A world I was beginning to wish I could drag into reality.
It felt like I’d only been asleep for a minute when I felt the gentle tugging of my hand that was hanging off the edge of the bed. With a groan of protest, I rolled my head on the pillow, facing the direction of the tugging.
“Tucker,” came a rough voice.
It took one thunderous heartbeat for my eyes to fly open and my body to tense.
Jedd was hanging over me, his silhouette the only thing I could really make out as the light from the adjoining bathroom poured through the crack in the door. He had a finger pressed to his lips, and his dark eyes narrowed as he used his other hand to point to Ayda.
I glanced down at her blissfully asleep against me. She was holding on tight, clinging to me in a way that made me want to curl into her even more and spend a week there. But Jedd was back, in the middle of the fucking night, telling me to be quiet, and the peace Ayda had shrouded me in was slipping away by the second.
With a sigh, I peeled Ayda off my body, making sure not to wake her as I lifted my groggy head from the bed and began to slide out from beneath her. Jedd was backing away toward the door, his silent instruction clear.
I walked out into the corridor, blinking against the muted lights that lit the way. I’d dressed in some loose fitting, gray sweats, and was pulling my white T-shirt down over my body when I froze in place.
It wasn’t just Jedd waiting for me.
Eric was there, too.
I’d barely had time to blink when a groggy-looking Slater Portman was shuffling into place beside me, rubbing the tiredness out of his eye as he struggled to stifle his yawn.
I looked between all three of them before I began to walk forward, Slater dragging his bare feet behind me. Eric was standing behind the bar, as stoic as ever, and Jedd was standing by his stool with a suppressed grin on his face.
“What fucking time is it?” Slater croaked.
“About one in the morning,” Jedd answered.
I blew all the air out of my cheeks and glanced between him and my father.
“What’s going on?” I asked roughly.
Jedd gestured for me to take a seat on the stool as he slid into place on his. Dad uncapped the bourbon, lined up four glasses, and poured heavy measures into each one.
“They let you out in the middle of the night?” I questioned, scowling at Jedd just as Eric slid a tumbler into my hand. The gulp I took sent a burning fire into my chest—one that woke me up without fail before I dropped the glass back to the counter.
“They offered to let me go two days ago.”
“That’s a joke, right?”
Jedd glanced at Eric, as though waiting for his instruction rather than mine. When he eventually looked back at me, his eyes were light, the darkness I’d come to know him wear so well… gone.
“I was free to walk any time I liked.”
“But you stayed…”
He nodded slowly. “All part of the plan.”
“To create trust with that Winnie chick?”
“That, and…” He trailed off and glanced down at his finger running circles around the rim of his glass. “The thing is, Drew, everyone in this club loves you. You know that, right?”
I scowled harder, not needing to answer him when his eyes looked up to meet mine. I knew. That didn’t mean I had to say it aloud.
“We love Ayda, too,” Jedd said quietly. “It’s weird. In the grand scheme of the club, she hasn’t been around long. You two haven’t been together for years. I don’t even think you’ve celebrated a birthday together yet, right?”
That was right. April 10th was approaching, marking the celebration of the birth of the greatest woman I’d ever known, and my birthday was June 3rd—a summer child with a winter heart. It was hard to imagine Ayda never being in my life. In such a small amount of time, we’d endured, felt, and survived so much, my heart often tried to convince me that she’d always been around.
That I’d always loved her.
“Right,” I found myself breathing to Jedd.
“So, when Eric began speaking to me on the sly just a week or so ago, and he said that he wanted to set backup plans in place that would save both you and Ayda, you know I had to hear him out, too, yes?”
My jaw tensed, the muscles twitching as I glanced at Slater and Eric. “Right.” I swallowed hard.
“It wasn’t just about saving you, Drew. It was about saving Ayda. It was about saving you as individuals, and as the couple we’ve come to love having around here.”
“Tell me everything, Jedd,” I begged him quietly.
