Without Forever: Babylon MC Book 5

by James, Victoria L.

  It was my turn to scowl. All that my bruised face was doing was reminding each and every one these guys that one of their own had been working against them for years. It hurt me to know it hurt them to look at me.

  “He was never a real Hound. A Hound would never have done any of this. Not to me or any woman attached to the club. A Hound would never have betrayed you guys or done the shit he’d been doing. He wouldn’t have stolen your money, given away your secrets... not any of it. The rat bastard was a snake who wore the cut and convinced us all that he fit in. He convinced us that he deserved to be here. But, Deeks, he’s just one man, and we can’t let that one man be responsible for everything falling apart. Especially not now; not when we need to be united.”

  Deeks curled his fingers around my hand and squeezed in encouragement, but the hurt he was feeling was still worn right there in his eyes. This wound cut deep and was going to scar the club for good. Owen’s betrayal would always be something they looked back on, a shadow cast over that blind trust they’d always had for one another. This realization pissed me off more than anything Owen had physically done or said to me. The asshole had secured himself in this club’s history for good. Owen Sinclair would never be forgotten, even when he deserved to been buried in obscurity as though he hadn’t existed at all.

  “Drew will figure it all out. He always does. Don’t you worry about that,” Deeks said confidently.

  At least that faith in their leader hadn’t changed. Belief in Drew was something every man seemed to have in common. I could see Moose nodding at the other end of the bar in agreement. Raising his bottle, Moose mumbled something unintelligible before drowning it out with a mouthful of beer.

  Deeks looked concerned for only a moment before turning his attention back to me. “You want a coffee?” he asked.

  I would have physically killed for a coffee. My body was craving it with as much enthusiasm as I needed oxygen, but what little I knew about pregnancy, I understood caffeine wasn’t a great idea—at least not in the capacity I suddenly needed it. Shaking my head in refusal was far harder than I’d thought it would be, and I watched Deeks’ eyebrows rise in surprise. I never said no to coffee.

  I guess I did now.

  “What? You think Drew didn’t feed me caffeine already?” I asked flippantly.

  “Smart man. I’ve seen you without your coffee before. Terrifying.” Deeks mocked a shudder.

  I stuck out my tongue and grinned at him, releasing his hand when he finally moved to tug it from my grip. His eyes had flickered to the door that was now bleeding bright sunshine into the darkness. I followed his gaze and immediately recognized Howard Sutton strolling in with the same confidence he’d had for the last couple of months. I never got tired of seeing how at home he was in this world now.

  Gone was the hand resting on the grip of his gun, and the swagger he’d always used to exert control. The only thing close to that now was his thumbs hanging over the buckle of his belt as he scanned the place.

  “Is that coffee I smell, Deeks?”

  “Is that a hint, chief?”

  Sutton rolled his eyes, but Deeks shot me a wink and headed to the kitchen, leaving Howard and me alone at the bar. Howard settled himself on the stool next to mine and shifted his belt to the side so he was more comfortable before he turned to face me.

  “No one gave you steak or peas yet?”

  “Jeeze, you asking me out to dinner, Howard?” I asked teasingly, my smile breaking free.

  “For your eye, smartass. It helps with the bruising.”

  “I’m fine. It’ll heal.”

  He nodded but tangled his hands together in front of him on top of the bar. To his credit, he only looked at the door once, but I could see there was something on his mind. If there was anyone suddenly capable of looking uncomfortably comfortable, it was Howard Sutton.

  “They’re watching The Hut, Ayda.”

  This wasn’t a surprise to me. Slater had noticed them, along with half of the other guys that had come and gone this morning. I’d already received a couple of texts about it. We’d been ignoring them, maintaining the fact that we had nothing to hide, but I could see why that would make Howard uncomfortable. He wasn’t supposed to be showing off his connection with us. Not as blatantly as this, anyway.

  “You shouldn’t technically be here, I’m guessing?” I asked.

