Baja (Fallen Ravens MC #3)

18. Baja

18

BAJA

Shortly after wearing my woman out, I quietly slip from the bed, put on clean clothes, and leave Alice to sleep. I shrug on my cut and look back at her one more time. She’s lying on her side with Ozzy snuggled in the bend behind her knees. After this morning’s disruption and Belladonna’s being trashed, she deserves all the rest she can get.

I step out of the room, leaving the door cracked should Ozzy want to wander out into the rest of the clubhouse and head for the kitchen in search of much-needed caffeine. I push open the kitchen door, the old hinges groaning. Juneau and Harlem sit at the table, looking like they’ve been through the wringer. Juneau is leaning back in his chair, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and Harlem is staring at a mug of hot, steaming coffee in front of him. Neither look at me right away.

My boots thud on the wooden floor as I grab a mug and fill it at the counter. The smell of coffee hits me hard as I take my first sip. It has enough kick to sharpen my senses. I sit at the table, my thoughts churning in my head about the break-in. The smashed glass, trashed shelves, and the look on Alice and Sukie’s faces when they saw the damage.

Juneau breaks the silence with a heavy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “Appears to be a random break-in, probably some punk ass kids.”

“Bullshit,” Harlem mutters. “It’s never random. Not in our world.”

I nod, taking a sip of coffee. “You got to be smarter than some punk kids to think about destroying the security system and leave no evidence of your identity.”

Before either can respond, the kitchen door swings open, and Ophelia walks in. She’s carrying a bag of groceries, smiling at us as she walks by. She sits the bag on the counter, empties the contents, and rummages through the cabinets and fridge. “Morning, boys,” she says without looking at us. “I’d say the coffee isn’t strong enough for the week we’ve had.”

Juneau chuckles. “That’s the fuckin’ truth.”

Ophelia pulls out pots and pans. “Seriously, how is everyone holding up?” She pauses, looking over her shoulder at me. “You doing okay, Baja? I know a lot has been handed to you.”

“You know me.” I lean back, stretching out the knots in my back. “It’s everyone else I’m concerned with.”

“Well, someone needs to worry about you too,” Ophelia states, and I let it resonate with me for a second, grateful for her concern. Truth is, I’m conflicted with the shit going on, but there are some things you have to roll with and figure out along the way, and this happens to be one of them. “How’s Alice holding up? I’m sure she and Sukie are devastated over all this.”

“Alice is more concerned with Sukie than herself,” I tell her.

Ophelia nods. “As a mother always is.” She peeks at Harlem. “What about Sukie?”

“Dealin’ with it the only way she knows how.” His voice is rough.

Ophelia hums while cracking eggs into a bowl. “Those poor ladies have been through more than most could handle. But one thing about them is they keep getting back up again.” She pauses. “The same goes for Lily. She’s pregnant and scared out of her mind, then her daddy takes off to handle the mess on his own.” She shakes her head. “Breaks my heart. But I tell you what…” she turns and points her spatula at me, then Juneau and Harlem, “… it’s damn good to see women like them, find men who know their worth and are loyal and dedicated to taking care of them. Love is a hard thing to come by in life.”

Her words hit like a gut punch.

I glance at Juneau and Harlem.

Before the conversation can get heavier, boots slapping against the floor echo from the hallway. Mystic strides in, his little girl Lorelei perched on his hip, and she’s clutching, with her dad’s help, Ozzy, looking unbothered by being hauled around like a sack of potatoes.

“Ozzy is hungry,” Lorelei announces, and Mystic lowers his daughter and cat to the floor.

I watch Lorelei lift Ozzy and, with effort, tote him across the kitchen. Seeing a massive, laid-back cat in her tiny arms makes everyone laugh, even Harlem. Ophelia helps by opening a can of cat food, and Lorelei sits it on the floor for the Oz man to devour. And just like that, the tension in the room eases a bit.

It’s only a short time before more members filter into the kitchen, the noise level rising with each new arrival. The smell of frying bacon and pancakes quickly fills the kitchen, mingling with the strong coffee aroma and the hum of conversation. I lean back in my chair. This is what it’s supposed to be like, and most days, it is. Life may be messy and complicated right now, but this is why we trudge through the muck.

