by Levine, Nina
After the meeting ended, I headed towards the front of the clubhouse, looking for Tatum. Unfortunately, I didn’t find her. Instead, I found Detective fucking Ryland.
“We need to take a walk,” he said, a smug look on his face and swagger to match.
Hitting him with a filthy scowl, I said, “I can assure you, Ryland, you’re the last person I need to take a walk with.”
His eyebrow arched. “You want your men to hear what I have to say to you?”
Could the motherfucker be any more of a prick? “I don’t keep fucking secrets from my club. Spit out whatever the fuck you came here for and then leave.”
“Righto then. As you’re aware, I’m talking with Marx about the activities of your club. On top of that, I have other sources I’ve been having conversations with, and I’m piecing together the crimes you and your club have committed over the last decade and a half.”
The headache that hit during church intensified, and the violent impulses I constantly battled consumed me. It took every ounce of restraint not to flatten him. Pulling out a smoke, I lit it and inhaled deeply while counting to ten. When I knew I’d pulled myself together enough not to tell him to go fuck himself, I said, “You’re telling me this because?”
That smug look returned to his face, pissing me the fuck off. “Because I want you to know it’s only a matter of time before I have everything I need to lock you up for the rest of your life. And after I do that, I’m taking your club down with you. Be ready.”
With that, he left through the front door of the clubhouse while I watched him go, mentally filing through every option I had to sort him out.
As he exited, Tatum entered, shooting him a look that expressed her hatred of him. She and I had come a long way since the day I’d told Nitro to deal with her. His hesitation in doing what I’d asked had coloured my view of her, as had her tendency to express her thoughts of me, but I’d slowly come around to appreciating what she offered the club.
“What did he want?” she demanded. Good. She’d need that fight to help us get Nitro out.
“To tell me he’s gunning for me and the club.”
Her lips flattened. “Like you didn’t already know that.”
“Yes.” As much as he angered me, though, his actions today provided me with information that would help us figure out how best to work against him. “It seems he’s a little too invested in this, which will work well for us.”
She nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “True. At some point he’ll cross a line.”
I smiled for the first time today. “And you and I will be ready for him when he does that.”
“You and I?”
“I want you to liaise with Bronze and keep on top of everything we know about Ryland. Do some digging yourself. Find out his weaknesses, his strengths, all about his family, everything you can. Figure out a way we can use the law against him, especially when he crosses that line.”
“I’m surprised, King. I assumed you’d just remove him from the equation.”
“I plan to. But not before I figure out what he knows, who told him, and who else knows. I’ll need an in for all that, and he’s going to provide it himself. Your brain is going to work out the how. But first, I take it you’re up to speed on Nitro and Marx?”
“Yeah, and I’ve got some recommendations for you as to who to hire now that this has escalated. We need to get them in to see Nitro as soon as possible.” The expression on her face turned more determined than I’d ever seen it as she added, “And I hope you’ve got some ideas as to how to stop Marx from talking again, because this is some shit you guys are in. I’ll be fucked if my man is going down, so if you don’t have a plan, I’m calling Billy in to help me with it.”
Nitro had done well with her. She had exactly the right amount of grit needed to survive club life. Jerking my chin towards my office, I said, “Join me and Hyde. We’re going over all this now.” Involving an old lady in club business wasn’t something I’d ever done, but this situation wasn’t like any we’d ever been in, so I was running on my gut and right now it was telling me to use Tatum for all she was fucking worth.
Chapter Seventeen
Lily
“I’m just saying that maybe you want to consider a one-night stand or something. You’re not getting any younger, and at the rate you’re going, I’m concerned your vagina will forget what to do when you finally decide to let a man in again.”
I ignored my mother while continuing to lay the dining table. Acknowledging her, and continuing the conversation, would only encourage her to give me more unwanted advice.
“Lily, did you hear what I said?”
Placing the last set of cutlery down on the table, I looked up at her. “Yes, I heard you, but my vagina has special memory powers so you can take it off your long list of things to worry about.” Honestly, the list she had was longer than my list of shit I’d like to do to my ex-husband before he died. And that was saying something, because that list was long and I was adding to it daily.
She twirled out of the dining room into my kitchen, her long floral, boho skirt flaring. “Darling, I’m trying to be serious here. I’ve watched you navigate this single world for three years, which was fine because you were actually dating, but this celibate thing you’re experimenting with is disconcerting.”
My mother trying to have a serious conversation while twirling around the place was a daily occurrence in my life. I loved her dearly, but man, she was hard work sometimes. A patchwork of mixed and often conflicting traits, thoughts, feelings, likes and dislikes, Hannah Bennett was anything but dull. She often said the same about me, though, so I took great comfort in the knowledge I was just as much hard work for her.
I followed her into my tiny kitchen so I could grab the eggs and bacon I’d cooked for breakfast. “I’m thinking of extending my celibacy just to annoy the fuck out of you.”
