Unfinished Business: A Bastards of Boston Novel

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Unfinished Business: A Bastards of Boston Novel Page 22

by Carina Adams


  “I’m not saying she doesn’t need a good hard tumble to get her crazy head straight,” Tiny told me without a hint of a smile, “but you can fuck your bitch anytime. This can’t wait.” He pointed at Tank. “Tell ‘im.”

  “You’re supposed to be at the clubhouse. You were summoned.” Tank straightened up and drummed his hands on the table a few times. “You, Preach, and a few others were goin’ after Hansen tonight.”

  I braced my forearms on the table, letting the sharp edge bite into my skin. “Then why in the fuck am I here?”

  “Because I wasn’t told about it.”

  I stared at my friend and wondered what in the fuck he’d smoked that would lead him down that twisted path. “You don’t need to be there.” I didn’t want him anywhere near it in case shit went south.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, man,” Tank argued. “You’re too fucking close. Your shit isn’t straight. Step back.”

  He wanted me to look at the big picture, but that’s all I’d been looking at for years.

  It was me taking out the piece-of-shit scumbag who’d hurt my daughter. That was all I wanted. Nothing else mattered.

  Except, I realized suddenly, something else did matter. Someone else.

  I had other obligations now. Avenging Hannah would always be my first priority, and I wouldn’t rest until both Ali and Hansen were put down, until they’d paid with everything they had. Yet, I also had Cris to take care of.

  I had another reason to keep breathing. A purpose beyond revenge. It was a hard fact to wrap my head around. I pushed all thoughts of the brat away. I’d focus on it later.

  I was missing something.

  I stared at the wall, not seeing it, lost in thought. Tank was the president’s son, yeah, but he was a prospect, same as me. The Bean Nighe didn’t coddle its members. We were thrown headfirst into the violence and gore so the ones who couldn’t handle it would weed themselves out.

  Tank loved my daughter. He wanted to bring pain to that prick almost as much as I did. Strategically, it made no sense to keep him in the dark.

  I turned to Tiny. “Who gave the order to send me out?”

  “Slash. You, Preach, Mutt, and me.” His eyes slid to Tank and then back to me. “He wanted Tank to ride north.”

  Ride north. That meant Slash was sending Tank out of the state, up to Jessie. He wanted his son away from it all.

  The hair on the back of my neck rose in warning. I’d threatened a patched member. I should have known I wasn’t gonna get out of it as easily as I had. None of us were.

  Tiny, even though he’d been a loyal brother for over two decades and had been protecting Tank, had gone against his VP. Preach and Mutt—I couldn’t figure out their role. All they’d done was… It clicked, suddenly all crystal clear. Preach and Mutt had let Cris into the clubhouse and inadvertently started the whole fucking mess.

  I sat back and let my eyes drift around the table. They already knew the truth I’d finally figured out. Slash was taking us out. The stupid prick didn’t even have the balls to do it himself. He was having someone else do his dirty work for him.

  “The address he gave me—it’s another club?” I asked the table as a whole.

  Tank pointed at Wiz, who slid a folder across the table toward me.

  “A trap house,” Wiz spoke as I opened it and glanced at the papers inside. “Owned by Carlos Medina. Spent the last couple years takin’ over the Plains. Now he supplies the Renegades.”

  I looked through the new pictures of the property. Hansen wasn’t there. It was a bullshit setup.

  Drugs. It wasn’t about my daughter at all. It was about a drug supplier. Slash had wanted to take control of Jamaica Plain for years, but it was Renegade territory.

  Slash was sending four of his members to war without telling them. Worst case was that we’d go in there flying Bean Nighe colors and get massacred, and Slash wouldn’t have to deal with us himself. Best case, we’d go in there, wipe out Carlos and his crew, and the Renegades would be out of business until they could find another supplier. Either way, Slasher would win.

  Fucking dick. I’d let him play me like a fucking fiddle. I bet the prick didn’t even know where Hansen was.

  As if reading my mind, Tank spoke up. “Wiz found Hansen. In Dorchester. Living with his girlfriend and her kid.”