Then my woman strides in, looking like a storm just passed through—hair all messed up, rocking one of my shirts like a badge of honor. Her eyes lock onto me, and she makes a beeline in my direction. When she’s at my side, I pull her in tight, my arm wrapping around her thighs. “You good?” I murmur, my voice low and rough.

She gives me a sleepy grin that could light up the night. “Better now.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, give me those lips.” I slam my mouth to hers.

The moment doesn’t last long before the kitchen door swings open again, and Laredo pops his head in. “We’ve got company,” he announces, which has everyone on their feet.

I leave the kitchen and head toward the main room, where my parents are standing. My kid sister Lucy’s face lights up, and she bolts across the room.

“Nash,” she squeals, jumping up and wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Hey, squirt,” I say, laughing at her excitement. She’s grown since the last time I saw her.

My parents hang back a second, then Dad rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry to show up like this. We stopped by your place, but you weren’t there. Tried calling too, but…”

“Shit,” I mutter. “Left my phone in the room,” I admit. “Glad you’re here.” My words are genuine despite the upheaval surrounding the club right now. I cross the room and wrap my mom in a tight embrace. “Hey, Ma.”

“It’s good to see you, sweetheart.” She hugs me back.

I then turn to my dad. “How’s it goin’, old man?” I clasp his shoulder.

“Good, but I’ll be doin’ even better if you get me some of that bacon I’m smelling.” He pulls me in for a hug.

“You’re not supposed to have bacon, Daddy,” my sister quips.

“What the doctor doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” my dad fires back.

“Honey…” Mom shoots him a look, and I chuckle.

“You women better get off my back. This one time won’t kill me,” Dad states, and Mom sighs.

The room quickly fills, and I notice Alice slowly approaching us. By the way she’s fidgeting with the hem of the shirt, I can tell she is a ball of nerves. “Mom, Dad. This is my woman, Alice.”

Alice holds out her hand, smiling. “Mr. and Mrs. Steele, it’s nice to meet you.”

Like I knew it would be, my mom’s reaction is warmth.

Mom pulls Alice in for a hug. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” Mom pulls back. “Call us Caroline and Jenson.”

“It’s about damn time, son.” My dad smirks. “We were beginning to think you’d stay a bachelor forever.” His comment earns laughs from others in the room as my brothers push the tables together.

“Caroline… Jenson,” Ophelia calls out. “Join us for breakfast.”

We gather around the table, and the mood stays light as breakfast is served and plates are passed around. For a little while, things feel normal.

Then, the one person missing appears.

Lily.

The energy in the room changes, and it falls silent. All eyes turn to Lily as she sheepishly moves toward the table.

I brace myself for what’s coming. There’s no avoiding it. It’s time to tear off the Band-Aid.

“Mom, Dad.” I look across the table at them. “This is Lily.”

My mom smiles while Dad sneaks a piece of bacon, shoveling it into his mouth. “It’s nice to meet you, Lily. We are Caroline and Jenson, Nash’s parents.”

“And I’m Lucy, also known as our mom and dad’s favorite kid,” my sister boasts with a playful grin and a twinkle in her eyes.

Lily’s eyes bounce between my parents, looking unsure. “Hi,” she says, barely above a whisper.

I clear my throat. “She’s Uncle Jax’s daughter.”

The shock on their faces is immediate, but my mom recovers quickly. She stands, making her way to Lily. Mom’s eyes are full of unshed tears as she looks at Lily. “Your dad is my brother.”

Lily rubs her belly. “He’s told me about you.”

Mom opens her arms. “Welcome to the family.” Her voice is thick with emotion. Lily’s lips tremble. Then she walks into my mom’s embrace. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Mom says.

I sit, taking in the scene as my family wraps their arms around Lily, a surge of gratitude crashing over me. Next to me, Alice grips my hand under the table, our fingers locked together like we’re ready to face the world. My life isn’t flawless, but it’s real. And that’s close enough to perfect for me.