Her lips flattened and she shook her head at me. “Six months is long enough.” She gathered the juice and coffee pot and took them into the dining room while continuing on. “I could set that dating profile I made for you to public. Mmm, maybe I will. You’ll have a list of suitors by the end of the day.”
I joined her and placed the food on the table while hitting her with a stern expression. “Don’t you dare. And who says suitors anymore?” And whose mother even kept track of their daughter’s sex life like this?
A smile lit her face. My mother was a beautiful woman, but when she smiled, she glowed. And she looked all of forty-five rather than the fifty-five she was. “I could call them beaus if you’d prefer.”
And she would, if only to exasperate me. She liked to use flowery language and big words and long freaking sentences because she knew it irritated me. I was all about getting to the point and getting there fast.
Turning to face the lounge room, I called out, “Kids! Breakfast is ready.”
Mum’s lips flattened again. “Really, Lily, must you always yell?”
It’s going to be a long day.
It was only 7:00 a.m. and I’d already dealt with a clogged shower drain, a cat that had clawed her way through the screen on my back door, and the cranky old man who lived next door and who always wanted to talk to me about my children at six in the morning.
I took a deep breath before saying, “I like to use the beautiful voice you gave me.”
She always liked it when I engaged in positive self-talk. I mean, it wasn’t that I didn’t believe it, but I wasn’t convinced today was gonna be a day for extreme positivity. Some days you just had to get through. They couldn’t all be days of profound thoughts and actions, could they? Today was possibly gonna be a survive-rather-than-thrive kinda day.
The sounds of my children running through the house filled my ears. I counted to three in my head, knowing it would only take my mother that long to say what she always said.
“Children, the food isn’t going anywhere. You don’t need to run through the house.”
&nb
sp; Yep, without fail. She’d said it to my sister and me while we were growing up, too. You had to wonder if she ever got sick of saying it.
The whirlwind that was my children filled the dining room, and I watched as the three of them scrambled for their breakfast before they’d hardly taken a seat. Even Robbie, which was odd. He was my eight-year-old nerd who loved to read more than eat, but this morning he was all about the food, too.
I frowned at him. “Are you okay, baby?”
Zara stopped filling her plate for a moment and looked up at me. “He’s on a mission to get back to his iPad.”
I didn’t have to ask him why. Robbie was currently obsessed with a YouTube science show, and they’d just released their latest episode.
Smiling, I said, “Ah, I get it.”
Mum sat down and threw in her two cents. “Whatever is on that iPad can wait. We’re enjoying our breakfast together this morning.”
God.
Help.
Me.
She was in a mood for all her old-school ways this morning, and I was far from being in the kind of mood to just let her be. Usually I simply ignored her, but then again, she didn’t usually start the day with a lecture on opening my vagina up for anyone who wanted in.
I sat next to my oldest daughter, Holly, who shot me a sympathetic look, and said, “Mum, we always have our breakfast together.”
“Yes, but you always just let the kids leave the table whenever they want. I don’t get to have breakfast with you very often, and for once, I’d just like everyone to take their time so we can catch up.”
I tried not to laugh. And I also made a mental note to say no next time she asked if she could sleep over. I mean, my mother lived five freaking minutes away from us, yet she was acting like she lived in another state and hardly ever saw us.
“You know my thoughts on this. Please don’t push me to defend them,” I said. She and I often argued over the way I raised my kids. I didn’t rule with an iron fist, and she would have preferred a little more of that style.
She finished filling her plate with food and stopped for a moment. “I’m not asking you to defend them. I’m simply asking for some time with my grandchildren. Is that too much to ask?”
If she was going to be so intent on being this dramatic, I was going to need a smoke.
Standing, I muttered, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Holly glanced at me, stifling a laugh. When Mum started talking again, she quickly interjected, “Grandma, how did your date go the other night?”
Smart kid.
She knew the best way to divert the conversation when her grandmother was involved.
As I headed outside to the back patio, Mum called out after me, “I know you’re going for a cigarette.”
Seriously. Could. Throttle. Her.
I made another mental note: find her a man fast. She needed something to focus her attention on rather than my sister and me, and all the problems we apparently had.
After I took my first drag, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted my sister.
Me: Your mother is slowly killing me.
Brynn: Not my mother today. She’s all yours. And BTW, I’m already dead. She killed me yesterday.
Me: How?
Brynn: She sent me a male prostitute.
I called her.
“What the fuck, Brynn? Are you kidding me? And why didn’t you call me straight away?”
“Not a word of a lie, big sister. Be prepared. I’m pretty sure your turn is coming since you haven’t had sex in six months. And I didn’t call you because I was dead, remember?” She sighed. “What planet do you think our mother is really from? What kind of mother sends her daughter a fucking prostitute?”
I took a long drag on my smoke. There wasn’t enough nicotine in the world to get me through this morning. “I don’t care if you’re dead, you still need to warn me about these things.” I frowned. “Wait, did you fuck him?”
