Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Walker
I push my feet into my boots and grab my coat. This has gone on way too fucking long. It’s time for me and Klutch to have a conversation, but I’m not stupid, so after hanging up with Wilder, I text Rowan.
“Where are you going?” Skylar asks, rushing into the mudroom.
“I can’t leave Wilder to deal with this on his own.”
“What are you going to do? You’re not the police.”
“No, but if shit hits the fan, he’ll need help.” I grip the base of her throat and plant a kiss on her lip. “I’ll be back.”
“Help with what?”
I step into the laundry room and open my gun safe behind the door. “Don’t worry. Nothing will happen. This is just a precaution.”
“You need guns as a precaution?”
I tuck my pistol into the back of my pants and grab my shotgun. I have no intention of using either, but I also won’t be caught with my pants down. “Lock the doors and stay inside. I’ll arm the security once I’m off the property.”
“Walker, please. Don’t do this.” Her eyes glass over, and I almost give in, but it’d be a temporary solution. Klutch isn’t giving up, and if I ever want to live in peace with my wife and our baby, I need to confront this head-on.
“I love you, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.” I kiss the top of her head and point at Sprocket, who’s jumping around, wanting to go for a ride. “Stay here and protect Skylar.”
As if understanding my words, he plants his ass down at her feet. I take one last look at my wife and walk out the door, waiting until I hear the snick of the lock to hop in my truck and head down my hill.
I don’t immediately go downtown. Instead, I drive over to Rowan’s place, where we wait for reinforcements. The Sons of Erebus were all too happy to back us up. Apparently, they’ve heard about the Broken Rebels and aren’t impressed with the business they run.
We step outside when we hear the rumble of bikes slowly creeping closer. The driveway is clear of any snow, but it’s all gravel. I glance over at Rowan when eleven bikers come into view.
“Is this a good idea?” I ask.
“Guess we’ll find out.”
“Walker, this is Cyrus, the club’s president.” Rowan introduces me to the older man, who, despite his graying beard and hair, looks dangerous as fuck.
“Good to meet you,” he says in a gruff voice that speaks to years of cigarette smoking.
“And these guys are Rigger, Lucky, Mustang, Golden, Dutch, and back there is Riot.” Rowan points to each club member. They all return some form of greeting, except for Riot. He barely gives me a glance from where he’s leaning against his bike, arms folded. “This is Walker. His wife’s late father promised her to the acting club president, but he’s an abusive piece of shit. She ran, and now that she and Walker have reunited, she wants nothing to do with him.”
“Let me guess,” Lucky, who’s even bigger and taller than I am, speaks up. “He’s not taking the news well?”
“You could say that,” I say, standing straight. I don’t want these guys to think they’re here because I can’t fight for my woman. “A couple weeks ago, they tried to shoot her on the street but ended up hitting her friend. Not long after that, we found a piglet with a dagger through its head at the base of my property.”
“Shit. Her friend okay?” Rigger asks.
“Yeah. She took a round to her stomach, but she pulled through.”
“So what’s the plan?” Golden, who looks more like an actor playing the role of a biker, asks.
“The club has invaded downtown, not doing anything against the law, just being rude and intimidating the townsfolk, trying to smoke Skylar out,” I say.
“What do you expect us to do?” the creepy-looking one, Riot, speaks up.
“This isn’t the Wild, Wild West, and we aren’t looking for a showdown. We just want to make it clear we aren’t cowering to them and Skylar is no longer their concern,” Rowan says.
“The Broken Rebels aren’t gonna back down just because we’re here. From everything I’ve heard about them, the only language they speak is violence,” Rigger says. “And my girl will kill me if I’m the one who takes a round to my gut next.”
“They came in with faces covered and no cuts when they shot at Skylar, so I don’t think any of them want to go to prison.” I lean against my truck.
“I don’t mind knocking a few skulls,” the big one, Lucky, says. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in a good fight.”
“If it comes to that, just try to keep the shops and the locals out of it,” Rowan says, and I shoot him a look that says we’re dead meat if things get out of hand. Wilder might put us both behind bars.
“All right. Let’s do this.” Cyrus straddles his bike and starts it up.
Rowan hops in my truck, and I back out of the driveway. “I hope this doesn’t backfire.”
“Me too.”
On our way downtown, I give Wilder a heads-up. He has been keeping an eye on Klutch for me, making sure he stays far away from my house. To say he’s glad we’re taking matters into our own hands would be the biggest understatement of the year. He’s pissed, but until we face them, they won’t go away.
I lead the Sons to the parking lot of the grocery store. Presley steps outside, looking nervous as hell until she sees Rowan and me. She offers us a tight-lipped smile, then goes back inside the store.
“Damn.” Dutch appears at my side. “She single?”
I grin. “Yeah. Presley’s good people.”
“I’ll be stopping for a gallon of milk on the way home then.” He pulls a beanie over his head.
As we walk down the main drag, we attract the attention of the Broken Rebels, just as I thought we would. We draw them out of each store we pass. The Sons don’t even spare them a glance, looking cool and confident. It helps to know they don’t seem to be concerned, but I wasn’t worried anyway. Everyone has a price, and I just need to find Klutch’s so I can get him to go the fuck home.
According to Wilder, he’s at the bar with a couple of his buddies, so that’s our destination. We’re just about there when I hear a car door open. It’s Wilder and Ridge. I was expecting Wilder, but Ridge being here surprises me. Not that I don’t think he could hold his own—he trains as much as Rowan and I do—but he’s a peacekeeper at heart.
“Why was Wilder the one to call and let me know what was going down?” he asks.
“Didn’t think you’d want to get involved,” I say.
“I wouldn’t for just anyone, but this is Skylar.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Appreciate the support.”
