Chapter Twenty
Zane
––––––––
"You have a fuckin' Harley. Catch her." Zane walked into the clubhouse with his cell plastered to his ear.
"I've had, at max, two hours of sleep in the last three days. She stops just long enough to take a nap."
"You can't break into her hotel?"
"She sleeps in her car—" Kingsley's voice broke out with the bad cell reception. "If I approach, she leaves, so I use that time to shut my eyes, or there's no way I'll make it."
"Then stop her from going."
"She's running back toward Idaho. It'll be a lot easier if I let her drive than dealing with getting my bike back home. I'll stop her once she rides over the state line."
Zane stopped in the middle of the clubhouse. "Does she know you're following?"
"Yeah."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"I have a feeling, I'm the one that's making her run."
Zane exhaled harshly. "Do what you can to get back home...with Kenna."
"Yeah, I will." Kingsley yawned. "Before you hang up, how's Dad?"
"He'll live."
He disconnected the call. While he'd told Kingsley about their dad almost getting killed in prison during his last phone conversation, he hadn't informed him that he'd put a request into visit Tom Pruitt. Whether River and Kenna's dad allowed him to come in and talk with him was still up in the air.
There was nothing he could do until he heard from the prison.
"Hey, Prez?" Big John approached him, turning his baseball hat backward. "We had visitors today."
"Do I even want to know?"
"Probably not, but seeing how they were on official business, I think I better tell you." Big John reached inside his vest and extracted a piece of paper. "Sheriff Hampton wanted me to pass this on to you. He's interested to know if these two men are familiar to you?"
He unfolded the paper and held it closer, squinting. It was a piece of copy paper with two scanned driver's licenses—in black and white, no less.
Angling the paper, he studied the pictures. The names weren't familiar to him, but the pictures were. Rachet and Palmer.
"You know them?" asked Big John.
He rolled the paper up and slipped it into his pocket. "What's the sheriff want with them?"
"They're suspects in the arson happening around here."
He fisted his hand and absorbed that bit of information. So the fires were aimed at Gem Haven. A scare tactic, maybe. A threat, definitely.
"We need to up security. Have Guy get at least four members who are willing to go up on the ridge and camp out. I want eyes looking for any sign of fires around the clock." He took out his phone. "All of Gem Haven gets locked down at ten o'clock. Tell the members no visitors are allowed at the clubhouse or the cabins. For now, we'll let those in the campground visit the bar, but be prepared to have that stopped immediately at any sign of trouble."
Big John whistled. "You think the arson is a personal message to Gem Haven."
"The sheriff's suspects are two Valdone Motorcycle Club members." He met Big John's gaze. "They want Gem Haven."
"I remember your dad having problems with them years ago. There were a few times, we weren't sure if he'd hold on to the compound."
The last time Valdone made a play for Gem Haven, Zane was ten years old. Most of what he'd learned about that time, he'd done so by going through his dad's records, which he kept in the office.
"He wouldn't let Valdone steal from him." He widened his stance. "If they keep setting fires, I'll go after them. I'm not going to sit back and watch them burn the whole mountain down."
Snake approached him carrying a box. "Where do you want them?"
He'd purchased another load of rifles for the club. They needed to be assembled in the next several days.
"For now, put them in Cabin D." He looked toward the door. "How many boxes are there?"
"Twelve in all." Snake shifted the weight of the box. "Razz and Conner are out there with the hand truck."
He addressed Big John. "Let's get some of the members on the manufacturing. The sooner they're done, the better."
Big John walked off to oversee the production. Zane strode outside, looked through one box, and nodded his approval to Razz. Getting more weapons was the right decision.
A loud whoop drew his attention away from the delivery. He gazed down the hill toward the bar. Snake jogged away from his bike toward the front of the building. He squinted, recognizing the backpack before realizing River was the woman Snake was talking to.
He checked his watch. Time flew. He hadn't realized River was off work yet.
Hopping on his motorcycle, he rode to the bar and pulled between the two. Close enough, Snake backed up so as not to get hit by the Harley.
"Get on." He flipped the footpeg.
She waved to Snake and stepped up, throwing her leg over the seat as she slid behind him. He put the other peg down and ensured her foot was on it.
