Dead souls mc complete s.., p.66
Dead Souls MC (Complete Series #1-5), page 66
“Yep.”
“Then I won’t contact Makenna until we know what the fuck’s up.”
“Good. Because right now? I’ve got more questions than answers and I’m not ready to break away without knowing what the hell Mick is doing, what he’s saying, and how he’s being compensated.”
“Good thing I’m not on that damn pain medication anymore,” Brewer said.
“What’ll it be, boys?”
I looked up at the waitress who donned a less-than-appetizing expression.
“A large strawberry milkshake and a plate of fries,” I said.
“I’ll take a double bacon burger with cheese, ketchup, mustard, and pickles. With a side of onion rings,” Brewer said.
“Drink?” the waitress asked.
“Coffee,” he said.
“Actually, that sounds good. Strike the milkshake and get me a coffee, too.”
“No milkshake, just coffee. Want anything besides the fries?” she asked.
“Nope. Thanks.”
“Coming right up,” she said.
“We might as well have ordered the damn pot,” Brewer said. “Because something tells me we’re going to be up late.”
“We’ll stay up however long it fucking takes,” I said. “Diesel’s counting on us for answers and the stabilization of our damn family depends on it.”
“Fuck, what if Everly and Monroe are in trouble and they don’t even fucking know it?”
“That’s why we stay alert and awake until this mission’s done. We’ve got too many children and too many women involved at this point to half-ass this job. It took us long enough to get Diesel on-fucking-board with all this. We do this now and we go back with answers we all fucking deserve.”
“It hurts, Rock.”
I watched grief wash over my best friend’s face as he sunk back into the booth.
“He’s our brother. Our number’s guy. Our trusted clean-up crew. He’s our fucking backbone when we mess up our shit, and he’s doing this to us? Who can we trust?”
“You got me, and you got Diesel And you know damn well that Knox and Grave aren’t pulling shit like this. Mick’s always been a pussy. A brother, yes. But that man can’t shoot a damn gun or deal with blood to save his fucking life. He can clean it up, but he can’t draw it. He can stay in the background, but he can’t fight. He dwells in the corners. In the shadows. He stays behind-the-scenes to cover shit up. That’s how he got this under our fucking noses for so long. But no more. His game stops now.”
“Here you go, boys. Coffees, a double bacon burger with all that stuff, onion rings, and a plate of fries,” the waitress said.
“You might as well sit the pot of coffee down for us,” I said. “We’ll be needing it.”
“I’ll get you guys a carafe then,” she said.
I looked over at my location tracker and saw Mick still at his place. Probably whistling to himself and cooking some dumbass dinner, thinking he’s still got the wool over our damn eyes. But if he thought for one second, he was safe, he had another fucking thing coming.
We knew what he was doing. We knew what he was up to. And if Brewer and I could get solid proof of it, these actions would be the last of his life.
Because the second we showed Diesel, he would accept nothing less than his head on a fucking silver platter.
That was how Diesel worked. Diplomacy and calm conversations until you double-crossed him.
Then? He was the most ruthless of us all.
22
Piper
“Mommy, can we order pizza now?” Gavin asked.
“Give me five more minutes, sweet boy. Okay?” I asked. “Mommy’s gotta make one more phone call.”
“But you’ve been on the phone all night.”
“I know. Just one more time, okay?”
“Fine. But then pizza.”
“I promise,” I said.
I slipped off to the bathroom and called Rock for the fourth time. I had no idea what he was doing, but I was growing worried. He said he would meet us at seven o’clock, and it was now half past that. No calls. No text messages. No nothing. I held the phone to my ear while it rang and rang. I begged silently for him to pick up the phone. I didn’t care that he was late. I didn’t care if we had to wait another hour. Hell, I didn’t even care if he couldn't make it to dinner.
I simply wanted to know he was okay.
It finally shot me to his voicemail and I hung up. Panic filled my veins as tears rushed my eyes. I was petrified something had happened to him. Scared that he had gotten himself into trouble, or hurt, or arrested yet again.
Yet again.
I snickered at the thought.
“What would you like on your pizza, honey?”
“Yeah! Pepperoni and pineapple,” Gavin said.
“Pineapple doesn’t go on pizza,” I said teasingly.
“It goes on my pizza. Please, Mom?”
“You can have whatever pizza you want. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
I pulled up the application on my phone and ordered us some dinner. Then, I shot Rock another text message. I didn’t even need an explanation at that point. Just some sort of sign that the man was still breathing. Even with as torn as I had been about letting him into our lives again, it didn’t keep me from worrying about him. It didn’t keep me from wishing and hoping and silently praying with all my might that he was okay.
“Do you think if we call Rock he would come eat with us?” Gavin asked.
I was so glad I didn’t tell my son about inviting him to dinner. But the fact that he asked about Rock unprompted only served to heighten my worry. If something happened to him at this point, what would I tell my son? It was blatantly obvious how attached Gavin already was to the man. How he considered Rock his friend. What was I supposed to tell my son if he went off to jail again? If he got hurt?
God forbid, if he got killed?
The thought shot shivers down my spine.