The rest of breakfast is quieter as the conversations shift to lighter topics like the charity event and my sister’s upcoming school dance.

“Tell your brother about the boy you’re going with.” The tone of Dad’s voice hints at his protective nature and piques my interest.

“What boy?” I glare at my sister.

In typical teenage fashion, Lucy rolls her eyes. “He’s not a boy. I mean, he is, but he’s just Cole. Besides, Daddy forgot to mention that a group of us are all going together. As friends.” She cuts her eyes to Dad, but I can see he’s unconvinced.

“I’ll make sure I’m cleaning my shotgun when your friend picks you up,” Dad states.

Lucy sighs. “Daddy. Cole and I have been friends since we were in diapers. I don’t have any other feelings for him.”

“And you’d best remember you wearing diapers not that long ago,” my dad shoots back.

What the fuck happened to Lucy playing with Barbie dolls and My Little Pony? Hearing my kid sister talk about boys and feelings has me adding my two cents. “He’d better stay just a friend.” I give my sister a look. “I hear about the little shit catchin’ feelings, and you’ll have more than Dad to worry about.” In return, my words get a fiery glare, and I feel my work here is done. I shoot her a little brotherly smirk, satisfied with myself.

“You both knew she was bound to grow up eventually, and boys are naturally part of the process,” Mom adds, coming to my sister’s defense.

“Yeah, well, so is standing on my front porch daring any little snot-nosed punk sniffing around to give me any reason to shoot them.” Dad plucks a piece of bacon off the platter, turns to my mom, and looks her in the eyes, eating it.

Alice giggles beside me, then whispers, “I see where you get it from.”

“Get what, babe?”

Alice locks her eyes on mine. “Your protectiveness.”

“Like father, like son, baby.” I kiss her.

By the time breakfast wraps up, it’s late in the morning, and there’s more shit to do than time in the day. Alice joins the women, helping them clear the tables while I step outside for fresh air.

“Mind if we join you?” Dad’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn around to see him and Mom. He’s got that serious Dad look on his face.

“What?”

They exchange glances, and my mom says, “We need to talk.”

“Okay?”

“We’ve wanted to talk to you about this for a long time, but we have never found the right time. Not that this is the right time.” Mom looks away, wringing her hands nervously, and I worry about what the hell they are going to spring on me. “If I’m being honest, I’ve been terrified for you to know the truth.”

“One of you dyin’?” I blurt out because it is the only thought floating in my head.

Mom looks at me. “No one is dying, son.”

I let out a deep breath. “Just lay it on me, Ma. Sometimes, you gotta say it like it is…” I raise a brow. “No sugarcoating, good or bad. Truth’s the only thing that matters.”

“Uncle Jax is your father.”

I stare at her, trying to make sense of what she said. “Excuse me?”

She drops a bombshell I never saw coming, her words hitting me like a freight train.

I glance at my dad, the man who raised me, and he looks pained.

“Not long after you were born, my brother showed up with you sleeping in a car seat. He told us your birth mom abandoned you after stating he was the father.”

“How the fuck does he even know if some random piece of ass told him the truth.” My words have a sharp edge to them.

“He took a paternity test,” Dad adds. “He didn’t feel he could do right by you, Nash. One look at you, and I couldn’t say no.”

Everything around me tilts.

My chest tightens like an anaconda coiling around my body.

I don’t know what to say.

Anger, confusion, and betrayal all churn inside me, but I can’t let it out.

I turn to face my parents.

Mom’s eyes are filled with tears.

Beside her, my dad holds her at his side.

“I gotta go.” I brush past them, heading for my bike and taking off. The engine roar does nothing to drown out the noise inside my head. I hit the open road, and the wind cuts through me as I pick up speed, trying to outrun my problems, my mind repeating the exact words repeatedly.

Uncle Jax is your father.

I ride until the anger fades.

A hollow ache replaces it.

Nothing changes my mind that the people who raised me are my real parents.

But knowing Jax gave me up? Then, years later, he decided to be what he couldn’t for me— a father to Lily. It burns. A lot more than I’d like.