  Dorchester. Right under my fucking nose. Goddamn it!

  Wiz lifted his chin. “Address is on the last page.”

  “We’re ready to move tonight—to the real address – to take the fucker out. The four of us,” Tank assured me.

  My fingers grabbed the corner of the paper, ready to flip it over, desperate to find him—to have a little bit of closure. A nagging feeling in the back of my mind stopped me. It didn’t add up.

  “Your old man’s not stupid.” I looked at my friend. “He sends me and Tiny to same fake place, and we don’t come out, he’s gotta know you’re gonna go after him.”

  Tank nodded, scratching his beard. “You’re my brother. Don’t need a patch to tell me that. Somethin’ happens to you, I’m burning shit to the ground.”

  Tiny spoke up. “Makes no fuckin’ sense. But the facts don’t lie.”

  “Why make such a big show about you bringing Cris down here? Why force you to move into an apartment that you’re never gonna live in?” Tank shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

  My blood ran cold as I looked around the table one more time. “Where’s Mutt?”

  “I sent him home to his ol’ lady,” Tiny answered. “Slash thinks we’re ridin’, and I didn’t want Mutt wanderin’ into the clubhouse and blowin’ this shit outta the water until we had a plan.”

  I stood so fast my chair fell backward. Slasher thought we were riding straight into his trap. He knew I wanted to get to Hansen so badly that if he dangled that information in front of me, I wouldn’t even hesitate, wouldn’t stop to think it through. He also knew that in order to get to Hansen, I’d have to leave Cris alone.

  Slasher probably saw Cris as the root of the fucking problem. She’d shown up at the clubhouse and barged her way in. Shit had rolled down hill fast after that. In his warped, old mind, Slash probably blamed her for everything that had happened.

  Before I knew it, I was on my bike, Tank on his next to me, flying down the driveway. Someone opened the gate for us, but I didn’t slow as I sped into traffic, Tank right on my six. The sound of more revving engines came from behind me, so I knew they were there even though I never turned to see who had followed. All that mattered was getting back across the city, getting to the apartment, before anyone else could.

  Slasher’s words ran on a loop in my mind as my tires ate the miles. “I hear she’s a wildcat. The others should be able to tame her.” The fucker had passed it off as if he’d been talking about the other ol’ ladies. I’d bought it.

  I’d let her down again.

  I’d make him regret being too much of a pussy to take me out himself. Nothing was going to stop me. If he’d hurt her, though, if he’d laid one finger on her, I was going to do things to him that would make him wish he’d never been born.

  I couldn’t remember leaving the room above Tiny’s garage. I didn’t know if I’d maneuvered my way through heavy traffic or if the roads had been clear. I was unsure how I’d gotten to the eleventh floor of my building, or who was with me. Everything was a blur as I hurried toward apartment number three.

  I tried the handle, relieved that she’d had the common sense to lock it when it didn’t turn. I banged my fist on the wood, over and over, until I heard the deadbolt slide on the other side.

  The door had just started to swing open when I shouldered my way in, pushing all my weight against it. A very surprised Matt jumped out of the way, one hand up in mock surrender, the other curled around his 9mm.

  “What the fuck?” he demanded, shrill. “What is your problem?”

  I should have been relieved that he was there, that he was strapping, ready to protect Cris. Instead, I ignored h
im and called for his sister, the worry in my voice unmistakable. The brat peeked around the corner, her face pinched in worry.

  When her eyes met mine, she visibly relaxed, her lips curved in a small smile. “You’re back earlier than I thought.”

  Relief flooded me, making my already foggy mind even murkier. I lunged forward, grabbed her, and hauled her to me before I could stop myself. I needed to know, beyond a shadow of doubt, that she was safe.

  Her eyes widened in silent surprise as I cupped her cheeks, her skin warm and soft under my rough thumbs. When she didn’t look at me, I tipped her head back, forcing her to meet my gaze. For a split second, we stood there, watching each other, close enough so our breath mingled together.

