That was one promise we both knew I couldn't make her. It all depended on what my brother had to say.
"What is this I heard about Fallon pulling a gun on Colson?" I asked as Cash walked in, eyes a little sunken under puffy, exhausted eyes.
While I always knew Cash was capable of being the boss—which was why I had him as my vice president—I also knew he didn't want it. It had only been a few days, a week, tops, and it was already wearing too much on him.
"Shit, bro, it's been a rough couple of days," he admitted, taking a seat. "But here are the highlights. West told Huck you were gone, so Florida came up to help with the search. We have made about two dozen new enemies punching our way across the East coast trying to get answers. Only to find out that this all hit a lot closer to home than we realized. The issue with Colson was, he's seeing this chick."
"Colson?" I asked, surprised. I never thought he would look twice at a woman. Jelena was the only girl in his life.
"I know. She's his neighbor. Single mom. Pain in the ass teenaged boy."
"Is there any other kind?" I asked, smirking, thinking about all the shit my boys thought they could get away with at that age.
"Anyway, through a bunch of shit going down, that kid, Jacob, was holding your money clip. Fallon saw. Got a little crazy. Colson stepped in. Then the gun thing."
"Jacob, Colson's girl's son, had my money clip?" I clarified, the pieces coming together in my head.
"Yeah. What?" Cash asked, seeing my gears turning.
"He was with the other guy. The one who really had a lot of fun doing this to me," I said, waving my good arm down my body that was still mostly pain-free, but I knew the meds would wear off eventually, and I would feel like one giant bruise once again.
"You saw him."
"He was how I got out," I admitted. "I talked him into lowering the chain a bit when the other guy wasn't around. He did it. And I got enough strength back in my arms to get free. What the fuck is her son into that he...oh," I said, sighing out my breath, the last piece falling into place. "Third Street."
That made a lot of sense.
The lack of recognition on my part, since their members changed constantly, their leadership almost as often. As well as the age range of the men.
"Yeah. Fucking Third Street. After all this goddamn time, they decide to try to puff their chests and step to us. Eva's—that's Colson's woman's—brother is a part of Third Street. And, apparently, has been trying to rope the kid into it."
"Why the fuck would Third Street want to take me, though," I wondered out loud, "when they could have just amped up their H trade or gone into other drugs? There's never a shortage of people looking for them. This is out of their wheelhouse. It doesn't make sense."
"Yeah, I know," Cash agreed. "But we have time to figure that out. As of right now, no one has tried to make a move on anyone else. The clubhouse is safe. The women and kids are at Hailstorm. We will figure it out. Once you're up to it. And that wasn't a demand for you to get out of the bed. As much as I am ready to hand the reins back to you, man, I want you to make sure you're good first."
I gave him a nod at that, figuring I could stay the night. That should be long enough to get some rest, get some food, feel human again.
But then I needed to show my face, see my men, assure them that I was fine, get a plan of action into play. Even if we didn't move right away.
"Anything else I should know?"
Oh, shit," he said, laughing. "I forgot. We had a mole," he said, shaking his head. "A fucking mole for months."
"Not Brooks," I said, wincing. I liked that kid. I thought he had a lot of potential.
"Nah. Tyler. Helped Jacob escape that night he came to steal your clip and help save your life. Got him down in the basement. I think Huck, Fallon, and Pagan are taking turns scaring the shit out of him. But I told them to keep their hands off until you were there."
"Fuck, man, you've been busy."
"Psh," he said, shaking his head. "Mostly, they threw my ass up in the glass room for my own protection while they had all the fun."
"They were being smart."
"They never would have thrown you in the glass room."
"No," I agreed. "But they needed to make sure we kept a central leadership. And Wolf, as good as a brother as he is, isn't exactly communicative enough to run shit."
"Yeah, well, your ass needs to be locked in a fucking bubble from now on, because I can't do this shit again. I aged ten fucking years in a week."
