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Without Forever: Babylon MC Book 5

Page 6

by James, Victoria L.


  “Because Eric is the original president of The Hounds of Babylon. Because he’s the one who needs to save this world he built more than any of us. Because he needs to prove a point, his loyalty, and his allegiance to our brotherhood.” Drew dragged in a breath and released it in a rush, a look of unexpected humor flashing across his face. “And because he’s a goddamn fucking genius—one I’ve underestimated. One who is trying to stick to a promise he made me not so long ago.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant about the ‘promise’. After all the time they’d spent together after Harry’s death, it could have been anything.

  “He’s also the only one the ATF aren’t focused on.” I paused, letting his words catch up to me. As much as I hated to admit it, my curiosity had got the better of me. ”What promise did Eric make, Drew?”

  “He promised me that if anyone in this club was going to take the fall for anything else, it was going to be him. Even if the blood was on my hands, he was going to make sure he was the one they went after.” Drew scowled, his nostrils flaring at the idea of it all. “And now the crazy bastard is actually following through with it, isn’t he?”

  I blinked at him for a while as the pieces slowly fell into place in my head.

  “Except it sounds like he's going to ensure the blood is on his hands, not yours.”

  Eric was going to try and spare his son. This was probably the most selfless thing he’d ever done for Drew. Yet, I was worried this misguided self-sacrifice would force Drew's hand in other areas, and that scared me. Drew was a loyal man himself; honorable and protective of what he considered his. One wrong move and the whole thing could come crashing down around us.

  “We need to find Eric,” I said quietly.

  “I’m not letting him do this, Ayda.”

  I held that steely blue-green gaze with my own and felt all the love and pride rise in my chest. This man was mine, and I could see that he was putting all of the pieces together in his head. He knew his father. He knew what Eric was capable of, what he was willing to do, and what he would do. No matter how honorable or selfless these plans of Eric’s might be, Drew understood that this wasn’t the right course of action to take right now—there were too many moving parts on the mayor’s machine. Something I wasn’t sure Eric had fully considered.

  Drew was smarter than Eric in so many ways.

  Walsh had laid out a gauntlet for Drew. He’d used a knife of betrayal to wound him, but Drew had just snapped off the blade and was ready to strike back. He’d already started to formulate a plan to cut the legs out from under the monster, and I could see that planning in the occasional glazing of his eyes as he retreated into his thoughts. Drew wanted to play this smart, to ensure the win, and to make sure that when the threat was down, it stayed down.

  There was no way in the world Eric could know any of this. He couldn’t possibly understand the tactician his son had become. If he had, and he was still doing this his way, he’d underestimated Drew in a big way.

  “We most definitely need to find Eric,” I repeated.

  Chapter Nine

  DREW

  We agreed Ayda would stay behind at The Hut and wait to see if Rubin or Eric contacted her again, because as much as I had loved having her by my side through the stresses of this life I lived in, her main concern and priority from now on had to be the baby.

  No more taking risks… whether she batted her little blue eyes and pouted at me or not.

  I was standing in the bar, ready to leave, when Slater walked with me to the door and out onto the porch. He, like everyone else, looked exhausted. Despite the sunshine casting warmth on our dirty faces, there was a dark cloud hanging above our world now.

  “See that over there?” Slater pointed to a car beyond the yard with two men in the front seats, sitting there idly.

  “Shit,” I sighed, realizing what it was.

  “They’re not going to leave us alone now until whatever plan Jedd has formulated comes off.”

  I stared at the car; eyes narrowed. “Having them around isn’t such a bad thing, Slate.”

  “No?”

  “The more people that see us sitting innocently in our home, the better. Let them follow us. Let them watch. We’re not running. We’ve nothing to hide or cover up this time.”

  “Except the fact that you just brutally murdered one of our own,” he muttered from the corner of his mouth.

  I huffed sarcastically, folding my arms over my chest. “I’ve been more brutal than that in my years.”

