Chapter Ten
Zane
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Music rocked the clubhouse. Zane locked the office door behind him and settled behind the desk. Ignoring the computer, he opened the side drawer and extracted the file that he kept close at hand.
He'd poured over the same papers he'd collected on Kenna, River, and Tom Pruitt numerous times, always searching for some vital information he had previously missed. Something had to stand out, showing him where Kenna would go.
Kingsley couldn't stay away from the club for too long. He was needed here.
Two hours later, no closer to finding answers, he shoved the file back into the drawer and used the key to lock everything away.
Big John intercepted him as he left the office. "Been looking for you." Big John motioned him outside.
He stepped out into the night, lit a cigarette, and slapped Big John's arm, letting him know not to talk until Razz and Snake went inside.
The door shut. He turned to his vice president. "Go ahead."
"Sheriff Hampton walked into the bar tonight asking about you."
"How long ago?"
"Around nine, maybe nine-thirty." Big John handed him a business card. "He wants you to call him."
He pocketed the card. "Is everyone accounted for?"
It wouldn't be the first time a member from Gem Haven got caught by law enforcement and he had to bail them out of jail. Or worse, the Feds picked someone up.
"Yep."
He dipped his chin. "Then, I'll call him in the morning. Whatever he wants can wait."
"It could be about Prez, uh, your dad." Big John met his gaze. "You might want to give him a call now."
His dad could always take care of himself, but he was getting older. Life in prison required never letting your guard down, and sometimes, circumstances could keep his dad from defending himself.
"I'll call after I get home." He clasped Big John's hand. "Get some sleep. The rest of those assholes can party until morning."
He walked to his bike and rode home to make the call in private. Instead of going to the house, he went into the garage apartment. It seemed like days since he'd slept.
He sat on the couch, removed his pistol, removed his boots, and peeled his socks off his feet. Then, he stretched out.
It wasn't only his dad who he had to worry about. Kingsley was riding by himself. Anything could happen on the road, in a different territory, especially when his brother wore his patch.
He called the number on the card. After two rings, the call connected.
"Sheriff Hampton."
"It's Zane Stafford," he said.
"Thanks for calling. I wanted to talk to you in person, but I was told you were away from Gem Haven."
"I'm here now." He crossed his legs at the ankle and let his head fall back on the couch. "What do you need, Sheriff?"
He had no use for law enforcement. Gem Haven was unincorporated. While they were in the sheriff's jurisdiction in the county, they had made a point to stay away unless called.
"We've had a couple of wildfires over the last month, starting in Clearwater."
"I've heard." He closed his eyes, knowing the sheriff hadn't contacted him about his dad or brother. "As long as they don't spread north, they shouldn't come close to Gem Haven."
The sheriff cleared his throat. "This is more of a heads-up or a courtesy call. We believe someone started the fires."
"Arson?" He opened his eyes.
Another month and a carelessly thrown cigarette butt could destroy the mountain, including Gem Haven. Every single person living on the compound knew the dangers. They took responsibility for educating and practicing fire safety with the campers who used the campground each year.
"Because they were both started in national forestry areas, we wanted you to be extra vigilant with your campers. You can stress the importance of fire safety and report anything or anyone you believe is doing suspicious activities."
"Will do," he said.
"If anything arises, please call me directly."
He disconnected the call and set the phone beside him on the couch. It was just what they needed—an arsonist out there trying to make a name for himself.
Pushing off the couch, he walked into the bedroom and stripped down. He had an early morning planned. Last month, he bought a crate of unassembled weapons from Moroad Motorcycle Club. They were arriving tomorrow.
After talking with the sheriff, beefing up their club came at a good time. If there were someone out there trying to set the mountain on fire, he'd stop them.
He walked into the shower and let the warm water run down his body. The tension from earlier at the club remained behind, even after dropping River off at the house.
He rolled his head on his shoulders and stroked his cock. The pent-up needs left his body aching. River looked beautiful tonight. Eager and relaxed until that fucker put his hands on her.
When he noticed where she and Taylor were headed, he followed. She wasn't even old enough to get in the club, much less drink. She could've done it on the compound where she was protected and safe if she wanted to have a good time.
His cock hardened. It should've been him taking her out where she could experiment with the nightlife and have fun.
He tightened his hold and gave short strokes at the base until his balls throbbed. It should be River's mouth on him, sucking his cock to life.
His chest burned. He opened his mouth, breathing deeper. There were so many things he wanted to do with River. It wasn't fair to ask her to get involved with him—no matter how much she swore she loved him.
One day, the truth would come out, and he'd lose her. As sure as Ridge Stafford was his daddy, he'd lose the only woman he's ever loved.
The only thing River ever wanted was her family. Not any family. Not his family. Her family. She wanted her sister back.
Once she discovered he had the power to resurrect her dad from the grave, she'd never forgive him.
Then, as she watched the state kill her dad, it would destroy her all over again.
He couldn't do that to her.
He braced his free hand high on the tile in the shower and stroked his cock harder. The desire to wean himself of his need for River burned in him. He needed to purge her from his head.
The back of his thighs strained, and he pumped his dick into his fist faster and faster. Harder and harder.
His temples pulsed. He gazed down at the violence he put on himself as if he could beat out the need to run to River. Beat out the way she had him tied up in knots. Beat out the way he wanted to plunge his cock deep inside her body and leave the evidence of how much he loved her.
His climax gripped him by the balls. He thrust forward, pulling the skin, slapping the hardness, squeezing the cravings out of him.
And shot his cum on the floor of the shower.