  “Probably not.” He paused and looked around the place, his cheeks ballooning as he released his breath. “You want to take a ride to Rusty’s for lunch?”

  “Sure. Let me text Drew and let him know.”

  Howard rose beside me and watched as I pulled out my phone and typed in where I was going, who I was with, and who was watching my back before sliding the phone into my pocket and following Howard to the door. I knew, without a doubt, that Deeks would be following me any second now. He was set on automatic Protect Ayda mode, and that only ever made me smile to myself.

  Howard and I were sitting in his car before either of us spoke again. He’d just waved to the two cops watching The Hut, and I couldn’t help but smile as they stayed where they were and just narrowed their eyes in our general direction. I wondered whether they would follow Deeks when he pulled out, forcing them to have to put yet another car on The Hut. With all the guys going in their own directions on any given day, I was pretty sure they’d run out of cars long before we’d run out of guys.

  “Do they think you’re questioning me?”

  “Not exactly sure what those a-holes think. They’ve been at my station moving crap around and making demands of my staff like they own the place.”

  Howard’s frustration was very real. He didn’t like that kind of authority hanging around, and from the looks of things, he really didn’t like that they were using his station as a base of operations. Especially after they’d all but accused him of betraying his position after the mess at Rusty’s.

  “You’ve been working a lot lately,” I commented quietly.

  Glancing over at me for a second, Sutton quirked an eyebrow before turning his gaze back to the road. “I don’t like strangers in my house. They’re loud and disrespectful. Why? Has Sloane been complaining?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  Howard gave me a single nod as he turned toward the diner. The man still didn’t like to get chatty about his personal life. He never really had. I think that was why he’d always hated when Sloane and Tate had been together. He had to deal with all the pleasantries that came along with that—something Maisey had taken over for him after they’d married. Thinking about Maisey suddenly made me think about the kids they’d had together.

  “How are the twins?”

  “Growing up too fast,” he said after a beat. “They’ve been asking after their momma a lot. Sloane always manages to field the questions, but she’s spending more and more time with Tate and his friends. I’ve been trying to find them alternative care.”

  “Bet that’s expensive.”

  “It’s insanity, but I can’t keep asking Sloane to give up her teen years being a mother she’d never wanted to be.” He turned onto the highway and sped up. Rusty’s giant sign was barely on the horizon, so I kept talking.

  “How’s Helen?”

  Sutton did a double take on me like I’d lost my damn mind. I supposed it would seem that way after the warning Drew had issued with her release. Me? I was genuinely curious.

  “Helen Taylor is terrified, Ayda. Her whole life has been turned upside down. She was being held captive, her husband was murdered, and now her life has been threatened.”

  “Has she spoken to her girls yet?”

  “What is with all the questions?”

  “It’s called a conversation, Howard. I was just curious. I know Helen was worried about them while she was with us, and I figured the first thing she would have done when she was free was call them.”

  “She did. Apparently, they’re fine and looking forward to seeing their mom.”

  “That’s good.”
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  He looked my way again, disbelief keeping his gaze on me for an uncomfortable moment. It had only been a few days since Helen’s release. He surely had to know that we didn’t wish her any real harm. We were just protecting ourselves from a very real threat.

  “So, you and her have history, then?”

  “Nope, not going there. New topic.” He was pulling into a spot at Rusty’s, and he killed the engine. “Before you ask, I can’t tell you anything about Jedd, either, because I still don’t know anything. But I appreciate you holding off asking for this long.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “You were thinking about it.”

  I was guilty to that extent. I had been thinking about it. I just hadn’t been planning on asking him. I’d known he wouldn’t tell me anything, not before he’d seen Drew, anyway. Those two had an understanding now, and I wasn’t going to put myself in the middle of that.

  “What is a safe topic of conversation these days?”

  “Food.”

  “Howard. You had me come to Rusty’s to sit with you while you eat?”

  “Nope. I have a favor to ask.” He climbed out of the car and waited for me to do the same, grinning at me over the top of his cruiser when I found my feet again.

