Renny (The Henchmen MC #6)

by Jessica Gadziala

  "What do you mean Janie isn't on this case?" she asked, brows drawing together. "These are the people who got Wolf locked up and gave her a world of worry years back. And they're the same fuckheads who put several bullets in his body and made him crack his head on the car on the way down which has put him in a goddamn coma. Of course she's in on this."

  "Lo and Reign decided," I started, only to be cut off by her.

  "Oh fuck," she said, shaking her head. "Reign is going to be in the market for a new set of balls when she hears that. And, Lo, well, I know she and Janie have this mother-daughter thing, but I'm not sure that won't stop Janie from flipping shit on her either."

  "Regardless," I cut in, agreeing, but knowing better than to interfere, "we have all agreed to leave her out of this because she doesn't need the stress."

  "Right," she said, nodding. "Of course you guys did."

  See, I didn't see it right then.

  I should have. It was right there in my face, flashing like a neon warning sign.

  But I was off my game. I was in a fog that I was pretending had nothing to do with the sex dreams I had been having about Renny that left me refusing to sleep and therefore a bone-deep kind of tired.

  I never would have missed it otherwise.

  Because Alex didn't say she agreed.

  She said of course we all did.

  That little oversight on my part would lead to a pinnacle point that none of us would see coming.

  But I had no idea at the time. So we all just sat down and got to work until a couple hours later, Lo walked in with a refill for L and Alex who was every bit the addict L was, though she picked on him about it.

  "Mina, come take a walk with me," she suggested in a way that wasn't a suggestion, but an order.

  "I am pretty much useless here anyway," I said, looking over at L and Alex as they click-click-clicked away on their respective laptops as they had been doing for hours, occasionally mumbling something to the other, but mostly leaving me out of the loop. Three people used to working by themselves being forced to work together was an interesting dynamic.

  "You haven't been sleeping," she observed as we walked the halls that would eventually lead outside.

  "I've been having bad dreams," I supplied, not letting her in on the fact that they were bad because they were so damn good. And Lo, having had her own nightmares, having dealt with Janie's downright crippling ones, and the ones of half the men and women in the barracks, didn't question it. We all saw some evil, awful stuff in our lines of work. It wouldn't be normal if we could always rest easily.

  "And I've caught you on that Gameboy pretty much daily," she added. We all had our tells, our habits that pointed to times of distress. Malcolm paced. Lo sprang into furious action even if she didn't have a way to fix the problem. Ashley hummed a song from her childhood. Me, I played my Gameboy- a leftover habit from childhood that I never could shake. I had tried other ways of distracting myself- music, reading, meditating. Nothing worked half as well as my old video games.

  "Lo, it's just a..."

  "I know that you're not one who shares your feelings easily, Mina. I respect that. But you have to be able to confront them yourself, not distract yourself from them."

  I had been successfully distracting myself from various feelings for my entire life. Healthy? No. But I had always gotten by.

  "I'm fine, Lo."

  "You're always fine," she agreed, nodding. "The thing is, I want more for you than fine. Fine sucks. No one wants to die knowing they lived a fine life."

  She wasn't wrong. She rarely was. So, not having anything to say to that, I stayed silent.

  "Alright," she sighed when we walked out onto the grounds, making two of the new dogs in training run over, wagging their tails happily, knowing who the boss was. She reached out and pet them then sent them off back to the other dogs protecting the perimeter. "I have a new job for you."

  Thank God.

  Really, I was losing my mind.

  I found I actually kind of liked L, eccentricities not aside because I found them intriguing, but despite the fact that he resented my presence and made it clear I was unwelcome. But I was floundering. I wasn't bringing anything to the table. They would be better off with just L and Alex on it.

  It would be good for me to move on, to pack a bag and head in a new direction, to be able to lose myself in a new profile. Maybe I would be able to sleep again with some distance between us.

  See, I was underestimating Lo in that moment.

  Again, I should have known better.

  "Where are you sending me?"