"I'm still kicking. And I have a lot of thinking and planning to do."
"Not tonight, man. Just take the fucking night. Summer is going to make herself sick if you sign out of here too fast. Give the woman a break. Lo said she hasn't been eating or sleeping. Let her fuss over you for one night. Then get back to shit."
"That's the plan," I agreed. "Are the cops here yet?"
"Managed to get rid of the uniforms, but Lloyd just came to replace them instead. You know him."
Yeah, I knew him. Not exactly as understanding as Collings had been, but not on a witch hunt either. He wouldn't go away until we answered his questions. And he wouldn't believe any of the shit I fed to him. But he would write it down, file his report, and let it drop.
I could deal with Lloyd.
"Alright, thanks. Go back and fill them in, yeah? Give them one last night of leadership for me. Let them get a little reckless then sleep it off. Shit is going to be crazy for a while. And tell Huck to hang back if he doesn't have any pressing issues. What?"
"Nothing. They showed up beat to shit. Che could barely move. Think the new chapter is hitting some rough patches."
"They'll get through them," I said, having no doubt. I'd chosen carefully. And so had Huck with his men.
"So will we," Cash added, knocking his knuckles on the side rail of the bed before making his way toward the door.
He was right.
We would.
And then we would get revenge.
And then, well, a lot of shit was going to happen.
I just had to iron out the kinks first.
"Alright, what lies are you going to tell me today, Reign?" Lloyd asked a moment later, stepping into the room, brow raised, smile knowing.
"All of 'em," I told him, smirking.
"Yep. Sounds about right. Let's get this over with, so you can get out of here and I pretend I don't know you will be plotting some sort of war on the streets of my town."
And so I did.
Then I let my woman fuss over me, climb into bed with me, fall asleep on my chest.
Eventually, I caught some rest too.
Then I signed myself out.
And I walked out of that hospital, ready for whatever was going to come next.
Or, you know, so I fucking thought.
ELEVEN
Eva
I had no idea what the president looked like.
But if I had five minutes to sit down and ponder that kind of thing, I imagined I would have pictured someone almost exactly like the man who made his way through the front door of the Henchmen clubhouse the afternoon after he got out of surgery.
His face was bruised.
He walked a bit hunched to the side like his ribs hurt.
And his arm was in a complicated-looking sling.
But even so, he was the perfect biker leader—tall, fit, handsome, keen-eyed. He was a sexy silver fox who wordlessly got the respect of all his men as he walked inside, everyone falling silent mid-conversation when they saw their leader returning.
My heart ached in my chest at the sight of him, knowing that my son had seen that, had known the abuse he had been enduring, and thought it was okay, turned his cheek, tried to even cover for the men responsible.
I hadn't gotten a lot of time to talk to Jacob. You know... rationally. When I wasn't a raving lunatic. Though, to be fair, I still whole-heartedly believed I had a right to be a crazy person about his involvement in such a fucked up situation.
But after the yelling and lecturi
ng and crying—on both our parts, though I wouldn't rat him out about that to the men around him—Colson had come back to talk to me, Jacob had passed out watching his disgusting horror movie, and we hadn't gotten any alone time after that.
I felt my stomach twisting as the man—Reign—scanned the room, looking all his men in the eye, acknowledging them and their injuries in their efforts to get him back.
I couldn't imagine having a support system like that.My gaze slid to Colson, wondering if he was aware just how blessed he was to have them. He seemed to sense my gaze, turning to look at me, moving back a step to stand behind me, giving my hand a quick squeeze, mistaking my look for one of worry or fear.
"Hope you guys had a few for me last night," Reign said, getting some smiles. "Huck," he singled out the giant with the granite-like jaw. "I appreciate you coming up. I know you have your own shit going on," he said, offering his good hand to the man who took it, giving him a shrug like it was no big deal to drive all the way from Florida, leaving his whole life behind, to pitch in.