  Glancing Slater’s way, I saw the subtle twitch of his lips and the way he tried to suppress his smile. “Even though I know it happened, I still can’t believe we were betrayed that way.”

  “It makes you wonder who’s going to be next, don’t it?”

  “You think we have more enemies in our walls?”

  I shook my head slowly, focusing back on the two chumps in the car across the street. “No, but I guess we’ll never really know. We’ll always be suspicious in the back of our minds.”

  “I fucking hate that,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “This is our safe place. Our club is what we live for.”

  Maybe it’s time we tried living for something else, I thought, the ease in which it came surprising me. If anyone loved this club and was willing to die for it, it was me. It had always been me.

  “Have faith,” I found myself saying quietly. The silence lingered between us for a moment before I exhaled heavily, blowing all the air from my cheeks.

  I made my way down the steps of the porch.

  “Where you going?” Slater called out.

  “Dunno yet.”

  “You going to take those guys for a ride?”

  I glanced back over my shoulder and smirked. “Why not? It’ll keep them busy.”

  “Mind if I come with you?”

  “Yeah, actually, I do.” I pointed to The Hut behind him. “You’re in charge now Jedd isn’t around, and when I’m gone. I need you to look after my woman for me.”

  “Ayda can look after herself, and we all know it.”

  But she’s carrying my baby now, I wanted to scream from the rooftops, hang banners from every building and place neon signs over our home.

  “She’s not as tough as she makes out.” Throwing my leg over my bike, I curled my hands around the bars, kicked out the kickstand and backed it up, turning to Slate. “I’ll be back soon,” I promised, knowing I couldn’t stay away for long.

  I pulled out of the yard slowly, coming to a crawl, and then a stop beside the car that was keeping us under surveillance. Rapping on the window of the driver’s side with my knuckle, I leaned down and gestured for them to open it up. My cheesy grin was fixed in place as the driver did. He had black shades in place that made him look like a really bad version of that Reeves guy in The Matrix, and his gray hair was poking through the black at the sides, hanging over his ears. He wore a black shirt with no identification pinned anywhere. For all I knew, he could have been there to kill me on behalf of The Navs, but one look at his partner and I knew they were cops.

  Shit cops, too, by the looks of things. The other guy looked like Owen Wilson with his blonde hair, too-bent nose, and his denim shirt hanging open at the collar.

  “Hey.” I waved sarcastically as soon as the window was down. “You guys need a coffee or a sandwich or…”

  The driver glanced at his partner, and even though I couldn’t see behind his sunglasses, his eye roll game felt strong.

  “No? Shit, okay. Just make sure you have some water. It gets hot around here, and you can’t let the A/C run on that engine all day unless you’re going to run it on the road. It’ll burn out. No good for the mechanics of your motor. If it has wheels, it’s meant to roll, if you get my meaning.”

  The passenger cop tried to hide his amusement and failed, but the driver cop… well, he thought more of himself than to mess with a criminal like me, clearly.

  “Where are you going, Mr. Tucker?”

  “Out for a
ride. Some fucker just burned down half of my yard and I’m feeling pretty pissed about it.”

  “Lot of those fuckers around Babylon recently.”

  “You’re telling me. Mayor Walsh is a dick.” I leaned over the bike and glared at him. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve never trusted him. And, I’m not gonna lie to you, if I see that red-headed cocksucker anytime soon, I won’t be held responsible for the fist dent I leave in his face.”

  They glanced at one another, a small scowl here and a twitch of confusion there.

  “Probably shouldn’t be telling two cops that though, right?” Leaning back, I squared my shoulders, stretched my neck to each side, and let out a small groan of feigned tension. “Anyway. I’m heading out. You can either stay here and watch my place for me—which, by the way, me and the guys really appreciate in case some other fucker comes back and tries to burn down my home again—or you can follow me on the road. If it’s me you’re actually watching, I mean, and not The Hut.”

