Spark of Hope: MacKenny Brothers Series Book 3: An MC/Band of Brothers Romance

by Kathleen Kelly

  Making my way up the clubhouse stairs, Logan meets me in the doorway.

  “Did you find her or Mom?”

  Shaking my head, I keep moving through the clubhouse and into the meeting room, where I take my seat at the head of the table. Logan sticks his head in, takes one step into the room, and stops.

  “Ah, one of the guys says I’m not allowed in here.”

  “And yet you are,” I reply dryly.

  Logan takes a step back as the others all pile into the room, except for Angus. He’s not with them. Looking up, Logan is now further back from the door, an outsider peering in, but he’s not. Logan is now family. Holding up my hand, I gesture for him to enter. He’s right, the meeting room is strictly for MC, but I’ve made exceptions before. Logan sits toward the end of the table, on his own.

  “What do we know?” I ask calmly as my gaze lands on Wheels.

  “What?”

  “That’s a good question. Anything you want to share?” I ask.

  Wheels sits back in his chair, looking puzzled with his eyebrows drawn together. He shakes his head, and his lips turn down. “Not a thing.”

  I eye Sean. “Shut the door.”

  Wheels throws a hand in the air. “You think I had something to do with this? And you’re going to ream me out in front of the kid?” His voice rises.

  Sean shuts the door, and I wait until he’s sitting before I speak, all the while Wheels is looking at Cutter for support. Cutter shrugs at him and gives me his full attention. He’s nothing if not loyal.

  “Lola is missing, Smokey is dead, and the head of the Rochas’ cartel, here in our little town, knows you.”

  “I told you I know a lot of people.”

  My frustrations boil over, and I slam my hand down on the table. “You tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  “Nothing!”

  “You are fucking lying to me.”

  Angus knocks on the door, I give him a chin lift, and he comes in.

  “How about we let the whores in here, too? Seems like you’ll let anyone in,” mutters Wheels.

  Sean pegs him with a glare. “Take it down a notch.”

  “What? You think because he’s your brother that you all get to bend the rules?”

  Sean stares at me, and I nod. He grabs Wheels by the shirt and lifts him, slamming him on the table. He’s winded and gasping for air. Sean looks at me, and I nod again. He releases Wheels and sits back down.

  I stand up and over him. “Brother, what the fuck is going on?”

  Wheels pushes me out of the way and gets off the table, brushes his hair off his face, and has his hands up as though he’s going to hit Sean. Sean leans back in his chair and grins at him. Wheels shifts from foot to foot like a boxer. There’s no way he can take Sean. Sean has at least fifty pounds on him, and he knows how to fight.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” I growl out.

  “Fuck you, Kyle.” Spittle flies from his lips, a murderous scowl on his face.

  “I’ve known you for a long time. You’re my Sergeant-at-Arms, but you’ve got something going on, and you need to let me help you.”

  His arms fall to his sides, and he shakes his head, laughter escaping him as he stares at me. “Help me? Now, you want to help me?”

  I frown at him. “Brother, I’ve always been here.”

  “Yeah, for your real family, but the MC? You haven’t been here for us in a long time.”

  “That’s bullshit,” says Sean. “You distanced yourself the moment you married Deedee.”

  Wheels puts his hands on his hips, and his gaze drops to the floor. “What would you know?”

  Sean and I exchange a glance. We’re both confused by Wheels’ outburst.

  “Wheels, I’m sorry you think I’ve let you down. But you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. I’m not your friend right now, I’m your fucking President.”

  Slowly his gaze meets mine. “Deedee is hooked. She’s been using for the better part of a year.”

  The words hang in the air, and no one speaks. Roughly, Wheels pulls out a chair and sits back down, his gaze rigidly fixed on the tabletop.

  “Is that how you know Cristiano?”

  He scoffs. “No, it’s how Deedee knows Cristiano. Through me. I introduced them when he had an issue outside of town. She came for a ride.” His face turns red, and he chokes out, “She’s been clean for years.” Wheels sucks in a breath. “I’m at my wit’s end. I don’t know what to do with her.” He stares at me. “I swear to you the club isn’t involved. Everything I’ve done for Cristiano has only been me. The club isn’t associated.”