He did. Jedd told me how Eric had approached him, warning Jedd of something big on the horizon. Something he didn’t know the finer details of yet, but something that had his gut warning him that they needed insurances in place in case The Hut came under attack from anyone. Things that would keep the club, as well as Ayda and me, safe. Since the ATF arrived in town, the plan had always been for Jedd and Eric to slip away and cause a distraction when the time came.
False promises of intel.
False teases of turning rat in order to get out of it all.
More misdirection.
Eric had asked Jedd because he knew Slater was too loyal to keep secrets from me—even ones that would protect my future in the long run. He’d been right in that assessment, too. Slater was loyaler than loyal. The guy struggled to look me in the eye when a lie was resting on his tongue. I’d have figured him out straight away. But Jedd…
Jedd was a natural born VP.
There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do if it served the greater good.
He had all the makings of being president.
He was controlled, a tactician, a military soldier dressed in leather and ink.
I, more than anyone, knew Jedd would lay his life and reputation on the line to defend his president and his club.
“Harry had hinted to me before that the club had a rat, but in typical Harry fashion, he called it a mole—just a man or a whore with a big mouth and loose lips. He never said anything about it being Owen Sinclair who would betray us.”
“And that made you wary of everyone around here,” I added, purposely making it a statement rather than a question. “And that’s why you’ve been asking more questions lately, brooding more, looking disappointed at all of us and having me think that, for all this time, you’ve been disappointed in me.”
It was Jedd’s turn to frown. “How could I ever be disappointed in you?”
With a shrug, I answered honestly. “Because I went and fell in love with a girl who took up more space in my heart than this club ever could.”
The silence was tense between all of us when my eyes met Jedd’s again.
“That’s what you think?” he eventually asked, his voice hoarse.
“The thought had crossed my mind once or twice. You blamed me for disappearing after Harry died and—”
“I blamed you for closing the fucking doors on us all, Drew, not for disappearing or falling in love with Ayda. Fuck me, do you know how many people in this club wish they had what you have? Do you know how many of us lay on our beds, letting random whores suck our dicks while we look up at the ceiling and dream of a love like you’ve managed to find?”
I leaned back and straightened my shoulders, unable to hide my surprise at his admissions.
“You don’t get to make assumptions, Tucker,” Jedd told me. “Not you. That’s not who you are. You’ve always been upfront, straight to the point. Next time you think I’ve got a problem with you being happy, either ask me outright or fucking man up and realize that I could never have an issue with you finally wearing a fucking smile on that grim-ass face of yours. This isn't just about you anymore. Get that into your thick skull once and for all. You don’t get to be the only guy around here making sacrifices that send you off to jail for five years. Harry did it, and if I want to do it, too, then screw you, I’ll fucking do it whichever way I see fit.”
Eric’s hu
ff of laughter had me looking his way, watching as he dipped his chin to his chest to hide his smile and ran a hand over his forehead.
I turned back to Jedd, resting my elbow on the bar. “You quite finished with your dramatic speeches, you big pussy?”
“For now.”
“Right. Bravo. Glad you got that shit off your chest.” I smirked, unable to hide how good it felt to know a man like Jedd cared so much about Ayda and me, he was willing to do whatever it took to keep us safe. “Now tell Slate and me everything we need to know. What does Winnie have on us?”
“If she wanted us all to go down, she has enough evidence to put a few of us away for life.”
My face fell, and all the nightmares of returning to prison swirled above my head like a dark, cold cloud of doom.
But Jedd’s flat smile slowly rose into a contradicting shit-eating grin.
“What do you mean, if she wanted us?”
“We’re not enough for her now. She’s got bigger men to chase—ones that could earn her the promotion she’s always dreamed of. While I was inside, Eric was putting things in place to tie our very own Sinclair, Jon Taylor, and Mayor Walsh together.”
“How?” I asked, looking at Eric who was now leaning back against the bar wall with his hands folded over his chest.