Without acknowledging Snake, he looped around and took the private road that would lead him to the entrance of the Gem Haven compound. Once through the gate, he opened the throttle.
River hugged his back. Confident that she was secure on his motorcycle after having her ride with him for the last several years, he whisked her away from the land he called home, the people he called family.
River belonged to him, and he wasn't sharing.
He wanted the other guys to stay away.
He wanted to protect her.
Every day, he wanted to walk away from the favor asked of him. But in his world, that would get him killed. It would get those he loved killed. There were no aspects of his life that were untouchable.
Tom Pruitt had people. Those people would come after River, and he wouldn't allow that.
He was in too deep.
It took twenty minutes to ride into town. That was twenty minutes he had to change his mind, turn around, and take River home.
Yet, when he arrived at the Wildberry Bar, he parked his Harley and helped River off the motorcycle.
She shook her head, untangling her hair. "What are we doing here?"
"We're going to eat."
"Did we have plans to have dinner together?" She pursed her lips.
He didn't indulge her by giving her an answer. She knew there were no plans. There never were, even when she begged him to come to the house.
Tonight, he'd acted without thinking. He saw Snake talking to her, and it pissed him off.
He put his arm across her shoulders, resting it on her backpack. "We have to eat. Might as well try someone else's food, huh?"
She glanced at him, frowning. "I suppose."
Nothing got past her. The last time he'd spent time with her, he was half drunk and ready to take what was always freely offered to him. But he'd never use River that way.
He walked inside with her and led her to a vacant table near the back of the bar. After the waitress took their order, he watched as River wiggled her arms out of her backpack and put it under the table, no doubt between her legs for safekeeping.
The bags have changed over the years. When he first saw her, she had a bright pink pack with yellow flowers. When she hit her teen years, she had a black one, probably to match the way her clothes changed from pastels to black. He wouldn't have known the backpacks meant so much to her because kids were always packing their books, clothes, and whatnot around. But for River, the backpack was a security blanket.
She was ready at any given time to move or be taken away, and she feared losing the few things she still carried from her past, when she had a mom, dad, and sister.
Nobody had a right to take that from her. She'd already lost a lot.
"What's wrong?" she whispered across the table.
He stopped rubbing his forehead. "Rough day."
"Did something more happen besides the campfire getting out of control?"
Within Gem Haven, he sheltered her. When she worked in the kitchen, her problems centered around the bar. Now that she worked at the campground, she focused on the campers.
The club's problems wouldn't touch her unless Valdone Motorcycle Club got ahold of Gem Haven. He'd lose the family compound and everything it contained, including the men and the women.
As much as he wanted to protect River from the ugliness of his life, his need to keep her safe overrode everything.
"I found out the men responsible for fires popping up around us are members of Valdone Motorcycle Club." He kept his voice low, not wanting the information to leak out. "In the past, they've wanted to take Gem Haven away from us."
She whispered, "Can the sheriff arrest them?"
He wasn't going to volunteer any information to the sheriff. If Valdone wanted war, he'd have war. But he wasn't a snitch, and he wouldn't bring more trouble down on him for identifying the arsonists.
"The sheriff's department can do their job without my help. The members will be watching and standing guard. Nobody is going to take Gem Haven away from us."
"I don't understand." Her brows pinched together. "If Gem Haven is in your name—"
"My dad's name."
"Okay, your father's name. These people can't steal it from you. They'd have to show paperwork that you sold to them, and it would all have to be filed in whatever government office records the deeds, right?
Being in the foster system had taught her the ins and outs of how the local government departments worked.
He leaned forward and braced his elbows on the table. That's how it worked when people followed the laws. But Valdone wouldn't care whose name was on the deed. They'd use Zane or River or any one of the members to keep the land in their possession.
The sheriff would never know the war between motorcycle clubs had started.
"In my world, whoever has possession of Gem Haven owns the property." He gathered her hand in his. "I want you to stay safe. Don't wander off Gem Haven property, and if you need to go to town, I'll take you."
"You're not in danger, are you? They won't try to hurt you?"
As far as he knew, he was safe while in Gem Haven. He was saved from answering by their food arriving.
Pointing with his fork, he motioned for her to eat. He wanted to sit here, look at River, and enjoy his time with her before he shut himself into the garage apartment tonight.