When I return to the clubhouse, the sun sits low on the horizon, and my head is no clearer than when I left.

I pull up and park, then get off my bike and search for the one person who grounds me. As I reach the door, Alice bursts out, her gaze locking onto mine. She doesn’t say a word. Instead, she throws herself at me, burying her face in my chest, arms clutching my body like a lifeline.

I hold her tight, every ounce of my being pouring into that embrace as if my survival depends on it.

“What’s going on, Nash?” Alice asks, her voice gentle yet filled with concern. I keep quiet, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me like a heavy weight, a fog clouding my mind. I sense her patience, her understanding that I need time to sort through whatever’s troubling me.

“I’m here when you’re ready to talk,” she offers softly, giving me the space I need without pushing for answers.

The strip club is alive with bass-thumping music. The lights are low, and shadows dance along the walls as the girls work the poles. Salem and I sit at our usual table, watching the crowd. I volunteered to fill in tonight for Laredo because sitting around the clubhouse was giving me too much anxiety. My folks want to talk, but I’m not ready to confront them. So, instead, I’m going to sit here and drown my trouble with another shot of whiskey.

“Take it easy, brother. Can’t have you getting shit-faced,” Salem says.

“It’s my last one.” I hold up one more shot and throw it back, enjoying the burn as it slides down my throat. Salem studies me, and the weight of his gaze bothers me. “Spit it,” I mutter.

“They’re still your folks, ya know.” His tone is neutral.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I keep my eyes on the stage.

“I happened to be outside and overheard their confession,” he tells me.

I reach into my pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “Then you’ll understand I don’t want to discuss it.” I strike the lighter.

A group of rowdy men a few tables away catches both of our attention when they shout at one of our girls. “I ain’t here to only see your tits, bitch.” He tosses dollars onto the stage. “Let me see that cunt.” Another one of the men gets handsy, grabbing the dancer’s ankle as she moves past. She jerks her leg away, kicking the asshole’s face in the process, and the prick stands. “You fucking bitch,” he shouts, slurring his words.

That’s my cue. I stand, rolling my shoulders, and approach the table, gripping his shoulder. “Sit the fuck down,” I growl, shoving him down into his seat.

The man sneers at me. “Fuck off.” He goes to remove my hand, and it’s all it takes to set me off. I fist his hair and slam his face into the table’s surface.

Shit escalates quickly.

One of his buddies responds, pulling a knife and slashing it toward me.

I sidestep, grabbing his wrist and twisting until the blade clatters to the floor. He swings at me, but I block the blow. Driving my fist into his gut, he doubles over. But I’m not done. Not by a long shot. I have a lot of pent-up anger, and I release it on the son of a bitch. I deliver another blow, this time to the side of his head, and he falls to his knees. Not letting up, I drive the toe of my boot into his ribcage.

The third man at the table steps up, taking a swing at me with a chair, clipping my shoulder. The chair crashes onto the nearby table, and the glass shatters.

Salem comes up behind the motherfucker, grips his shoulder, spins him around, and slams a fist in his face.

I haul the knife-wielding asshole to his feet and drag him toward the exit. Salem isn’t far behind, along with our bouncer, Theo, with his two friends. We toss their drunk asses out into the parking lot.

“Show your faces here again, and I’ll put a bullet in ya.”

We watch them stagger to their vehicle before heading back inside.

“You feelin’ any better?” Salem’s voice cuts through the tension.

I work my sore knuckles, letting the pain ground me. “Yeah, a bit.”

It’s late when we finally shut the place down. Everyone has gone home except Salem, who’s in his office, and me. I step outside, light a cigarette, head for my bike, and wait on Salem. The night air is a little cool and a little too quiet. My thoughts take advantage of the stillness, and I immerse myself in them, rehashing this morning’s events.

Suddenly, a sharp pain explodes at the back of my head, and I stumble forward, my vision blurring. “Son of a bitch,” I hiss.

“Not so tough now, are you motherfucker?” The voice comes from behind me, and I spin around, coming face to face with three of the bastards we tossed out of the club earlier in the night. They quickly surround me, fists and boots flying.