“Why don’t we make it an evening where it’s just us?” I asked.
“Awww, that’s dumb,” Gavin said.
“Dumb!? I’m hurt,” I said. “Why is an evening with just Mom dumb?”
“Because you won’t be happy.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“When it’s only you and me, sometimes you just look at a wall or something.”
“Maybe I’m just thinking,” I said.
“About stuff that makes you frown. But when Rock’s here, you smile more. I like that.”
I blinked several times at my son as he leaned back into his chair.
“Like now. You’re frowning.”
“I’m thinking. This is my thinking face,” I said.
“Well it needs to be fixed. It’s broken.”
I threw my head back and laughed before I reached over for my son. I pulled him from his chair and gathered him into my arms, but his comments weighed heavily on my mind. Was I actually happier when Rock was around? So visibly happy my five-year old son picked up on it? I guess I enjoyed having him around. The help with Gavin this past weekend was really nice. And our lovely encounters were definitely something I wanted to keep experiencing.
But did that justify opening our lives up to the worry I was already facing? Because that would be our life. Rock would leave these walls to roll with his club and I would never know if he was coming home. Coming back to us. I didn’t know whether I’d get a call from Brewer saying Rock had been arrested or a call from Diesel saying Rock had been killed.
Could I really expose my son to something like that?
I sat there with my son in my arms until the doorbell rang. He scrambled from my lap and started pulling plates and things out of the dishwasher. I thanked the delivery boy and tipped him well, then the two of us sat down at the dinner table to eat. I opened up his small pizza and he dug in, pulling slices pouring with cheese onto his plate. I stood up and got us some drinks, him a glass of milk and me a beer. Normally, I didn’t drink in front of Gavin. But with my nerves as shot as they already were, I needed the relaxation help.
And against my better judgment, I pulled my phone from my pocket to see if Rock had contacted me at all.
My worry was beginning to overflow in ways I’d never experienced before. In some ways, I was upset with him. In other ways, I was so worried I could make myself sick. Gavin devoured his pizza, humming and chewing loudly as the small slices quickly disappeared. But I hardly got through my first piece. The beer went down easily. A little too easily for sitting in front of my child. I watched the clock on the microwave tick all the way to nine o’clock, and with each passing minute worry took the place of hunger.
“Wanna watch a movie?”
I pulled my eyes away from the microwave and looked down at my son.
“I’d love to,” I said with a smile. “What movie do you want to watch?”
“Die Hard.”
“Die Hard?” I asked. “You want to watch Die Hard.”
“It’s Rock’s favorite. He said I would like it.”
“Yeah. We’re not watching Die Hard.”
“Please?” Gavin asked.
“No. We can watch cartoons. Or a superhero movie. But we’re not watching Die Hard.”
“Rock said Bruce Willis is his superhero.”
I laughed and shook my head before I let out a sigh. In the expanse of maybe a week, Rock had completely infiltrated my home. My body. My son. There wasn’t a moment that passed by that Gavin wasn’t mentioning him in some way. And I knew that was my son’s way of expressing how much he missed having Rock around. I was most certainly not allowing my five-year old to watch Bruce Willis blow things up and fill our television screen with profanity, but it shouldn’t shock me that Rock was into the Die Hard series.
“Let’s go find something a little more kid-appropriate to watch. When you’re older, you and I will sit down and watch all the Die Hard movies.”
“And Rock, too?” Gavin asked.
“We’ll see, sweet boy,” I said. “We’ll see.”
I settled down with my son on the couch and held him close. His long legs sprawled out along the cushions and his arms wrapped around me. He laid his head in my lap and I mindlessly ran my fingers through his hair as cartoons rolled across the screen. But I wasn’t paying attention to them. Not even a little bit. My mind was focused on my pocket. On the phone pressing into my hip.
I was willing it to vibrate against me.
Cartoon after cartoon passed, and the longer it took for Rock to contact me, the more worried I became. Something was wrong. I knew something was wrong. This was a terrible idea. I should’ve told that man ‘no’ and left it at that. He could have never taken me to court for custody without exposing the insanity of his life. I would’ve won, hands down. And if he made my life a living nightmare, I could’ve moved easily. Taken another job somewhere else, given Gavin another year to hang out with me, then enrolled him into first grade after testing him out of kindergarten.
Why didn’t I do that?
Why didn’t I do any of that?
“Ouch, Mom.”
I looked down and saw my fingers had gotten tangled in Gavin’s hair.
“Sorry, sweetheart. We need to give you a bath tomorrow and wash your hair really well. It’s tangled like crazy,” I said.
“Can I take a bath tonight?”
“You know what? That sounds like a great plan. Come on. We’ll get you a bath, then come back down here and dry off with more cartoons.”
“All right!”
He scrambled off the couch and ran up the steps as I untangled his loose hair from around my fingertips. Then, without thinking, I pulled my phone out to check the time. Almost ten at night and not a peep had been heard. No text messages, no returned phone calls, and no voicemails. I jammed my phone back into my pocket and tried to abate my worries. But the sound of running water soon ripped me from my worried state.
“Don’t make it too-”
“Ouch!” Gavin exclaimed.