  I stared into the depths of her blue eyes, trying to find words to say. She was there, in one piece. I’d made it in time.

  Someone behind me spoke in hushed tones, yet I didn’t hear a word. It was just me and Cris. The rest of the world had fallen away.

  My heart hammered against my chest, not in terror but something else. Before I could stop myself, I leaned down and claimed her mouth. Her breath caught, letting me know she was as shocked as I was, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her hands fisted the front of my shirt as if she didn’t want to let me go as her lips slid against mine.

  I devoured her. She was a glass of water and I was a man dying from thirst. It wasn’t enough. I wanted more. Needed more.

  As if she understood, her hands slid up my stomach, over my chest, and around my neck to hold me close. My hands cradled the back of her neck, my fingers tangled in her hair.

  When we broke apart, Cris immediately pressed two fingertips to her lips and watched me cautiously, her cheeks tinged with red. She was just as confused as I was. Hell, we’d barely gotten to a place where we could tolerate the other. Kissing someone you weren’t even sure you liked was barely one level up from locking lips with a stranger and should have been awkward as hell. It hadn’t been.

  Fuck me, I wanted to do it again.

  22

  Cris

  “Rob,” Tank spoke almost too quietly, as if he was trying not to spook me, yet the annoyed note in his voice was unmistakable. “We gots-ta go.”

  I couldn’t hide the surprise and disappointment. “You just got back.”

  Tank’s gaze swept over me quickly before he glanced away and focused on the man in front of me. Rob barely acknowledged him, his eyes locked on me. It was intense, heavy. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to kiss me again or if he was angry that he had.

  Holy shit. I felt my eyes widen. Robert Doyle had kissed me. In front of an audience, so there was no denying that it had happened. Worse than having everyone witness our first kiss was the knowledge that I wanted him to do it again.

  That thought rocked me to my core.

  “I’m not leaving her.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d been staring at his lips until he’d spoken. I turned away in an attempt to hide the evidence of my burning face. My eyes landed on my brother standing only a few feet away, his fists curled at his side, a snarl on his lips. I wondered if it was because of the show Rob and I had put on, but then I realized that three other men were talking to him in hushed tones, their faces all filled with concern.

  The air in the room was heavy with anticipation, like they all expected the Grim Reaper to jump out of the closet and attack. I jerked my attention back to Rob. “What’s going on?”

  “Get a bag together. Just shit for tonight,” Rob commanded as he moved past me into the living room.

  “She ain’t comin’,” a man the size of a refrigerator spoke up.

  “Yeah, she is,” Rob answered with a dismissing wave over his shoulder. I followed him.

  “I’ll stay here with her,” Matt told the group, siding with the giant.

  “You should be there,” Tank argued. “We can leave her with Jerm.”

  Rob stopped next to our couch and cupped my cheek, turning my attention back to him. “Pack a bag, brat. Now.” His words were demanding, yet his tone was soft, almost pleading.

  He dropped his hand, bent over, and reached under the coffee table. A second later, he lifted out a black handgun. I gaped at it, wondering how long it had been there. Before I could ask, he lifted the back of his vest and slid it into the waist of his jeans. I watched as he moved around the apartment, pulling more guns from places I had no idea they were hidden.

  “Why in the hell are there so many guns here?” My voice was squeaky in panic. I hated guns. My parents didn’t even hunt. I had no experience with them, but they made me nervous. “When did you put them there?”

  “Babe,” Rob snapped his fingers toward my face. “Bag. Packed. Now.”

  “She can’t come with us. Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?” Tank argued then shot me an apologetic look.

  “I’m not fucking leaving her,” Rob informed him. “And she sure as shit isn’t staying here.”

  “Why can’t I stay here?” I asked. “What is going on?”

  They ignored me.

  “I’ll take her back to our place,” Matt told us. “Jeremy’s there.”

  “No,” an old man in the corner, one I recognized from when he’d taken Katie out back at the clubhouse, said. “You can’t take her there either. If he doesn’t find her here, he’ll look there.”

