Red Rose: Red Thorns Crew Book 2

by Hart, Rebel

  I leaned back. “It’s him. I know it is.”

  Rupert shook his head. “Knowing and proving are different.”

  “We don’t have to take this to the police. We aren’t putting the man on trial. We’re trying to figure out who’s trying to get me killed.”

  “And you’re accusing your father of it, Max.”

  “Are you telling me my father would do anything but kill me? You’re really trying to sell that point?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m just trying to play devil’s advocate as best as I can.”

  “Might want to leave that to my father. He’s a professional at playing devil’s anything.”

  I finally took a pull from my beer and I didn’t stop until the glass was drained. I set it back down onto the table and Rupert filled it up. Then the glass returned promptly back to my lips. Part of me wanted to drown out all of this nonsense. Part of me was ready to wake up from this massive nightmare with two random women in my bed, searching for a third round. But the rest of me knew this wasn’t a nightmare. Everything good--and bad--happening right now was real.

  And Dani was the only thing I had going for me.

  “So let me ask you this.”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  “If you think your father’s in play with all of this, should we start doing drive bys on campus? You know, for Bambi’s sake?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. I honestly--”

  I cracked my neck before my eyes fell back to my beer once more.

  “I honestly don’t know where the hell to go from here.”

  Rupert sighed. “Oh, boy.”

  I shook my head. “I just need some time to process all this shit. I need some time to pilfer through what my father said to see if he might’ve hinted at anything I didn’t catch in the heat of the moment.”

  “What exactly did your father say?”

  “He was cryptic. As always. Warned me about slinging accusations around and that he didn’t appreciate me coming to his place only to accuse him of what I was.”

  “What did he say that proved his guilt to you? That’s really all I’m concerned about.”

  I closed my eyes and relived the moment.

  “Dad was acting funny. Finicky. I mean, he wasn’t shuffling around or anything. But he had a very tight grip on the crystal glass he was holding. I watched that man sling back two massive drinks before he was even remotely ready to speak with us.”

  Rupert drew in a deep breath. “So something must’ve happened before you two arrived?”

  I opened my eyes. “Or he was that nervous to speak with us in the first place.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “My father has this tell. A tell he’s aware of. His pinky likes to twitch and exercise its free will to move whenever he’s lying. Or manipulating. I caught it early as a child. It’s how I was able to circumvent my father’s anger a lot as a kid. But as we grew up, he started finding ways to conceal it.”

  “How so?”

  I shrugged. “Keeping that hand in his pants pocket. Fiddling with a coin, or leaning his hand against the wall.”

  “Or holding on to a drink.”

  I nodded. “Exactly. Even though he slung back both of those drinks, not once did he put that glass down. He clung to it so tightly his knuckles were white. And the only time his hand ever relaxed around that glass was when he proclaimed that blood didn’t matter in affairs like this.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. Back up. What did he say?”

  “Like I said, things were getting tense. John was in the hallway, calling out for me to come on. That we needed to leave. Dad told me I needed to listen to my older brother and I said, and I quote, ‘I’m not walking away, John. And I’m not dropping this, Dad, until we get to the bottom of it. Blood doesn’t mean shit. Not if you’re the one coming for me.’”

  He blinked. “You said that to your father?”

  “Yep. And just after his hand relaxed against that crystal glass, he said, and I fucking quote, ‘You know what? Good for you, Max. That’s the first thing you’ve ever said that I respect. And that I agree with. Blood doesn’t mean anything when stakes like this are involved.’”

  He paused. “Holy fuck, your father’s guilty.”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  “What the hell does he get out of trying to kill you, though? That doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

  “I know. And all I’ve got there are theories. Maybe he’s trying to dismantle the Red Thorns. Maybe he really does have it all-out for me like that. During the meeting, though, Dad mentioned something about us being small time.”

  “Us, meaning…?”

  “The crew. He said we were small-time, and that riding around town like we owned the place had probably pissed some people off.”

  “And if he’s working with another crew, he might be talking about the fact that they’re pissed off.”

  I nodded slowly. “My fear is that we’re about to get into a turf war with another gang, only my father’s going to be at the helm of it all.”

  “And we all know how that ended the last time.”

  I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. “Yeah. We do.”

  The last time there had been a turf war, John ended up in the hospital for weeks. In a coma for part of his stay. It ended with my own flesh and blood being permanently disfigured with the inability to ever get back on a bike. And that was with Dad on our side. Technically.

  The havoc my father could wreak on our club if he was on the opposite side made me shiver.

  Rupert poured himself another glass. “Okay, speaking of facts for a second, your father’s been content for years using us as anything from errand boys to security detail.”

  I nodded. “This is true.”

  “And we’ve never let him down. At all. We’re consistent.”

  “And affordable.”

  “Plus, we’re low-key. That last client? That’s as noisy as shit has ever gotten for us. Because usually, our heads are down. I mean, ever since you stepped up to the plate, our enemies have become at least neutral. Some of them even allies.”