  “Sounds dubious.”

  Howard Sutton hadn’t ever asked me for a favor before. The last one I’d asked him for had pissed off Drew enough to have him choke the air out of the poor guy, so I figured I owed him. Following him into the diner, I headed to his table with him, only to be distracted by the sight of Libby sitting in her usual booth with another familiar face.

  One that stopped Howard in his tracks, too.

  Rosie.

  Rosie had been a Hound Whore when I’d started working off Tate’s debt in The Hut. She’d hated me from the moment she set eyes on me. I remembered her specifically because I’d heard some of the guys talking about her after she left one afternoon and never bothered coming back. Apparently, she’d been seen several times talking to Maisey, Drew’s ex, and Howard’s now deceased wife. No one knew why Rosie had stayed away, but one of the other girls had happily suggested that it had been my fault. Rosie had set her sights on Drew, apparently. I remember hearing a rumor that she’d been kicked out of Drew’s room on a night he’d chosen her to mess around with, before changing his mind and rejecting her completely. Another more diplomatic girl had said Rosie was sick of being a whore for every guy but the one she truly wanted.

  And now, here she was, talking to Libby. Our Libby, who looked completely engaged and oblivious to our arrival as she held the sobbing woman's hands over the table.

  I didn’t say anything, not to the two women or to Sutton who looked as though he’d seen a ghost. I guess he had. He wouldn’t have seen Rosie since Maisey died, and probably hadn’t expected to see her again after she’d disappeared.

  “That’s Rosie Sullivan,” Sutton said as we slid into his booth. I nodded in acknowledgment and put a finger over my lips as I leaned back against the booth in an attempt to listen to their conversation. He nodded in agreement, his hands clasping in front of him as he leaned closer to try and hear for himself.

  “–heard about the fires. I was at my mom’s when the trucks flew by, and I panicked.”

  “Awe, honey, I’m so sorry. If we’d known you were back—” Libby started.

  “You’d have what?” Rosie laughed, her tone chilly. “Called me? I don’t think so, Lib. No one cares about me, or what I do anymore. Not since she showed up. Even Gemma told me to stop calling her.”

  “Gemma told you to stop calling her because you got her kicked out of Slater’s bed. Not because Ayda came on the scene.”

  “Slater? Like Gemma cares about him. Isn’t she with that guy with the fucked up eyebrows now? Kenny?”

  “No.” I started hearing the skepticism in Libby’s tone and felt proud of her for keeping her guard up. “He’s not with Gemma. Anyway, what does it matter to you? You said you were done with club life.”

  “I was. I was in a relationship away from all of that, but I still cared, Libby. It’s not that I didn’t want to be there. I was just in love with someone other than Drew.”

  “And what? You’ve just changed your mind and now want in with The Hounds again because you’ve changed your mood and mind about who to love?” Libby’s tone was becoming colder with every word.

  “No, asshole. I was dumped.”

  “By who?”

  “You know what? I’m done. I shouldn’t have come here.”

  Silence hung in the air, and I glanced at Howard. There was definitely more to this story than Rosie was giving. There was also another reason Rosie was here, but we weren’t going to find out what that was today. Rosie was already slipping out of the booth in a petulant fit of rage and marching to the door without so much as a backward glance.

  Apparently, the rendezvous hadn’t gone the way she’d planned. Something that was reiterated and underlined several times when Libby finally muttered a simple, “Bitch.”

  Howard and I didn’t dare say anything, and we waited and watched until Libby left, too.

  “Damn,” Howard muttered in his usual grumble as he threw himself back on his side of the booth. Rubbing his cheek with his palm, he looked part bewildered and part bemused. “I think I owe Drew another apology.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, suddenly hungrier than I’d ever been in my life and pulling the menu from its place behind the condiments.

  “I thought he’d organized her disappearance.”

  “Whose? Rosie’s?”

  “For damn sure.”