“Hot,” I said flatly.
I really needed to color-coat those knobs before my son’s hands became a massive mound of scar tissue.
“Mom! I burned myself!”
“Coming with the first aid kit, sweet boy! Sit on the toilet and wait for me.”
Then I went to go dig around in the kitchen for the kit so I could patch up my son, all the while hoping and praying Rock didn’t need any patching up of his own.
23
Rock
With every call and text message that rolled in from Piper, it made me sicker to my stomach. But I knew I couldn't take her calls. I knew I couldn't answer her. Because the second I did, if someone was tracking us? Her and Gavin would be in a hell of a lot of trouble. The more I made it look like she was a desperate one-night stand, the better. Brewer and I sat at the booth in the back of the diner and polished off the massive jug of coffee as my eyes started at the blinking screen.
Then, the tracker location began to move.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
“About damn time. The hell was he doing?” Brewer asked.
“Dinner, most likely. But he’s on the move now.”
“I’ll throw down some money.”
“Gotta hit the bathroom, then I’ll be ready,” I said.
I pulled up Piper’s text messages the second I shut the door. And my stomach fell. Reading all of the ones she sent me made me want to be there with her and Gavin. My eyes scanned the texts as I did what I needed to do, my eyes bouncing between the small tracker screen in the corner and the flood of messages that kept coming through.
About to order pizza! What kind would you like?
Rock? Are you there? Is everything okay?
Will you be late? That’s fine if you are, just let me know.
You know you don’t have to have pizza with us, right? That’s fine. You aren’t obligated to see us every night.
You’re worrying me now. Answer my damn text messages.
Rock, I’m not going to ask you again. Where the fuck are you? Gavin keeps asking about you, and I don’t know what the hell to tell him. Do you know what the hell to tell him?
I knew she was pissed, but there was nothing I could do about it. I shook myself off and stuffed myself back into my pants, then pulled the tracker screen back up. Mick had blown four miles ahead of us, which meant Brewer and I had to get a move on it. I strode out of the bathroom and jogged to my bike, then struck it up so Brewer and I could get onto the road again.
It was dark now, which would make our journey a hell of a lot more difficult.
“Come on,” I said. “He’s fucking four miles ahead of us.”
“I hope you know some shortcuts, because if we lose him Diesel’s gonna lose his shit,” Brewer said.
“I do. Just make sure you can keep up.”
The two of us blazed through town, taking back roads to try and catch up to Mick. I had no idea where the fuck the guy was headed. I didn’t recognize any of the back streets he was taking. But with speeding down back roads and taking a few shortcuts through people’s backyards, we were able to get ourselves within a couple miles of him.
Then, he turned onto a road both of us recognized.
“Holy fucking shit,” Brewer said.
“God damn it,” I said.
Mick had just turned onto the road that led straight to The Black Saddles lodge.
Neither of us had any idea as to the condition of that lodge. For all we knew, it was still torn to shreds from the gunfight to save Everly’s ass when she had been taken. But if they were still regularly meeting there, then it meant they’d repaired it pretty quickly. I pulled over onto the side of the road before Brewer shot me a look, then he pulled over beside me and shut his bike down.
“What gives?” he asked.
“Look,” I said.
I tilted my phone to him to show Brewer where Mick had stopped, but before he could get a good look at it, another call came screaming in from Piper.
And before I had a second to debate what I was doing, I ignored her phone call and shot her to voicemail. It was the only thing I could think to do in the heat of the moment to let her know I was still alive without putting her and Gavin into hot water.
But the look Brewer gave me made me shake my head.
“She’s going to kill you for that.”
“Yeah, well. Better than putting the two of them in trouble if there’s trouble to be had,” I said.
“She’s still going to kill you,” he said.
“Trust me. I know.”
Brewer studied the screen on my phone before his face turned red. Even without knowledge of this part of the backwoods of Redding, he knew exactly where that dot was blinking. And it was obvious Mick had stopped there. Brewer’s fists clenched so hard his hands began to shake before he rolled his shoulders to rid himself of the ache in his muscles.
“You good?” I asked.
“Still a little sore, but I’m working through it.”
“We can sit here for a few minutes before we walk ourselves up to the lodge. We only have to be within seven hundred feet in order to listen in on what’s going on. But if we strike up our bikes and ride up, they’re gonna fucking hear us.”
“Don’t worry. I know all that shit. I don’t need a few minutes, though. What I need is to know what the fuck this asshole’s telling that club.”
“I know. And we’ll figure it out. But there’s no use in running you so ragged you can’t get the fuck out of dodge when we need to get out,” I said. “So, take a few minutes to breathe, then we walk our bikes. Got it?”
“Fine.”
I mounted my phone back onto my bike and stared at the screen. But I wasn’t looking at the dot. I was looking for another text message from Piper. Another phone call. Anything to clue me into the mood that ignored call might’ve put her in. But it was as if she had fallen off the face of the planet. I raked my hands through my hair and drew in a deep breath, trying to center my mind as best as I could. I needed to focus. Once Brewer caught his breath and was good, I needed my mind to focus on the task at hand. On the mission in front of us.