"We have a lot to go over. We are going to have an emergency church meeting, but I see someone I need to have a talk with," Reign said, his gaze falling on Jacob who was trying to blend in with the wall. "After that, I have some talking to do with our guest downstairs," he added, getting some grunts and curses from the gathered men. "Pagan, can I count on you to be my good arm?" he asked, gaze falling on a man who looked like a younger, and even more attractive, Robert De Niro.
"Fuck yeah," Pagan agreed, looking eager, cracking his scarred knuckles.
"You must be Eva," Reign said, stopping in front of me, and I was pretty sure there was kindness in his eyes like Colson claimed.
"Yes," I agreed, nodding.
"Jacob's mom."
"Yeah."
"I hope you weren't too hard on him. He's the only reason I managed to get away," he told me, knocking my breath out of my chest.
"What?" I hissed, shaking my head.
"Yeah. He might be a liar and a thief and have some real shitty friends, but he's not all bad. Has a conscience in there still. You can work with that," he told me, shrugging.
"I, ah, this is news to me," I admitted. "I already screamed at him," I added, wincing.
"Well, he deserved that at least," Reign agreed, smiling. "Come on, let's go talk," he said, jerking his chin at Jacob who seemed to shrink smaller and smaller as he made his way across the room to us. "You too," he said to Colson.
"Sit," I demanded as we walked into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for him.
To that, he chuckled, but lowered himself down.
"My wife would be happy to know I have some woman here demanding I take it easy."
"Well, you just got out of surgery. I can't imagine the hospital wanted you to leave. Do you want some coffee? A bottle of whiskey?"
"Coffee would be good," he agreed, tapping the table with three fingers. "Jacob, take a seat," he demanded.
"Go on. You gotta deal with the consequences," Colson said, nudging Jacob forward.
There was a tug inside me, wanting to grab my son, push him behind my back, protect him from even harsh words this man might want to throw at him.
But the bigger part of me understood that wasn't the right move, that my kid had to learn to face up to the consequences of his actions. He wasn't my little five-year-old with teary eyes anymore. He would be a man soon. He had to learn what that meant. And, in a strange way, I felt like these men could help show him that.
Besides, Reign was a hell of a lot calmer than I was about the whole situation, so I figured that whatever was coming wouldn't be that bad.
"First of all, thank you for loosening the chain. I don't think you knew that you were helping me escape doing that, but you wanted to take away some of my pain. That shows you still have some good in you. And I appreciate that. But that said, kid, you fucked up. Associating with people like that, being led instead of thinking for yourself. Seems like you have a good Ma with a good head on her shoulders. So you can't say it was because you weren't raised right. You were just being an idiot."
"My uncle—"
"Don't you dare bring up Miguel again, bud," I demanded, teeth gritting.
"Miguel was your friend with the bat," Reign surmised. "Yeah, thought so," he said, nodding when Jacob's gaze fell to the table. "I get that family means something. But if your choice was between a mother who loves you and a sadistic bastard who wanted to lead you down a bad path, and you chose the latter, you made the wrong choice. That man came in every day to beat the shit out of me while I was strung up. Only a pussy beats up on someone who can't hit back. Sorry," he said, looking over at me.
"Please, he's heard worse. From me, most likely," I told him, smiling a little when he smirked.
"I get that you're young and you think running with a crew like that would be fun or interesting or make you a badass or some shit. But most of the kids your age who get involved in Third Street end up doing the dirty work for the older members, so you take the fall when the cops come around, not them. There's nothing honorable about that. And your uncle is a dick for many reasons, but being willing to have that be your future is top of that list. You want your mom to have to come and visit you in jail?"
"No."
"You want to go to jail?
"No."
"Then you got to shape the fuck up."
"If this was your son, how would you punish him?" I asked, not wanting him to get off with a slap on the wrist.
"Manual labor around here, first. Second, mandatory karate lessons to learn some control and respect. Which we will be arranging for Jacob. Like I said, I don't think he's a bad kid. He's just got some bad influences. But not for long," he said, his tone sending a chill through me.