  I shake my head. “Brother, you associated the club the minute you made a deal with the devil. You see that, don’t you?”

  He looks at me, nods, and then his gaze goes back to the tabletop.

  All eyes are on Wheels as we sit in silence.

  I’m wondering how much he owes and if I should’ve gone to him sooner. I knew there was something up with him.

  “I know you guys have shit going on right now, but I’ve got something,” says Angus.

  “Speak up,” I order.

  “They don’t have Lola, but the Rochas killed Smokey.”

  “Fucking bastards,” growls Sean.

  “It’s complicated. From what I can gather from my bugs, it appears as though the Cartlands led the Rochas to believe that we were in on the deal with Lola’s family. They’ve seen you and Lola together. They’ve seen her at the house. When they came for Yvette, Smokey was there. They assumed we were in on it, and him being there verified it. They know they’ve fucked up. They’re searching for Yvette and Lola.”

  “What a fucking mess.”

  “We hit them hard,” interjects Sean.

  “Fuck! Yes, we do,” agrees Cutter.

  “We don’t want a war with a drug cartel,” I state.

  Sean’s eyes pop out of his head, and his mouth falls open. “So, it goes unpunished? You’d let them walk on killing one of our own?”

  “No, brother, someone will pay. But we must be smart about this. We’ll call church. Let the MC in on what’s happened in the last twenty-four hours and call a vote.”

  “What about Mom and Lola?” murmurs Logan.

  Words fail me. Absently, I rub my chest at the hurt that’s spreading out from there, infiltrating every part of me. The Cartlands have Lola, her own family, his family. They haven’t contacted us, so we have no clue what their end game is. We don’t know if Lola is alive or dead. As for Yvette, if the Rochas find her first, she’s as good as dead.

  I open my mouth to speak and shut it. The kid is looking at me, and I need to tell him something, but we have nothing.

  So, I stare at Sean. “Put out the call. In two hours, I want everyone here. Also, let it be known we’re searching for Yvette Cartland and Lola. Make sure you remind them Lola is one of us.”

  Standing, I walk out of the room and to my bike. I climb on, start it, and leave the clubhouse behind. I keep going until I find myself at my grandfather’s house. Parking the bike in the driveway, I open the gate and walk up the path to the front door. It feels like forever since I’ve been here. Opening the door, I head for the kitchen. There might not be food here, but I know I’ve got beer.

  As I round the corner, I come face to face with Annette in nothing but a man’s long-sleeve white shirt.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Jesus! You scared the dickens out of me,” says Annette as she clutches her chest.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I’m—”

  “She’s here with me.”

  I turn to find Lochlan behind me in nothing but a pair of jeans.

  “Are they mine?” I ask.

  He smiles at me. “Yes, Kyle, they’re yours.”

  Lochlan moves around me to put a possessive arm around Annette. I scrub a hand over my face, open the refrigerator which is full of food, and pull out a beer.

  I quirk an eyebrow and stare at him. “How long have
you been here?”

  “A while.”

  Annette smiles up at. “He’s been here a month.”

  Bread, cheese, and some type of meat are sitting on one of the shelves, so I pull it all out. I don’t remember the last time I ate.

  “Please, brother, help yourself,” says Lochlan sarcastically.

  “My house.”

  Walking around both of them, I open a drawer and pull out a knife, then step over to a cupboard to find a plate.

  “Funny, I always thought it was our house.”

  Lochlan is the youngest of my brothers at twenty-four. He was our late sister, Heather’s twin. He’s also a manwhore and has no business messing with Annie’s granddaughter, Annette.

  “It is, brother,” I say as I put cheese and meat on the bread.

  Annette pats his chest and says, “I’m going to put some more clothes on. How about you two catch up?”

  I smile at her and wait until I hear the sound of a door shutting before I speak, “What are you doing?”