I fight back, adrenaline pushing me through the throbbing pain radiating at the back of my head. I take one of the motherfuckers down with an elbow to the face, then manage to knock another one down with a solid heavy boot to his knee.

I square off with the last man standing.

A gunshot cracks through the air, and I watch the two other men scramble to their feet and bolt into the darkness. I don’t need to look behind me to know who stands there.

“You assholes have no idea who you’re dealing with.” The lone man sneers. The motherfucker is stupid enough to pull a gun from beneath his shirt. Before his arm is fully raised, another gunshot rings out, and a bullet rips through his chest. His eyes widen with shock before he drops his weapon as his shirt turns crimson. The man falls to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

Salem steps to my side, and we look down at the damn idiot who’s dead.

“Now what?” I ask, my head throbbing.

“I’ll get Harlem out here to give us a hand.” Salem pulls his phone out, but before he can make a call, the wail of sirens cuts through the silence. He sighs. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I don’t need this shit.”

“How the fuck did the law catch wind of this?” I let out a heavy breath.

“I’ll give you two fuckin’ guesses,” Salem says with a sharp tone, and my thoughts go straight to the two cowardly bastards who ran.

It’s not long before Sheriff Huxley pulls up in his patrol vehicle, with another car not far behind. He steps out, his boots crunching on the gravel. “I should have known the moment I heard dispatch give this location that nothing good would await me.” He glances at the dead man before turning his attention to us again. “Another fucking body? Either one of you care to explain?”

“Self-defense,” I tell him, pointing to the gun close to the man’s body.

The sheriff sighs, shaking his head. “Well, the dead man can’t speak for himself, so start talking ’cause neither of you are leaving until I have answers.”

After giving him our account of events and security footage, Huxley eventually lets us go.

We roll up to the clubhouse as the sun rises, and I head inside straight to my room. Ozzy strolls toward me, letting out a soft meow as I head down the hallway to check on Alice. I find her sitting in bed, her back against the headboard.

“Hey.” She eyes me wearily, taking in my disheveled state. “What happened?” Her voice is filled with concern.

“Assholes jumped me.” I move across the room, stripping my clothes, the scent of sweat and dirt clinging to them. I go to the bathroom and start the shower, rubbing the back of my head, feeling the evidence of tonight’s cowardly attack. I step into the shower, the hot water soothing my aching muscles and washing away the grime. I don’t linger. Once clean, I get out, dry off, and approach my woman, who pulls back the covers. Exhaustion pulls at me as I collapse into the bed, laying my head in Alice’s lap.

She caresses my hair, and I find it soothing. “I’m here to listen.”

I shut my eyes, sinking into the room’s silence before I spill the truth. “I found out today that my mom and dad aren’t my biological parents.” I wait for Alice’s reaction, but she remains silent. So, I keep going, “Uncle Jax is my real father.”

“Lily’s your sister.” Alice pieces it together, her voice steady.

“Yeah, babe. Everything I thought I knew is a damn lie,” I spit out the words with venom.

“But that doesn’t change who you are, Nash.”

Her words don’t penetrate beyond the surface because I won’t allow them to. I should share more with her, but right now, I prefer to keep those feelings locked away.

Accepting my silence, Alice slides down in the bed, shifting closer to me, seeking comfort. I pull her back into my chest, wanting to offer her the warmth and safety she deserves.

The room is quiet, filled with the soft sound of our breathing. My eyelids grow heavy as time passes, and I surrender to slumber.

After a few hours of restless sleep, I finally muster the strength to drag myself out of bed when Mystic pounds on the door, letting me know Salem is calling for us. I glance over at the other side of the bed, which is empty, and see that Alice is nowhere in the room. I throw my clothes on, shove my feet into my boots, strap my weapon to my hip, shrug on my cut, and stroll out of the room.

Problems are exploding left and right, and I don’t fucking like it. Uncle Jax and Lily brought in a potential threat from another MC, then Sukie and Alice had their damn store wrecked. We’ve been drowning in questions for over two weeks with barely any answers, and it’s got everyone on edge.

