress I was currently sporting. I had a good idea that my hair was a matted mess and I almost didn’t care. Almost. My mother could be scary at times. It was no hidden fact that I tried to avoid her as much as possible and not to mention all the things that I kept from her.

  The big thing, that I was working at a tattoo shop and hanging around with people in a motorcycle club. Both things my parents would never approve of or understand.

  My mother’s voice did not sound happy. And I could tell you that once she laid eyes on me, her words would come out with a lingering tone of disgust.

  “Camille, come in here, please,” she said from the depths of my father’s office. Just in case you were wondering, the ‘please’ was said with much strain. It was the politeness that had been embedded into her as a child, but the tone of it that clued me into the fact that I was about to be faced with a conversation that would most likely end up leaving me feeling drained and frustrated.

  My feet carried me in the direction of my father’s office, my steps much heavier than they should have been. I felt like I was stuck in tar. I wasn’t looking forward to what was ahead. And I was deeply worried as to how much they knew. Because that tone—that gritted teeth tone—was one that I’d dealt with a time or two in my life. Those times were always when I’d done something that was displeasing to the name of the family.

  “Yes, ma’am?” I stepped just over the threshold, ready to run at a moments notice.

  My father sat behind his massive heavy wooden desk, his eyes almost looked to the point of being glazed over. My mother stood beside the desk, her outfit perfectly pressed and not a hair out of place. Her perfectly manicured nail tapped on the top of the desk where her hand rested.

  “Sit,” she said and for some reason, I scurried to the chair on the opposite side of the desk from my father, and perched my butt on the edge.

  “I got a very interesting call from a Detective Mullins not too long ago. A tattoo parlor? Really, Camille? I don’t know what is going on with you. I secured a perfectly good job for you at the museum and this is what you’d rather spend your time doing? Hanging out with bikers and criminals?”

  It was clear that I didn’t need to fill her in on anything I’d been keeping from her. I was sure the good detective had done that for me.

  “A drive-by?” She let out a heavy, frustrated breath. I didn’t bother to correct her that it wasn’t really a drive-by. No, they came to a full stop and got out of the cars and all to fire their weapons. “Did you even think of what would happen if it had gotten out that you’d been involved in something that? It’s a good thing Detective Mullins called to let us know that he is keeping your name out of the reports.”

  Yeah, good thing. In case you couldn’t tell, that was completely sarcastic. I was sure he had his reasons behind not only the call but keeping my name out of everything. Informing my parents wasn’t merely out of concern for me.

  I sat there, unmoving and silent. I’d learned that this was the best way to make it through one of her angry fits. Though she may not have been yelling, the condescending, bitter tone that carried throughout every word was enough to let me know she wasn’t happy. It was nothing new. It seemed I’d been a disappointment from day one.

  There was no hiding that I was the black sheep. I stuck out like a sore thumb amongst my siblings. My head was always in the clouds. I’d done my best to keep my feet planted on the ground in front of my family and in public, but I had to be completely honest, being two people was exhausting. I was tired of hiding. Of tramping down my soul in order to please everyone else.

  “I don’t know what to do anymore,” she said with little concern in her voice, then pressed her lips into a thin line. My eyes bounced from my mother to my father and back again. “We have decided it would be best if you went to spend some time with your aunt Hillary.”

  My jaw wanted to hit the floor. Crazy Aunt Hillary? The one that lived on a farm halfway across the state? And I should really say it like The Farm because it was like that.

  See, Aunt Hillary hadn’t wandered off to spend her life feeding chickens, no, she had pretty much been banished from the family for not conforming. I personally didn’t know her, but I’d heard the stories and the whispered words of mockery. Those stories were told as a way to keep everyone in line. It hit me right then, that maybe the stories were elaborated just a little. But I still didn’t want to go to The Farm and who could blame me. Crazy or not, I didn’t know Hillary and more importantly, I didn’t want to leave.

  As I looked into my mother’s eyes, it was crystal clear that I didn’t have a choice in the matter. It was written all over her face that she didn’t care a single bit about me and what I wanted. I should have wanted to cry, or at least felt some sort of ping in my heart.