  “Dale?” I clutched at Rob’s arm. “He found me already?”

  Rob yanked my body against his. “No, brat. God, no.” He pressed his lips against my temple, clutching the back of my head. “No. This is club bullshit. Nothin’ to worry about.”

  Considering how they were all behaving, I didn’t believe him. “Slasher?” I whispered. “Does he know?”

  His eyes met mine. “I’ll tell you everything later.”

  “I’ll take her to a hotel,” Matt insisted as he shrugged into his leather vest. “I’ve got her.”

  “We need you with us,” the mammoth insisted.

  While the group of men, half whom I didn’t know, argued about what to do with me as if I wasn’t in the room and couldn’t hear every word they said, I clung to Rob. I didn’t want him to leave me. I was scared of some unseen force, some distant threat.

  A wave of fear washed over me, goose bumps erupted on my arms, my heart pounded away in my chest. I’d had this type of gut reaction, almost like a panic attack, before. Something bad was going to happen. Not to me, I realized with a jolt. To him.

  “Please don’t leave me.”

  Rob’s entire face changed, becoming almost tender as he cupped my cheeks again. “Brat.” The word was barely a whisper.

  “I have a bad feeling. A really horrible feeling. One I haven’t had in a really long time.”

  I couldn’t catch my breath to push the words out. Tears stung my eyes as my mind screwed with me and sent visions of the last time I’d ignored this feeling. The night Hannah had died. I hadn’t known what it was at the time, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it, but I could protect her dad. I dug my nails in his arms, desperate to hold on.

  Rob’s eyes darkened, his concern clear. “Hey, hey. Breathe. Just breathe.” He pulled me into his arms again, pushing my face against his thick chest, and held me tight.

  “She’s coming with us,” Rob announced loudly, his voice rumbling in his chest. “That’s final.”

  The others argued, but Rob didn’t listen. Instead, he let me go only long enough to tuck the rest of his guns into various parts of his clothes, shove one into my backpack, and throw the strap over his shoulder before he grabbed my hand and tugged me from the apartment. The others followed almost dutifully.

  No one said a word to me as we made our way outside. Rob took the keys from my brother and unlocked the truck, then lifted me inside before I could object. Matt and Tank stood just behind him, their agitation rolling off in waves. Whatever they were doing, wherever they were going, they wanted me far away from it.

  “Matt’s gonna drive you,” Rob told me as he stepped close, blocking my view of t
hem, and pulled the seatbelt over me, clicking it into place. “Stay in the damn truck. No matter what you hear. No matter what you see. Do what he says. No questions.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Brat.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “No questions.”

  Of course I had questions. A lot had happened since he’d barged back into our apartment a few minutes before. I frowned up at him, ready to demand at least one answer.

  He moved quickly before I realized what he was doing, and captured my lips. My eyes closed in automatic response and a warmth spread through me. Before he pulled away, he pushed his forehead to mine, the tip of his nose nudging mine almost playfully.

  “Be good.” His breath caressed my skin as he spoke just loud enough for me to hear. With one more quick peck, he stepped back and shut the door with a loud click.

  My eyes popped open as my fingers flew to my lips. I had no idea what in the hell that was, or why he kept kissing me, but I knew I liked it. And wanted him to keep doing it.

  I heard muffled voices but couldn’t make out their exact words. As Matt slid behind the wheel moments later, I barely let him shut the door before I demanded answers.

  “What in the world is going on?”

  He pushed the key in the ignition and then turned to me. “I was gonna ask you the same thing. I don’t know what in the fuck is going on between you two, but I don’t need to see that shit.” He narrowed his eyes. “It’s weird.”

  I tapped my foot against the floor board. “Tonight.” I spit out the word. “What’s going on tonight?”

  The sound of numerous bikes roaring to life snagged his attention. He started the truck and followed the group of bikers out of the parking lot. He ignored me, and my scowl, as he maneuvered through the small streets. He didn’t look at me again until we got caught at a red light, the bikes in front of us blowing through it.

  “I don’t have all the answers you’re lookin’ for.”

 

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