Rigger sidles up to us, eyeing Wilder, who’s talking to Rowan. “Hey, we’re not looking for jail time over this.”
“Don’t worry about him. As long as no one dies or brings out weapons, he’ll be cool.”
Walking into the bar, I spot four Broken Rebels, including Klutch, playing pool on the two tables in the corner. Three more are sitting up at the bar, and two are in a booth, eating burgers. I know the second they see us because tension fills the air. Cyrus, Lucky, and Rigger join us inside while the others are outside, standing guard.
Judging by the look on Klutch’s face, he knows exactly who I am. He sets his cue on the table and folds his arms over his chest. Why Skylar’s dad thought it was a good idea to hand his daughter over to this guy is beyond me. Not only is he fifteen years older than her, but Skylar is sweet and soft. Even when she shows her claws, it’s obvious it’s a front.
Klutch, on the other hand, is rough. He has a nose that has been broken so many times, the bridge zigzags. And you can tell the guy smells just by looking at him. He’s greasy and dirty, and if his shirt was white, I’d put money on there being yellow stains under his arms. Hygiene is clearly not important to this asshole. It makes me sick to think about him fucking Skylar, and it fills me with rage to know he did it without her consent.
“Didn’t feel like you could show your face without bringing your guard dogs?” He widens his stance, and I’m pretty sure Lucky growls behind me.
“Just invited some friends to make sure you behaved like good little boys,” I say.
He huffs. “You’re a dumb fuck if you think those pussies are any match for us. When an MC goes legit, it’s because they can’t hack the lifestyle.”
“Say that to my face, asshole,” Lucky says.
“Fuckin’ gladly.” He takes two threatening steps toward him before I stop him.
“Why don’t you just tell me why you’re here?”
He sneers. “Did you bring my fiancée with you too?”
I sneer right back. “You mean, my wife?”
He scoffs. “She wouldn’t dare marry you.”
That’s interesting. I would’ve thought while they were digging around, finding out where Skylar was and why, they would’ve found out about our marriage. Guess their cyber guy sucks.
“I promise you, she did. Matter of fact, in three months, we’ll be celebrating our sixteenth wedding anniversary.”
“Bullshit.”
“Why do you think she came here?” I ask.
“Because she thought she could outrun her obligations.”
“Wrong. She needed a divorce before you found out she was already married.” I smirk at the surprised look on his face. It feels good to have a leg up on him. “By the way, it says a lot about you that you have to use manipulation to get her to marry you. I didn’t have the same problem. She willingly walked down the aisle toward me.”
“You motherfucker,” he grits out, storming toward me. “I’m gonna fuck you up.”
He takes a swing, but I duck and land a hook to his side. He winces but is quick to grab me by the collar of my shirt to deliver a punch, hitting me square in the jaw. I ignore the pain and fist the hair on top of his head, forcing him forward into my knee. There’s a sickening crunch, and when he stands, blood is gushing down his face. With any luck, it’ll straighten his nose. He can thank me later for that one.
He growls and makes a move to attack, but Rigger, Cyrus, Lucky, and Rowan step up next to me while Wilder separates us. “I assure you, you don’t want to do that. I have deputies from my department and the next county over at every road out of town, just waiting for me to tell them to put up a roadblock. Even if you made it out of here still able to ride, you’d never make it out of town.”
I side-eye my friend, wondering if this is true. It wouldn’t surprise me for him to plan ahead like that, but since he didn’t tell me prior to now, he might be bluffing.
Klutch blows a bloody snotrocket onto the ground. “You won’t always have a protection crew, Walker.”
“You’re never getting her back. Just accept it and move on.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Why do you think that? Because of the house? She’s already accepted that you won’t give it to her, even though it’s rightfully hers, and you’re a bitch ass punk for holding it over her head.”
When he grins, I know whatever he’s about to say is going to be bad. “The house? Oh, didn’t you hear about the fire? It’s sad, really.”
“You didn’t.”
“Me? No. Faulty wiring.” He presses a couple buttons on his phone and shows images of Skylar’s childhood home burned to the ground, still smoking.
My heart breaks knowing what this’ll do to my wife. Letting the house go and knowing it’s gone are two different things. I stuff the emotion down, not letting him see even a flinch from me. “That house was the only thing you could possibly have that she’d want, and now that it’s gone, so is your leverage.”
His phone buzzes, and when he reads whatever it says, he tucks it in his pocket, looking smug as shit. “You want us gone? No problem. We’ll head out and let you bitches get back to whatever you do out here in Hicksville.”
The fast change has an alarm bell sounding in my head. If he doesn’t have the house, why did he sound so convinced he’d get Skylar back? There are no alerts on my phone, so I know Skylar’s still safe at the house. So if not that, then what?
We watch as they file out of the bar before following them. As if they were waiting for something and just now got confirmation, every last one of the Broken Rebels walks out of whatever shop they were in and climbs on their bikes. Then they’re gone, leaving me confused.
“What the fuck was that?” Cyrus asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Walker!” Rowan rushes out of the bar. “Something’s going on at your house.”
“I just checked. Everything’s fine.”
“No, it’s fucking not. I don’t know if Skylar turned it off or if it was hacked, but your system was shut down for ten minutes. It didn’t alert you because the code was used from inside the house.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” I say, but I don’t believe the words because would she? No, I can’t believe it. This isn’t like fifteen years ago. She wouldn’t do this to me again.
I thought I was over the hurt from the morning after our wedding, but the thought of her walking away from me again on her own makes me realize the doubt is still fresh. Even though I believe she wants me and the life we have planned, I still think she’d leave me if she thought she was protecting me. But I’m not some naive college student anymore. The situation is different, and her leaving wouldn’t do anything.
So if not because of that, then why?