  “Until now.”

  He sighed. “You think your father’s working with one of our allies?”

  I paused. “I think my father is working with someone who wants us out of the way. Whether it’s an ally or someone who’s neutral--or even someone who’s new--I don’t know. But none of that matters. The only thing that matters is their current motive.”

  “Which is to get you out of the picture. Obviously.”

  “Yep.”

  I threw back my second beer before Rupert refilled my glass.

  “You know what I think?” he asked.

  I cleared my throat. “Give it to me.”

  “I think we need to stop looking at this practically and start looking at it through the lens of your father’s eyes. Because if he’s really at the head of all this, logic doesn’t get us anywhere. Because your father doesn’t operate on it.”

  I pointed at him. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said since we arrived here.”

  He blinked. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

  I grinned. “Good luck.”

  “Hey, Max!”

  My head panned towards the voice. “Tiger! Holy shit, where the hell have you been?”

  The man with three scars tearing down his face walked up to our booth and shook my hand. He leaned down for a pat on the back, and I held him a little longer than he was probably expecting.

  “Man, it’s good to see you on two feet again. I didn’t think you’d ever get out of the hospital. How’s the leg doing?” I asked.

  He bent his knee for me. “After the four surgeries, it’s doing fantastic. Sorry I was out of commission so long.”

  “Man, you know you don’t have to apologize for shit like that. Especially after shoving your wife out from in front of a truck like that.”

  Rupert chuckled. “Yeah. Only you could take a hit fr
om a semi and walk it off after some surgeries.”

  Tiger chuckled. “So I miss anything? Got any jobs I could hop on? We could really use the money.”

  I sipped my beer. “I’m working on the job front. We’ve run into some snags. Some shit that’s happened since you’ve been gone. But any one of these guys will fill you in on what’s happening.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Something I should be worried about?”

  “Not to freak you out, but yeah.”

  I watched Bub slap his hand against Tiger’s back before he winked at me.

  “Someone around here’s chasing our damn president down. Not very nice, if you ask me.”

  Tiger’s eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking kidding me? Who? Who are they? Tell me, and there’s no need for anything else.”

  I chuckled. “You need to take a seat and keep on resting. And Bub! Try not to freak him out on his first night back. He’s got pins in his leg, remember?”

  Bub smiled. “Ah, I’m just messin’. You know Max can handle himself.”

  Tiger studied my face. “Are the bags underneath your eyes yellow? Holy shit, did someone actually land a punch?”

  Bub wrapped his arm around Tiger’s shoulders. “Come on. Your ‘welcome back’ drinks are on me. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  I nodded. “I appreciate that, Bub. Thanks.”

  He winked. “Anytime, Max.”

  I watched the two men walk away as I sipped my third drink. Rupert topped it off before he held it in the air, beckoning for another pitcher to be brought to the table. I caught eyes with some of my men. Bushley and Mark. Grandfather and Sully. I waved at them and they came over to talk. Filling me in on their lives, their girls, and their adventures. I sat there and continued to drink, listening to every story they had for me. I loved hearing about their lives. What they got up to when we weren’t working.

  I liked the fact that my men felt safe enough to live their lives. To go on adventures. To play with their children in the backyard and take vacations.

  That was why this situation pissed me off so much. Because looming threats like this made my men fear for their safety. The safety of their families. Soon none of them would be on vacation. Or enjoying their lives. None of them would let their children play outside. Soon the paranoia would take hold, and that’s when mistakes were made.

  “Think you should slow down on those drinks?” Rupert asked.

  I drained my fifth--no, sixth? No, fifth--drink before I waved my hand at him.

  “Hush. Larry here’s telling me about his trip to the mountains. You get any fishing done? I know how much you like to sit and fish,” I said.

  I listened to Larry’s fishing trip stories and nodded as Panther talked about his newly-wedded wife. I slung back drinks and laughed with the guys, giving absolutely no fucks about how much I was drinking. This was just as much my night to enjoy as it was theirs. And I needed to enjoy something after that fucked-up meeting with my father.

  What I didn’t take into account was all of that beer on an angry, empty stomach.

  And as Rupert helped me stumble out of the bar, I wondered if he was right.

  I wondered if we needed to start doing drive-bys near campus to make sure Dani stayed safe through all this.

  25

  Dani

  I slipped into my car and decided to go hang out with Max for a little while. After my morning classes and that awful conversation with Kline, I needed to see him. Hold him. Kiss him. Hear his voice in my ear. I couldn't sleep. I’d barely eaten all day. I felt guilty for some reason. Even though I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. I just didn’t want Max to be upset with me. I didn’t want him thinking that I was straying, or whatever. I wanted him and only him. No matter what came our way.

  “Text message from Mom. Do you want me to read it?”

  My SUV came alive with the Bluetooth automation voice. I peeked down at the dashboard and reached over, pressing the red ‘X’ button. I didn’t need to be speaking with my mother right now. Especially since I knew what she was calling to talk about. I mean, it was eleven o’clock at night! What did she think I was doing right now?