I wasn't naive.
I understood how this worked.
Miguel didn't get to walk away from this.
Or, if he did, he didn't get to go on unscathed, at least.
I knew I should have felt some sympathy—a better woman would have—but all I felt was an odd numbness. I mean, my brother had knowingly exposed my child to something incredibly dangerous. And it was only because these bikers were good men underneath it all that my kid was walking away from this. Other organizations wouldn't have spared him just because of his age.
"Go on out there and get to cleaning up the mess the men made last night," Reign demanded. Jacob quickly got up and left the room.
"I don't think I've ever seen him jump up to follow through with a chore that fast before."
"Helps, I think, that he knows I'm armed," Reign quipped, giving me a smirk. "The guys around here, they aren't going to go light on him. He's going to be tired."
"Good. Maybe he'll be too tired to sneak out then," I said, rolling my eyes. "Thank you for going easy on him. I will look into the karate thing. It probably would be good for him." I didn't know where the money would come from, but I would figure it out.
"Don't worry about it. We'll get it arranged."
"Cash and his wife own a martial arts gym. There are karate classes for kids his age with instructors from Hailstorm," Colson explained.
"I can't let—"
"Yeah, you can, babe," Reign said, waving me off. "It's nothing. And it will give him a new focus. And between doing work around here and martial arts classes, and school, he will be too beat to get into any kind of trouble. But speaking of pain in the ass kids, I've talked to Fallon about pulling a gun on you."
"It's not a big deal," Colson insisted, shaking his head.
"It's a big fucking deal," Reign corrected.
"He was worried about you."
"And that is no excuse. Not to pull a gun on a brother, anyway. If it was someone outside the club, this would be a non-issue. But that shit doesn't fly here. Not even if I am missing. Or dead. He knows that now. So you two," he said, nodding toward us. "You're a thing?"
"I, ah," I stammered, unsure how to respond to that. Because, well, we were sort of starting a thing, but did t
hat qualify as "a thing" yet? I didn't think it did.
"It's new, but yeah," Colson answered.
"Okay. In that case, babe, your brother..."
"I know," I cut him off. "I understand. And, I mean, that's the lifestyle he chose. These are the choices he continues to make."
"He's still your brother."
"He stopped being my brother when he tried to turn my son against me and get him into a gang," I told him, hearing the heat slip into my tone as I turned to make coffee. "How do you take it?" I asked, waving toward the cups, knowing how Colson took his.
"Black is fine. My brother says you have a mother at home," he said as I handed him the coffee, careful to place it so he could easily reach for it with his good arm.
"I, ah, yeah. She has dementia."
"I'm sure you're eager to get back to her, but I think it might be best for you and Jacob to stay here for another couple days."
"Colson already told me I have to and that I can't go to work," I added, feeling my stomach twist.
"Will you lose your job?"
"I have sick leave."
"Okay. It won't be long. We just need to have church to talk it over."
"You talk things like this over at church?" I asked, brows drawing together, getting a chuckle out of Reign and Colson.
"It means a meeting," Colson explained. "Just the brothers."
"Oh, okay. That makes more sense."
"Feel free to make yourselves at home. I'm sure you're comfortable in Colson's room, and we can put up Jacob in the barracks. Seems we have an empty bed open now."
My gut twisted a bit at the reminder about the man in the basement.
I would have to become okay with things I never would have been alright with before, I realized, if I continued to let something grow between Colson and me.
He was a biker. An outlaw biker. He ran guns for a living. As did all his brothers.
That lifestyle brought with it certain risks. And it came with an understanding that traitors couldn't be tolerated, that blood would be on the hands of everyone around you, that the law would always look sideways at you because of your association.
How did the women—especially the ones who had led very normal lives previously—come to accept these risks and this lifestyle for not only themselves, but their children?
Colson (The Henchmen MC Book 20) Page 13