She laughed. “I thought about it. Instead, I made him play scrabble with me. We took a selfie and I sent it to Mum. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”
I almost choked on my own laughter. “Maybe you and I are the weird ones, babe. I mean, who the hell turns down sex for scrabble?”
“Sex with a prostitute is not the kind of sex I want in my life, thank you very much. But, I do have to confess the dude was hot, and I mean, fucking hot. And on top of that, he’s a pro at scrabble. I asked him for a rematch.”
“Did he say yes?”
“Kind of.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I had to agree to do something with him first.”
“Jesus, stop dragging this out. Just tell me already. What?”
“He wants me to go fishing with him on the weekend.”
This story was getting weirder by the minute. “So let me get this straight—you just met him last night and now you’re suddenly hanging out with each other? I honestly think I’m existing in some alternate universe today.”
“No shit, Lil, we got on so well. Like, he’s so easy going and funny. I wish the guys I dated were this easy to get on with.”
“Is this fishing thing not a date?”
She was silent for a beat. “No. He told me he likes to do it with someone, but that none of his friends like it.”
“Well, dude must be hot. You hate fishing. Make sure you ask him how he selected his profession. I’ve always wondered why someone would have sex for cash. I mean, it’s hard enough to have good sex. I can’t imagine having shitty sex more than once a day.”
“That’s because Linc didn’t know what the hell he was doing and neither have any of the guys you’ve dated since him. Maybe Mum will hook you up, too, and maybe the guy’ll know what he’s doing.”
I finished my smoke as I said, “If she sends a guy my way, I’ll put him to good use in my kitchen while I go take a bath and a nap.”
“Hey, before you go, how did you go with Zara and the boy problem?”
“Ugh, did you have to remind me about that?” My fourteen-year-old was giving me grey hairs long before any woman should have them. Her obsession with boys was out of control. “I told her the only way she’d have a night-time date with that boy was with me or her father in attendance.”
“You know, just because you didn’t have these issues with Holly doesn’t mean you can bury your head in the sand over this. At some point, you’re going to have to let her out on a date.”
“I do. She can go out with him in the daytime, but no fucking way am I allowing her out at night with him.” It was beyond me how I’d managed to raise such different girls. Holly was all about study rather than boys, while I was fairly sure Zara didn’t even know what a textbook looked like.
“What’s the difference?”
“There’s a huge difference! Babies get made at night.”
“Oh, God, please tell me you aren’t that naïve. Babies can get made during the day, too.”
“Brynn, I’m not that naïve, but I know from what Linc and I did when we were kids that there’s more likelihood of sex at night. I do not want Zara having a baby at seventeen like I did.”
“Jesus, Lil, it doesn’t matter what you and Linc did. The fact is that if Zara wants to sleep with this boy, she won’t care if the sun is shining or not.”
I knew she was right. God did I know that. But for the life of me, I couldn’t get my brain to think any differently than it did, and it was screaming at me not to let my daughter out at night with a boy. I was so fucking terrified of my girls making the same mistakes I had. I’d managed to get Holly to sixteen without a pregnancy so far, and I’d do whatever it took to get Zara there, too.
“I’m hanging up on you now. And let me tell you that when you have a daughter, I’ll be the first one to say ‘I told you so.’ Girls plus boys plus no sun equals babies.”
She laughed. “Fine, be stubborn. I promise I’ll be the good aunt who is there to make sure your kid is okay when she refuses t
o talk to you because you’ve turned into your own mother.”
“I am not turning into my mother.” Good fucking God, I better not be.
“Lil,” she said softly, “you are. But I still love you. Just don’t start sending me male prostitutes. I’ll have to reassess the relationship if you start doing that shit.”
The door to the patio opened and my ex stuck his head out.
“Shit, Brynn, I’ve gotta go. Linc’s just turned up.” And I’m going to fucking kill him.
“I’ll get on my knees and start sending prayers up for Linc’s life.”
I ended the call and took a step toward the man who consumed way too much of my time these days. “Did you have a brain fart, Linc? Because I could have sworn I asked you to stop showing up at breakfast time without warning.”
His face pulled into the scowl I could trace with my eyes closed I’d known it for so long. “Why you gotta be such a smartass all the damn time, woman? And why can’t a man show up at the house where his children live whenever he has something for them?”
Oh, he wanted to get into it, did he?
I moved closer to him, fixing a shitty look of my own on my face. “One, don’t call me woman. I’m not your woman, and I haven’t been your woman for a good three years. Two, it’s a pity the father of my children only wants to show up to visit said children when it suits him. And three, my bank account seems to be minus a few numbers this week, so if you have something for the kids, you suck. They’d rather have their excursion fees paid and their swimming fees paid and their—”
He raised his hands in defence. “Okay, I get your point, Lily. You don’t need to go on. The money should be going in your account today. And for the record, you never used to be this bitchy.”