  "Not far," she hedged, refusing to make eye-contact as she looked around the grounds. "See, something came up last night. One of our allies needs profiles on three guys."

  "Three?" I asked, getting excited. Talk about a good distraction.

  "Mhmm," she said, tucking her hands into her back pockets as she finally stopped walking and turned to face me.

  "Where am I heading?"

  "Back to The Henchmen compound."

  The words landed with impact, making me feel like my shoulders slumped under the weight. "What? No. Absolutely not, Lo."

  "Mina, there have been some new developments and they need profiles."

  "So send me the names. I will do them from here. Or, you know, they have their own profiler there too, you know."

  Lo nodded. "They do. And Renny is good, but Reign wants you too. He thinks you're more objective in this situation and he thinks you both seem to catch different things about people. You profile differently and this is a really important job that he can't have fucking up. He wants you and he is willing to pay three times your usual salary for it."

  Three times.

  Three times?

  Fact of the matter was, there weren't a whole hell of a lot of me and there definitely weren't many with as positive a track record as mine. So, because of that, I made a killing. Really, it was ostentatious. Granted, I worked for Hailstorm, so it was a sixty-forty deal with the larger chunk to me. But even with forty percent gone, it was more money than I needed. Especially seeing as I lived at Hailstorm. We could, and often did, move on and get our own places outside the compound. But since I traveled as much as I did, that was impractical. Instead, I spent too much money on nice hotels and first class flights, figuring there was no reason to not enjoy my income a bit.

  But three times my salary was, honestly, a bit too much.

  "Is he out of his mind?" I asked. "I am asking that genuinely. Is he crazy? Has the stress gotten to him?"

  "He is just being careful, Mina. He can't afford to be careless right now, to make mistakes. So he is paying enough so that you can't, in good conscience, turn the job down."

  Really, for three times my salary, could I? As much as I wanted to say no, to save myself the confusion and stress, I really didn't think it was possible to turn down that kind of money. Hell, I could buy a house with it if I wanted to.

  "There is a catch though," she added, getting my full attention.

  "Of course there is," I snorted. I should have known there was. "What is it?"

  "You're kind of going undercover," she hedged.

  "Undercover as what at an MC compound? I love you and Hailstorm, Lo," I said with a smirk, "but I don't care how much he pays me, I'm not going to be a clubwhore."

  She laughed at that. "Could you imagine?" she asked, shaking her head. "I think the clubwhores are in semi-retirement right now. No, I would never literally pimp you out, babe."

  "What then? I think Maze was a prime example of them being a bit backward in the female equality among members thing."

  "Here's the deal," she said, finally getting to it. "The Henchmen have some new prospects. They want to start taking on probates and bolstering up their numbers again. But they want to be careful. They need someone inside to pay close, but unobtrusive, attention on the new guys. And to be there full time, well..."

  "No," I said, shaking my head.

  "You would need to be
someone's old lady. And since everyone already has..."

  "Nope. Not a snowball's chance in hell. Not for a million dollars, Lo."

  "No one is saying you have to be a couple. You'd be playing a part. You'd be acting."

  No, we wouldn't.

  Fact of the matter was, if Renny and I started pretending to be biker and old lady, well, the inevitable would happen.

  "It's not going to happen. I'm sorry. I can't."

  "Why?" she asked and I knew to be wary of the look in her eye. "Because you don't trust yourself around Renny? Really, babe, I thought we trained you better than that."

  That was a low blow and she knew it.

  But I wasn't tapping out.

  I had my pride, sure, and that comment bruised it. But I wasn't going to be ruined by an ego. I was smarter than that.

  "Nice try. But no."

  "Mina," she said, her voice going softer, more reasonable, "what if one of them is a plant? What if they are going to take them out? You know these guys and women and kids. Do you want that on your head if it goes south?"

  She was right; I had spent enough time there to get to know all of them personally. Reign with his gruffness and ability to put everyone ahead of himself. Cash with his sweetness, his good humor, his capacity for love. Repo with his bone-deep loyalty. Duke and his resilience. And Renny, well, with his various positive qualities that I didn't even want to think on.