  “No,” I said and my voice cracked betraying the confidence I was trying to pull off.

  “No?” Her head cocked the slightest bit as if I was telling her something she didn’t understand and she was saying ‘how dare you’ all at the same time.

  Sure, Brand may have played a huge part in this. The fact that my heart had started to pound at the thought of leaving him behind. The fact that I might never see him again. There was something…real with him and I wasn’t ready to walk away. Nor, did I flipping want to. So the answer to the question that she hadn’t even asked was most certainly no.

  I stood tall, steeled my spine, and squared my shoulders, ready to face off with this woman that I’d let rule and intimidate me my entire life.

  “I won’t,” I said shaking my head. “I’m not leaving.”

  There, I’d put my foot down. I had finally done it and before I could internally give myself a high five and jump up and down, she opened her mouth and spoke with a tone that was completely devoid of any sort of emotion…like at that moment, I was the one that was dead to her.

  “Then you are giving us no choice here, Camille. You’re old enough to make it on your own. It is clear that is what you’d rather do. So, we are giving you the opportunity to do just that.”

  Wait. Before you go thinking that this is a good thing, I would tell you that she was merely presenting it as such. She was making it out like she was setting me free, giving me the freedom to finally be me, but no. And it was clear she had been prepared for me to push back. Her mind had been made up long before I walked through that door. She was done with me, I was too much of an embarrassment and threat to the perfect image of this family. Lucky for her, I was the youngest and also the easiest to be forgotten.

  “Hand over your phone and keys.” She held out her hand with no hesitation. She was cold as she stared me down, chin tipped up in an I dare you to defy me way. Since in her mind, I had threatened to taint the name of this family, there wasn’t a thing I could say to change her mind.

  “The car is mine,” I said, my voice rising as the frustration filled my veins. “It’s in my name.”

  “No,” she said with a tiny shake of her head as she held up a finger, long nail like an arrow pointing to the ceiling. “Your father’s name is first on the title. Therefore, the car is first and foremost ours. And we pay for the insurance. Therefore, Camille, you have no claim. And, in fact, as of this morning, you will n
o longer be on our insurance, so it wouldn’t matter if you had the car or not because you wouldn’t be able to legally drive it. But perhaps things like following the law simply do not matter to you anymore.”

  Okay, so yes, it was just a car. But I loved that thing. It wasn’t new. I didn’t see a million of them when I was driving across town. I could easily find it in a parking lot. I felt the stories of what had happened during its lifetime when I was sitting in that leather seat. I traveled back to a time that was before my existence every time I glanced into the rearview mirror.

  “Your brother is already handling putting it up for sale. I’m sure someone will want that piece of junk.”

  I sighed. There was no use fighting this. Some might have said I was weak, but I chose to think of it as being smart. She was right, I had no legal leg to stand on. They owned everything, including my soul if I let them.

  “You have twenty minutes to pack whatever you want to take with you. I’m sure Ricardo will be nice enough to drive you where you need to go.” The haughtiness in her voice could have choked an elephant.

  First off, his name wasn’t Ricardo. It was actually Doug. And he wasn’t Hispanic like my mother liked to toss around. While his parents weren’t born in the United States, they were citizens now. And since Doug was born here that technically made him American. Though his parents were from Natal, which made Doug of Brazilian descent, if you wanted to get nit-picky about it.

  And second, if you were wondering if he was one of our drivers, I’d tell you right now that he most definitely wasn’t. He was actually our head landscaper. So see, what she meant by ‘nice enough’ had nothing to do with him offering. Though I was sure he would if he knew what was going on. No doubt my mother was going to go out there and not so much as ask Doug if he would take me somewhere but make it more of a strong request. I could just hear the tone that she would use ringing in my ears. This was yet another knife she was attempting to plunge into me. In her mind, I wasn’t even going to get a Benson send off. No, right then she was letting me know that she thought as little of me as she did the ‘help.’