  I stared at the driver and waited, letting him mull the words over in his mind, and then I smiled, winked, and rode away.

  Of course, they followed me. I had no doubts they’d probably called in a second car to go and park itself outside the yard, too. There was no way they could let me ride out of there after everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. Not when I was the only infamous convicted murderer around here to have served solid time.

  It was too easy to play these fools.

  Twisting the throttle, I rode harder. The wind on my face made me want to close my eyes, which would be pretty fucking stupid when riding a motorcycle, sure, but that’s the kind of peace it brought me. It hit every nerve ending on my face, whipped through my hair, and made me feel alive.

  If I have a son, I’ll ride with him one day.

  If I have a daughter, I’ll ride with her, too.

  The baby and its future controlled my every thought as I took the cops on a wild goose chase, taking them on a loop around the outskirts of our town, only to bring them right outside Sutton’s police station.

  I parked up in my usual bay. When the car pulled into place behind me, I’m pretty sure I saw the driver mouth that I was a son of a bitch while the passenger cop simply shook his head at me, looking like he appreciated it all the same. I saluted both of them and let my laughter pour free as I hopped up the stairs to the station and pushed through the doors.

  “Honeys, I’m home!” I called out in the reception area.

  A few familiar faces looked up, the women’s eyes widening, while a few of the cops at the back rose from their desks and quickly dropped their hands to their gun belts. I rolled my eyes at those idiots and dropped my arms on the counter in front of me, offering the lovely Ellen Moon a smile and sigh of contentment.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” I cooed at her. Ellen was in her late fifties, with auburn hair that she still set in curlers most mornings, and a plump face that let everyone knew she was a regular visitor at Lizzy Ford’s bakery. “How’s my favorite girl today?”

  She rolled her eyes, but the faint blush in her cheeks gave away her thoughts about me. Cougar Moon, I called her, knowing full well she’d take me in a heartbeat if I let her.

  “What are you doing here today, Drew?” she asked, aiming for indifference as the contradicting red patches crept up her pale neck.

  “I need to see my man.” My fingers drummed on the workspace between us.

  “He’s in his cell. No visitors allowed.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me,” came Winnie’s voice from behind Ellen. Cougar Moon dipped her head and began shuffling some papers around. The entire station seemed to hold its breath while they listened to the clip-clopping of Winnie’s heels on the floor.

  Still leaning over the counter, I looked up to see her, and I plastered on a bright, white smile, raising my brows as she drew closer.

  “What are you doing here, Mr. Tucker?”

  I winced. “FYI: I really hate it when people call me Mr. Tucker. Don’t waste your time patronizing me.”

  Winnie came to a stop behind Ellen, casting her a glance of disapproval before she looked back at me and folded her arms across her chest. “What would you prefer I called you? Mr. Fuc—”

  “Don’t go there.”

  “No. Perhaps I shouldn’t. I hear the last guy who called you fucker ended up dead.”

  “Well, that sounds like a lady of the law is accusing me of a crime I don’t know about there, Miss Winnie.”

  “I really hate it when people call me Miss Winnie. I find it… kinda patronizing,” she countered, tilting her head as she studied me.

  “I like you.” I laughed, leaning over my arms even farther, making sure my biceps popped from beneath my black T-shirt. Her eyes drifted down them before she made her smile tighter, blinked, and forced herself to look up at my face again. The mistake she made then was swallowing and trying to hide it. Body language was my forte, and I loved nothing more than studying someone when I had nothing left to lose. “You could be real pretty if you weren’t such a bitch.”

  Ellen gasped, her eyes rising to mine briefly before she clamped a delicate hand over her mouth and looked down again. Winnie’s eyes just narrowed, and her nostrils flared, but she tried to keep that smile in place.

  “Sorry,” I whispered mischievously, scrunching my nose up for effect.

  “What do you want, Mr. Tucker?”

  “I want my man.”