He shook his head like the information he was about to part with didn’t matter. “I took a trip to Dallas to visit Clint’s family. They send their love, by the way.” He paused, taking in my reaction and seeming somewhat pleased with himself. “They gave me Clint’s old letters. I even got the ones mentioning Harry in them. I took them to Jon Taylor’s house. Jon’s widow was very accommodating in getting me the key to their place via Howard Sutton.”
“Sutton’s been in on this?” I scowled.
“Not really,” Eric answered. “But the guy loves you, too, and he was happy to help. So I got the key, planted the letters in Jon Taylor’s house, along with some of the evidence Ayda pulled from Owen’s place and Harry’s files. Evidence that made it look like Taylor was confiscating the letters from the prisoners before they were sent, and keeping them in safe hiding for Mayor Walsh and Sinclair.”
I blinked hard, trying to keep track of it all, but Eric’s voice was soon taking over the room again.
“Mix that with the evidence I left in the back of the repo truck I dumped in the water just off his land, there was enough to suggest some shady shit has been going down between those three men. Shit that was done in an attempt to pin murders, corruption, drug deals, and money laundering on The Hounds of Babylon.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, looking back at Jedd. “How did all this get back to ATF?”
“When Sutton was on shift, he came to visit me in the cell. He told me whenever Eric had a message, and he passed those messages on.”
“Messages telling you the evidence was in place, and you could give the ATF your suspicions?”
“Something like that.” He beamed, clearly proud of himself.
“And she bought it? Winnie trusted you?”
It was Jedd’s turn to swallow, a look of bashfulness creeping over him for a split second before he smoothed down his long, black beard and cleared his throat. “Let’s just say that a bond was forged in there. One I think Winnie actually believes exists mutually.”
I raised my brow in question.
“It never hurts to have people in high places wanting to fuck you.”
“You fucking snake,” I forced out through a proud smile. I had no idea if there was more going on with Jedd and Winnie than he was letting on, but right now, I couldn’t think about that. “Okay, so what about Walsh? Where does Rubin tie in with all this? I know you said he’s working for us on the inside, but how?”
“He’s getting ready to set his father up as we speak.”
“Just like that.” I shrugged sarcastically. “No remorse, no guilt, no questions?”
“Apparently not.”
“And how does he plan on doing that? How does he plan on going against someone with Walsh’s obvious experience of being a two-faced triple threat?”
“You need to have more faith.”
“I need to have more facts.”
“Fine. Rubin has the laptop Ayda grabbed from Owen’s place…” Eric interrupted, dragging my attention to him. “Once I got it unlocked by some guys I used to know down in Corsicana… I guess that’s when I really knew we were going to be okay.”
I found myself leaning closer, desperate to put myself nearer a definite happy ending that was being dangled in front of me like a fucking carrot.
“Cut the shit, Eric. Give it to me straight. Tell me what we’ve got on him.”
“Yeah, man, spit it out. I’m fucking dying over here,” Slater grumbled behind me.
“It turns out Owen really did have a lot of insurances in place of his own: taped meetings between him, Jon Taylor, and Mayor Walsh. Photographs of warehouses filled with guns, drugs, and a basement or two that showed pictures of safes being stuffed with money by guys dressed in black. Owen knew he was running a dangerous gauntlet, and that fucker wanted crash mats all around him if anyone from the other side ever decided to turn.”
My blood boiled at the thought of one of our own deceiving us that way, but then my mind went to something else. “Which meant he had all those insurances on us, too.”
“He had a fucking lot of shit on us, Drew.”
“What kind of shit?” I asked, my heart picking up speed.
He tilted his head to one side, his sympathy pouring out of him in the form of a sigh. “Owen had cameras all over The Hut. In cars out in the yard, on bikes.”
“My fucking bike?” I asked in a rush. “How the fuck wouldn’t I have seen those?”