  “I like her.”

  “She’s off-limits.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I like her.”

  Lochlan is a male model. A highly successful one, and with Maddock’s help, he’s invested his money wisely in stocks and property, but his track record with women is horrendous. The man hasn’t had a serious relationship in his whole life. It’s one beautiful woman after another, most of them as shallow and pretentious as he can be.

  “Annette is family! You and I have had this conversation more than once.”

  Lochlan shakes his head. “You look like shit. Annette is off-limits. She is mine. End of story.”

  I take a bite of the sandwich and put it back down. While I chew, I scrutinize my brother. You can tell he’s a MacKenny, but his features are that little bit more refined. High cheekbones, fuller lips, green eyes, he’s almost pretty, but there’s a roughness to him that shines through. You’d never call him effeminate.

  “You want mayo on that?” he asks as he opens the refrigerator.

  “Yeah, it’s dry as fuck.”

  “Then you’re doing it wrong,” teases Lochlan.

  Pulling the top layer of bread off, Lochlan squeezes the bottle, so a large dollop of mayo lands on top of the meat.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Nothing.”

  Lochlan holds his arm up and points to the tattoo we all share. “You really going to lie to me in Da’s house and tell me nothing’s wrong? Spill it.”

  I take another bite of the sandwich—it’s tasteless in my mouth, and my throat feels like it’s filled with sand, but I try to choke it down. I’m grateful for the beer to help me lubricate my throat enough to swallow it. I grit my teeth and make a sucking noise as I stare at him.

  “Lola’s been kidnapped. She has a son I didn’t know she had. Smokey was gutted at her mom’s house, and Wheels’ old lady, Deedee, is using.” The ache in my chest increases, so I rub my chest inadvertently.

  “Fuck me.”

  “And Sean wants to wage war on a Columbian drug cartel for killing Smokey.”

  Lochlan leans back on the kitchen countertop, his mouth open in shock. “They killed Smokey?”

  “Yeah, but to use Angus’ phrasing, it’s complicated.”

  “Angus is involved?”

  I nod, not wanting to explain all the grisly details any further.

  Annette comes back into the room in a light pink, sleeveless dress. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, she’s as pretty as a picture. I’d almost go so far as to say innocent, but if she’s spending time with Lochlan, I know she’s not that.

  Lochlan puts an arm around her. “Babe, I need to spend some alone time with Kyle. Could we catch up later?”

  Her forehead creases and she appears concerned. “Of course.” Then she points at me. “You’ll not warn him off me, Kyle. I like him.”

  “I’m getting that.”

  Annette kisses Lochlan on the lips and leaves the room.

  “She likes me.” Lochlan smiles at me like a lovesick fool.

  “The moment she had sex with, you should’ve made you realize that.”

  Annette comes back with a large nude-colored handbag over her shoulder and matching pumps on her petite feet.

  “You should check on your gran. Tell Annie we’re doing all we can, but as of yet, we don’t have anything.”

  “You don’t have anything? What does that mean?”

  “You involved Annie?” asks Lochlan.

  I take a large swallow of my beer and nod at Lochlan, then stare at Annette. “Please tell her to hold off on contacting the police. Tell her I’m doing my best.”

  Lochlan turns Annette around and kisses her forehead. “I’ll ring you and explain everything later.”

  “Have your cell phone on, and if I ring you, you better answer. Okay?” Lochlan nods. “Kyle, I know you. You’re a good man, and my gran knows that, too. I’ll give her the message, but I’ll need a better explanation from both of you, okay?”

  Annette doesn’t wait for a response. She kisses Lochlan, and as she walks past me, she squeezes my arm. Lochlan walks her to the front door while I finish my sandwich.

  He comes back into the room, pulling one of my T-shirts over his head. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, Kyle, there must be something?”

  I shake my head and pull out one of the dining table’s chairs and sit.

  “When was the last time you slept?”

  “Sunday. I’m fine.”

  “How many times have I heard you give us the lecture about driving tired?” Scowling at him, I put my elbows on the table and rest my head in my hands. “How’d it happen? How did they get Lola?”