  “So do I.”

  I raised a brow. “He’s a good-looking guy. Can’t say I blame you.”

  Heat rose in Winnie’s cheeks, and she shuffled on her feet, taking a quick glance around as if she was making sure nobody had heard what I’d said.

  Wait a minute…

  Did she…?

  Fuck, I’d thrown a flippant comment around, and somehow it had landed on target.

  Winnie corrected herself quickly, and I wasn’t sure anyone else would have seen her reaction unless they’d been studying her, too, but I’d seen it, and I was sure as shit going to press on that tender spot over and over again until she gave me what I wanted.

  “Winnie, you might want to do something about that.” I pointed to her face.

  “Excuse me?” She scowled.

  “The heat in your cheeks. It’s screaming desire. I don’t know if that’s for me, or for my man Jedd, but…” I tsked, leaned in, and whispered. “I’m guessing it’s Jedd, and that’s really why you’re keeping him here.”

  “You need to leave,” she pushed out, straightening her shoulders.

  “I will. I’ll leave as soon as I’ve got Jedd.”

  “He isn’t going anywhere tonight. He’s here of his own free will, Tucker. He has no desire to leave yet.”

  If she could read body language, too, then she probably saw the subtle flinch of my eyes at that one. He doesn’t want to leave? Fuck that.

  “I guess I’ll be staying here for the night then.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You either let me speak to him right this fucking second or be prepared for me to sit over there on those rock-hard chairs all day and night long, just to piss you off.”

  Winnie stared at me, her eyes on fire as she struggled to keep her hatred under control. She knew I’d been a bad guy. She knew what I was capable of. She probably had proof of shit I’d done and gotten away with over the years, too, but damn, was she having a hard time pinning something on me that would stick in the here and now.

  The law was fickle.

  Anything could be turned over if the evidence wasn’t one hundred percent watertight. Everything she had on me had holes in it, and she was a ship waiting to sink if she let her one lead out of here:

  Jedd.

  “I know that he’s your last lifeline now, Winnie. Jedd’s your last chance to bring my brothers and me down. But you should know your value on him means nothing. He’s your last hope, but he’s my brother, and you’ll never win this battle against me.”


  “Are you threatening me?” She quirked a brow.

  “No, ma’am. I’m advising you to choose another game to play.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  I exhaled through my nostrils, stared straight into her eyes, and I released a slow, confident smile. “Then you should be prepared to lose.”

  Chapter Ten

  AYDA

  There was so much going on in my head, it actually felt strange to walk out of the room and into the bar where no one knew what was going on inside of my body. I hadn’t realized I’d been in a bubble with Drew about the baby until I looked around and saw every guy in the place meeting my gaze and wincing because of my damn bruises.

  For them, the physical abuse was still their main focus when they looked at me, and from the scowls they all wore, the fact that the bruises had been issued by someone they’d considered one of them, stung.

  I didn’t know what to say to appease the situation. I knew reassurance was pointless. The men of the club looked fit to be tied.

  When I spotted Deeks behind the bar restocking the shelves with liquor, I headed straight for him. He seemed like a safe bet, and I was hoping he needed the distraction as much as I did. Sliding into the stool directly behind him, I slapped my palm against the counter.

  “What’s a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?”

  Deeks spun in a jerky motion, his cut slapping his sides as he floundered and almost dropped the bottle of bourbon in his hands. After a quick save, he pushed the bottle onto the counter and shook his head in disbelief.

  “Jesus, kid, you trying to kill me?” He paused and reached out a hand, his index finger brushing over the swollen bruises by my eye. He frowned, creating deeper creases in his forehead. “Makes me wanna kill the bastard all over again.”

  “It’s done now,” I said, catching Deeks’ warm hand and holding it affectionately between the two of mine. “I’m not made of glass, Deeks. They’re just bruises.”

  “They shouldn’t be there, and certainly not at the hand of a Hound.”

 

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