“They make them the size of a needlepoint now. You’d have to be looking, and since we didn’t expect a rat…”
“We didn’t see shit.” I slammed my fist down angrily, pushing my fists into my forehead as the rage built up inside of me. “Tell me what he had,” I ground out, too furious to look up. Memories of random kills in the nights with Eric taunted me, where grief provided too much of a blinker on any consequences, and rage was the fuel that kept us hurting people. Flashes of Hernandez and The Emps. Nights where Ayda and I had ridden out and…
My head shot up at once. “Did he have pictures of Ayda?” I growled. “Did that sick fuck have pictures of my girl?”
“Drew, you—”
“Tell me, Eric, or so help me...”
He blinked twice before he answered. “He had pictures of everyone. Videos, too.”
I found myself jumping from my stool, needing to burn off the energy by pacing back and forth.
“Jesus Christ,” I hissed.
“Brother,” Jedd said as he tried to reach for my arm, but I shrugged him off. Sinclair had seen my girl naked, hadn’t he? He’d seen us… both of us… doing… what? Everything. Every fucking thing. What had he seen? What had he heard? What had he passed on to Walsh and Taylor?
Placing my hands on my hips, I came to a stop, closed my eyes and let my head hang.
“If he wasn’t already dead, I’d rip that man to pieces all over again. I’d tear his tongue from his mouth and feed it to the sewer rats. I’d spoon his fucking eyeballs out and then shove them down his raw, bleeding throat.”
“What’s done is done, Drew,” Eric told me firmly, no emotion in his voice. I looked up slowly and met his gaze, sadness coating my eyes. “And everything he ever had on us is gone,” he added. “Tomorrow, we’ll get Kenny and Slater to sweep every building we own. They can make sure there are no more cameras in place.”
“Did you see it?” I asked sharply, not caring about tomorrow, just needing to know. “Did you see the shit Owen had on my girl?”
“I’m not that sick to watch.”
“And where is it all now?”
“It’s like it never existed,” Eric confirmed, his confidence shining through with the slight lift of his chin.
“How do we
know he hasn’t, you know…” I waved a hand around flippantly. “Whatever Tate and Rubin always say they’re doing with their cells. Backed stuff up or whatever?”
“The guys in Corsicana helped me delete all the accounts it could be connected to. If any of it is in cyberspace, it’s a million light years away.”
“And you can trust those tech guys?”
Eric narrowed his eyes. “Never work with anyone you don’t have a hold over. I’ve got my own shit on them. Don’t you worry. They’re too afraid to look me in the eye, never mind cross me.”
“You’re a real shady motherfucker, ain’t you?” I asked in absolute seriousness.
“When it comes to those I love, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to protect them.”
And despite all his years of absence, I was beginning to struggle to find any hint of a lie in his statements.
Running my hands through my hair, I blew out a breath and held them at the back of my neck. “Okay, so now what do we do?”
Eric glanced at Jedd, and Jedd turned to me, holding my gaze. The baton had been handed back to my VP.
“Now, we wait for Winnie and her crew to raid Walsh’s house. Once they’ve got him, all of this is over, Drew.”
“Nothing is ever that easy for The Hounds of Babylon, Jedd.”
“Well, there is one more thing we need to take care of before all this is set into motion. Something that we can’t overlook now I’m out of custody.”
I frowned harder. “Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like what you have to say?
Jedd’s smile could have outshone the sun, and his eyes twinkled with delight. “One of our men just died, pres. It’s time for us to dig out the black outfits and turn on the crocodile tears. We’ve got an entire town to convince, not just the law. If we don’t mourn that son of a bitch, we’re back under the spotlight of suspicion. Whether we like it or not, we have a funeral to arrange.”
Chapter Sixteen
AYDA
Organizing a memorial in three days was so much easier when you hated the son of a bitch who was being mourned. The fact that every man riding behind the hearse would have rather set the coffin inside on fire than put it in the ground was neither here nor there. We’d had several ATF SUV’s following us through Babylon, and we’d had to make our mourning convincing. Owen was supposed to be one of us, so we’d sold it as best we could.
Without Forever: Babylon MC Book 5 Page 11