  I hear the front door open and then footsteps. We’re both looking in that direction when Sean steps into the kitchen and behind him is Angus and Logan.

  “Do you think it’s fucking smart to go off on your own when there’s a fucking drug cartel killing our members?” thunders Sean.

  Angus sits opposite me. “To be fair, they thought you were involved in the Cartlands’ drug deal, and they were sending a message. They aren’t likely to go after any of you. From the little I’ve learned they’re trying to make amends.”

  Sean sits. “They still killed one of us without any provocation.” He stares at Lochlan. “When did you get into town? And why are you wearing Kyle’s clothes? Slumming it?”

  “I got in recently.” Lochlan gestures toward Logan, who sits near me. “Who’s the kid?”

  “I’m not a kid,” replies Logan as he frowns at him. “I’m Logan.”

  “Descendant of the warrior, a good Scottish name.”

  Logan’s eyes widen, and he looks at me. “What, do you all study names or something?”

  I chuckle and point at myself. “Kyle.” Then, in turn, I point at my brothers. “Sean, Angus, and this is Lochlan. I have two other brothers, Jamie and Maddock. We were all given Scottish names because of our grandfather, our Da. It’s something he used to do. My name means ‘narrow, strait.’ Not very impressive.”

  “Yeah, but you got named after Da,” replies Angus. “My name means ‘one strength.’”

  “Mine is actually an Irish name—” starts Lochlan.

  “Bite your tongue! Da would be turning in his grave hearing you say that,” admonishes Sean.

  Lochlan grins and shakes his head. “As I was saying… mine is Irish, and it means ‘land of the lochs.’ My friends call me Loch for short.”

  “Well, I got the best one. Sean means ‘God is gracious.’”

  “Also, an Irish name,” teases Lochlan.

  Sean growls at him, and Logan laughs.

  “My name beats all of yours,” says Logan.

  “Indeed, it does. Loch, this is Logan, Lola’s son.”

  “So, you’re the son?” asks Lochlan.

  “You told him about me?”

  “Yeah.”

  Angus gets
up to open the refrigerator, reaches in, and pulls out four beers and a can of soda for Logan.

  “Did you make the calls?” I ask Sean.

  “Yes, brother.”

  My cell phone begins to ring. The caller ID, isn’t a number I recognize. “Hello?”

  “Kyle, it’s Lola.”

  The ache in my chest increases. She sounds upset, as though she’s been crying.

  “Are you all right?”

  “She’ll be fine if you do as we say,” replies a male voice.

  “Put Lola back on the phone,” I demand.

  Laughter filters down the line. “That’s not how this works.”

  “You listen to me, you cocksucker. You put Lola back on the phone or so help me God, I’ll destroy every-fucking-thing you care about. Do you get me?”

  “Big talk from a little man.”

  “Is this Garry or Tommy?” Silence greets me. “What did you think we wouldn’t find out? Put Lola on the fucking phone.”

  I can hear mumbled voices, and then Lola’s voice comes back on the line.

  “I can’t talk for long.” She sounds strained and scared.

  “Have they hurt you?”

  “I’m okay, Kyle.”

  “What do they want?”

  Lola says nothing.

  “Babe, talk to me.”

  “They’ve made a mess of things.” Lola draws in a breath, and a sob escapes her. “I’m so sorry.”

  Hearing her cry nearly crushes me. “What do they want?”

  “They owe a drug dealer money. They don’t have it. Don’t do it, Kyle, I’m not worth it.”

  My heart pounds as though it’s going to explode out of my chest. I scrub a hand over my face. Anger colors my vision so much so I could punch a hole in the wall. “Where are you?”

  “That’s not important,” replies a male voice.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” I ask.

  “Yes, we bought ourselves some insurance. You pay the Rochas what we owe, and you get Lola back.”

  “What makes you believe we’ve got that kind of cash?”

  He laughs. “You’re an MC. You people are into all kinds of illegal shit.”