  “Incoming call, Mom.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Really?”

  “Incoming call, Mom.”

  I groaned. “Come on.”

  “Incoming call, Mom. Do you want me to pick up?”

  I sighed. “Yes. Pick up the call.”

  “Danika?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh! Hi, sweetheart. Is now a good time for a quick chat?”

  “Is that what your text was about?”

  “It was, yes.”

  “So since I didn’t answer, you decided to call anyway?”

  She paused. “Are you busy?”

  I sighed. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate. There’s a reason why I didn’t answer your text in the first place.”

  “Well, I promise I’ll make this qui--are you in the car or something? You sound a bit echo-y.”

  “I am in the car. I’m coming back from a new study place I found. I need to catch the library before midnight.”

  She snickered. “My busy little bee. I won’t keep you very long, then. I’m on speaker, right? You’re not holding the phone and driving?”

  I rolled my eyes. “What is it, Mom?”

  “Fine, fine. So testy lately. So Kline’s mother called me this morning.”

  “That doesn’t shock me. Kline called me very early this morning. Not sure if it’s rude or pretentious.”

  She gasped. “Danika! What in the world? Are you stressed or something?”

  “Mom, we’re almost at midterms. I’m a bit stressed, yes.”

  “Well, why don’t you try to tone down the attitude a bit. I’ve never had to worry about that with you. Don’t make me start worrying about it now.”

  Dani, the good little girl. “Mom, I can’t really talk about this right now. Can we do this some other time?”

  “I said I’d make it quick. I just want to talk about what happened. She told me a very interesting tidbit that I wasn’t sure about and wanted to confirm it with you.”

  I turned on my blinker. “What did she tell you?”

  Don’t get me wrong, I adored my mother. But I was tired of playing this ‘good girl’ shtick. I was tired of my mother constantly being in my business. Constantly trying to force me into things. Granted, I hadn’t made things easy on her. I practically shoved that poster board of my perfect life in her face every day after high school. All she was doing was trying to help me achieve it.

  Keep your cool, Dani. It’s as easy as the lie you just fed her.

  Holy hell, I was lying to my parents now. That wasn’t a thing I ever did. I didn’t want to make it a habit, either. I gripped my steering wheel as I heard my mother whispering in the background. To my father, no doubt. I heard a small click sound on my side of things and I knew I was on speakerphone. Which meant I had to be overly careful about what I said.

  Dad could suss out lies from a mile away, after all.

  “Mom, look. I’m almost at the library and I need to hop off soon. But I know you’re disappointed. I know you were banking on this. I never said I’d agree to go out with him, though. I told you I’d think about it, and I did. I decided not to get coffee with him. That’s all that happened.”

  She sighed. “Is it because you’re already seeing someone? Because that’s what Kline’s mother told me you said to her son. That you were seeing someone.”

  I bit my tongue. “Oh.”

  “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Seeing someone.”

  I held my breath, wondering what in the world I needed to do. I mean, I was almost at Max’s place. What would happen if I was still on the phone with her and Max saw me outside? The lie I had already told would be blown out of the water. It would be an absolute nightmare. And I didn’t have the stomach to lie to her again. Especially with my father secretly listening in.

 
So, don’t lie.

  “Dani? You still there?” Mom asked.

  I sighed. “Mom, it’s nothing serious.”

  She gasped. “Oh. My. Gosh. You are seeing someone!”

  Dad butted in. “What’s his name and where did you meet him? I want to shake his hand before you two go any further.”

  I rolled my eyes. This incessant helicopter parenting was getting very, very old.

  “No one is shaking anyone’s hand when I’m still trying to figure things out myself,” I said.

  Mom squealed. “Have you been on a date with him? What’s his name? What does he look like? Have you two had coffee yet? Has it progressed to dinner? Oh, I bet he took you out somewhere nice, didn’t he? Tell us everything.”

  Dad harrumphed. “I still want to shake his hand before he takes you anywhere.”

  I rolled my eyes. “His name is Max. Everything is fresh and new. We’re still just talking. I just didn’t find it fair or proper to accept a coffee date with some other guy while I’m talking to another. I don’t like that.”

  “Oh, no no,” Mom said hastily, “you made the right decision.”

  Dad sighed. “Max who? What’s his last name?”

  I pulled into Max’s driveway. “I gotta go, guys. I’ll call when I can.”

  “Wait, at least tell us what you--!”

  I hung up the phone call and turned off the car. Then I decided to turn my phone off, too. I noticed there was a truck in Max’s driveway. A truck that looked oddly familiar. It wasn’t John’s. He drove a beat-up hatchback.

  Who in the world is at Max’s place?

  I turned my car off and slipped out. I headed for the front door and didn’t even bother knocking. Mostly because the door was already ajar in the first place. I softly pushed it open and stuck my head in, and the smell of booze filled my nostrils.

  “Max? You here?” I called out.