  “You really did have him wrong all along, chief.”

  “All right. Let’s not make me admit I was wrong about Tucker all over again. It’s becoming too much. Every time I have to say that out loud, a little baby muscle grows in Drew’s ego and sprouts up to make him love himself even more than he already does.”

  My bark of laughter came so hard and fast from sheer surprise, and it turned into a hacking cough that only seemed to spur on Howard’s quiet chuckle of genuine humor.

  Chapter Eleven

  DREW

  I’d been questioned in this particular room a hundred times before. There’d been days in my early adult life where I’d had to sit opposite the town’s policemen and women, spending hours convincing them I hadn’t done anything wrong—endless hours of them trying to pin down the cocky rebel kid who they saw as nothing more than a nuisance in their otherwise peaceful small town.

  I’d stared into each man’s eyes with pure hatred pouring out of me.

  Now?

  Now, I wished it was the town’s chief I was looking at instead of the arrogant ATF agent with a bald patch bigger than a baseball diamond on his head, and eyes that wanted to bring me under.

  I wished it was Sutton sitting opposite me instead of this fucker.

  I stared at the ATF agent as I leaned back in the chair, one arm over the back of it, my other arm resting on the table in front of me. I could stare a guy in the eye for days on end and not feel awkward about it. Especially a guy who was, without intention, declaring himself an enemy.

  Time dragged on before I heard the familiar sound of Jedd’s heavy boots stomping down the corridor. When Winnie pushed through the door and held it open for him, Jedd walked in, his eyes cast down before he sat in his chair opposite me.

  He rested his hands on the table, leaving me to raise a brow at Winnie and gesture for her to get rid of the asshole in the corner. With a roll of her eyes, she coughed gently and signaled for her colleague to get out of there.

  Once he’d left, Winnie shut the door behind her and positioned herself at the end of the table.

  “You’ve got ten minutes,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

  “Thanks.” I smiled sarcastically, letting my eyes drift over to Jedd.

  He didn’t look guilty.

  He didn’t look sorry.

  He didn’t look angry, scared, or confused.


  Jedd, my ever-reliable vice president, looked… peaceful.

  A minute must have passed before Winnie blew out a breath in irritation.

  She wanted words to be exchanged. She wanted answers; to be on the inside and to see what happened when the president of the MC she was trying to bring down confronted the VP who appeared to have betrayed them.

  She’d be waiting a long damn time.

  I watched Jedd, neither moving or making a sound other than to lightly drum my fingers on the table between us as I waited for him to look at me.

  It happened slowly—a subtle rise of his eyes as he peeked up through his thick, black eyebrows and locked in on me. My nostrils flared, and my lips twitched, but I never blinked or looked away. Jedd held my gaze, and so many emotions ran through me. Fuck, I’d spent so long looking at the club as a whole, as a family, as a group I had to protect… it felt like a lifetime since I’d looked at the men as individuals.

  The day I’d found Deeks outside The Hut crying as he looked at the picture of me, him, and Harry was the last time I’d stared deep into the eyes of a brother I loved and really, truly seen him.

  It was happening again with Jedd right then.

  I fucking loved him, and he loved me. There was a loyalty in his stare that didn’t need to be questioned, and I realized at that moment that I’d never needed to speak to him.

  I’d only ever needed to see him—to be one hundred percent certain he was still with me.

  I raised my chin and released a breath through my nose, but Jedd’s face never shifted. His lips never parted, and his eyes never strayed from mine.

  My fingers drummed harder, the force finding a rhythm that matched my racing heart and quiet mind.

  “Five minutes and not a word exchanged. Don’t waste this time, boys. Who knows when you’ll get it again,” Winnie eventually spoke.

  Jedd’s smirk pulled at one corner of his mouth, making his long beard twitch.

  I huffed out a small laugh and shook my head.

  “You’re a bastard, Thomas,” I told him softly.

  “Learned from the best,” he muttered, low and quiet.