  Then there was Summer with her sweet toughness. There was Maze and her badassery. And there was Penny with her innocent goodness.

  The kids, well, it went without saying that I never wanted anything to happen to them. They were as innocent as innocent could get.

  "Why do this now? Why do this at the compound? Have the guys be external until the profiles are done so no one is at risk."

  "Because, despite shit hitting the fan, there are traditions. This is how it is done, how it has always been done, how it will continue to be done in the future. It is, above all, a brotherhood. The prospects need to be brought in and trained around that mentality. And, maybe a little part of it is the guys wanting to torture the new guys with menial tasks. They could use some fun after all the stress."

  "You don't understand what you're asking of me, Lo," I said, emotion slipping into my words.

  "Babe, it's not torture. You sit on your ass around the clubhouse most of the day. You pretend to be..."

  "In love with Renny," I filled in. "In lust with Renny."

  "Put your big girl panties on, Mina," she offered a little gruffly. Then to soften the blow because while we both knew she was the boss and I ultimately did have to do what she said or risk being out on my ass, we were still friends and she didn't like to pull the boss-card if she didn't have to, she added, "And maybe Renny will pull them off you. Or maybe he won't. Your personal life is your personal life. What you do or don't want to do while over there is up to you. No one is forcing you to do anything you don't want to do."

  She was right.

  No one was forcing me.

  I had a feeling, though, that I would end up doing something that better sense would tell me I absolutely did not want to do.

  Torn, I looked back at Lo and she dealt the death blow. Granted, she did it with a wince and her voice was nowhere near as strong as it usually was when she spoke, but she still said it- the words that would change everything.

  "It's an order, Mina. Do this job or pack your bags and leave Hailstorm."

  SEVEN

  Renny

  Lazarus simply didn't leave.

  After the meeting with the guys about what happened at the gym and what that meant and then confronting a Mina who decided to be a chicken shit and run, we had gone down and uncuffed him. We hadn't apologized since we weren't sorry about trying to protect our own, but he didn't seem bothered by the whole ordeal anyway.

  Reign offered him a drink since we were all having one thanks to a shitty day. He refused seeing as he was clean, but hung back anyway. Repo and Duke seemed to take to him instantly and I had to admit his somewhat laid-back ease about being in a biker compound in the middle of an underground war was intriguing and welcome seeing as no one else would dare step foot anywhere near us right then- not even close friends. We couldn't blame them either. They had women and kids to worry about.

  When everyone was ready to turn in and he didn't seem to take the hint to leave, Reign shrugged and decided to lock him into the extra room that had been built on during renovations for the sole purpose of housing new prospects. Numbers decimated, Reign knew we couldn't and wouldn't survive past the year, even if the war was over, with our numbers as low as they were. And as much as it was too soon, our brothers not even cold in the ground yet, it was a necessary evil.

  Starting in the morning, all the kid stuff would have to move to the basement and we would set to building the bunks in the new barracks room. The reason they would be out there instead of in the basement where all prospects, including myself, had slept, was because the barracks room had shipping container walls and a heavily locked security door. Reign was literally planning on locking the guys in when no one was awake or around to keep an eye on them.

  He wasn't taking any chances.

  Then, I swear to fuck, it was straight out of goddamn Field Of Dreams. The next night, the guys at the gate came in to tell us as we sat bullshitting with Laz that there were two guys at the gates... with duffle bags.

  "The fuck you mean they have duffle bags?" Reign scoffed.

  "They each have a bag filled with clothes and personal shit," Mitch supplied. "We went through it all. There are no weapons and we patted them down. They each had a switchblade but readily told us about them in their boots."

  "What? Are we running a fucking hotel now?" Cash laughed.

  "They said you'd want to see them."

  Reign looked around at us, knowing we each were carrying and knowing we were on-edge and alert. Then he nodded. "Alright. Send them in."