Ever since the break-in at Belladonna’s, every member of our crew and our families have been holed up in the Fallen Ravens’ sanctuary like it’s the apocalypse. We’re packed in tight like sardines, but it’s the only way to keep everyone safe while we dig for the truth. Love it or leave it, we have to brace for potential retaliation from the Phantom Riders.

We need to figure out if the mess at Belladonna’s was a one-off or if it’s blowback due to any club business. We’ve got the incident from this morning hanging over us, too, and you can bet Salem PD will be breathing down our necks for a bit. I’m guessing Prez is calling church before heading out for the day to check and see if Laredo has turned up anything good yet.

Luckily, no one breathes a word of what they may or may not know about my personal affairs when I enter the room. Like it or not, life doesn’t stop with the upheaval the club finds itself in or the personal bullshit I’m dealing with. We have businesses to run and bills to fucking pay. Not to mention, the children’s hospital charity event date is closing in on us, and I’ll be damned if we let this situation affect the outcome.

Harlem is the last to walk into the room. He closes the door and sits at the table.

Salem tilts his head back, blowing smoke over his head. “We got any fuckin’ leads?” His gaze sweeps over us, his expression dark like a storm ready to break.

“Not much.” Laredo opens a black folder in front of him, and passes a stack of papers to Salem, who flips through them as my brother continues, “Those are the rap sheets of the dozen Phantom Riders members. They got their hands in numerous dirty activities such as dealin’ drugs and trafficking.”

Salem passes off the papers, and the stack makes its way around the table. Once I have them in my hands, I zero in on the man they call Havoc, their president and Lily’s abuser. Anger simmers in the pit of my gut as I read through the information. Uncle Jax wasn’t lying about their reputation—the Phantom Riders are running guns, dealing meth, and are notorious for their involvement in trafficking women, and at their core sits Havoc.

“Our sources say they all got blood on their hands. Those that cross them either come up missin’ or are found dead. From what I’m hearin’, these bastards don’t leave loose ends,” Laredo supplies.

“Still no word on Jax’s whereabouts?” Salem asks Laredo.

“Nothin’,” Laredo replies.

“My uncle is a master at vanishing and goin’ off-grid. You won’t lay eyes on him unless he wants to be found. Dead or alive.” I let the last words slip out, tension coiling in my muscles like a spring. But we all know—we can’t ignore the chilling truth.

“Man’s got a damn death wish, that’s for sure,” Mystic says.

Harlem rakes a hand through his hair. “What about my old lady’s hustle? Got any word on that?” His voice sounds like sandpaper scraping steel.

“Cops still don’t have shit, and the streets ain’t spillin’ nothin’ we wanna hear,” Laredo replies, his tone flat and hard. “Whoever hit Belladonna’s isn’t leavin’ tracks,” he adds.

I shake my head. “I don’t know about you, but it feels like someone is pokin’ the bear. That someone is testin’ us. I know Sukie and Alice have had their fair share of troubles from people in this town, but I highly doubt anyone here is foolish enough to hit them while under our protection. Whoever did it is too smart for any local junkies and too clean for it to be a random hit,” I admit, and the tension in the room thickens.

Salem leans back in his seat, his fingers drumming against the table’s surface. “You got a point.”

Harlem slams his fist on the table, rattling the half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting in the center, releasing his anger. “Whoever is responsible is playin’ a dangerous game.”

Salem, as always, remains steady, but I know his mind is sharp, working all the angles.

“What about the charity event comin’ up?” I lean forward, flattening my hands on the table. “Not ideal, considerin’ the shit we got goin’ on, but we got kids countin’ on us.”

Salem lets out a heavy sigh. “We continue to wake up and do business as usual. The event goes on as planned. But we don’t let our guard down. We stay sharp and double down on security for the event. No one gets in or out without one of us knowin’.”

“I’ll call in a few favors and have extra sets of eyes posted near the hospital while keeping a low profile,” Laredo offers.

“Everyone stays on lockdown. Women and kids don’t step foot outside without one of us shadowing them,” Salem reiterates and shoots me a stern look. “That means your folks too.” His chair groans as he rises. “You got your orders.”