  Then he did.

  And in walked two guys. Both were blond. One had longish hair and a full blond beard. The other was clean shaven. The bearded one was thinner, but strong. The clean shaven one was more solid. Both had blue eyes and the same carriage- set shoulders, lazy gait.

  "And why the fuck would I want to see you guys? Never seen you before in my life."

  "See now," the bearded one said, smirking, "that's where you're wrong. You've seen us. Actually, you taught me how to put a curve on my fastball."

  Everyone seemed to straighten at once, curious.

  Reign's brows drew together. "Who the fuck are you guys?"

  "Cyrus," the bearded one said, meaning himself. "And Reeve Harris. Our pops was..."

  "Gus," Reign said, remembering suddenly though the rest of us were in the dark.

  "Yup," Cyrus agreed, nodding. "Died in that shitty deal with the Irish some ten years back."

  "And your mom wanted nothing to do with us after. Refused the widow money and everything," Cash nodded.

  "So what the fuck you doing back here?" Reign asked, blunt as ever.

  "Know that shit when you go to college to rush and they have to let you because you're a legacy?" Cyrus asked, lips twitching.

  "You want me to let you prospect because your pops was a member," Reign nodded, understanding. "Why?"

  "Pops always wanted us to join. He would go on and fucking on about brotherhood and loyalty," Reeve piped in for the first time.

  "We've seen all the shit going down the past few months. Then to hear you lost almost all your men. Pops would be rolling in his fucking grave to know we sat on our hands and didn't do right by his memory."

  "What about your mother?" I asked.

  "Stroke five years back," Reeve answered just as bluntly as I asked, piquing my interest. He was the older brother- more serious if his manner was anything to go by. His brother seemed a little more open and forthcoming.

  "Jobs?" Repo prompted.

  "Reeve is an electrician. I have disappointed my family by playi
ng guitar at that new coffee lounge they opened up down the street."

  Reign looked around at us, trying to get a read on our opinions. Fact of the matter was, we needed men. Granted these guys were no hardened criminals, but they had grown up around Henchmen. They understood how things worked. They could be toughened up.

  Finding a mutual understanding between all of us, Reign looked back at the brothers. "Things are a little bit different this time around. We have to be careful right now. So when you guys aren't at work or there isn't someone around to babysit you, you'll be locked up in the barracks room with Laz," he said, waving a hand toward the guy sitting next to Duke who both the men jerked their chins at, "and any other new probates we might bring on. That a problem?"

  "Whatever it takes," Reeve shrugged.

  Reign nodded. "Same rules that have always applied with my leadership still apply. Drink, fuck, fight, I don't care. But there are no drugs in this building and you show our women and kids respect. You take whatever order is passed down to you from us and you fucking do it without complaint. Even if that means you're waxing our fucking bikes with the shirt off your back."

  "So what you're saying is I should be shirtless all the time?" Cyrus asked, making Lo who had just walked in laugh.

  "Can't say that's a terrible idea," she agreed, giving him a smile as she passed him and moved to sit on Cash's lap.

  "That's Lo," Reign said, nodding his chin toward her. "She runs Hailstorm. Those are some of her men you see around, helping keep a perimeter until we can neutralize the threat and have you fucks do that for us again. Wolf's woman is also from Hailstorm. Janie. She's with Wolf at the hospital, but she'll be back eventually and trying to boss you fucks around. In fact," he went on, looking over at Lo with a look that seemed to say 'play along'. "Renny's woman is from Hailstorm too," he said, sliding his gaze to me as I felt my stomach drop.

  I knew it then. I knew what the plan was. And I couldn't say I was put-off by it. No, in fact, inside I was doing a mother fucking victory dance. She was coming back. Not only was she coming back, but she was going to have to play my woman? Hell fucking yeah. There would be no running back to Hailstorm, no putting a professional barrier up. In fact, she would have to let me put my hands on her and she would have to pretend to like it. Actually, there'd be no damn pretending. It would be a genuine reaction.