Chapter 11
“Everyone off my property! NOW!”
My club brothers frown, their gazes shooting to the Marx crew as if I’m only speaking to them, and not everyone.
“Ringo.” Abbey comes rushing down the steps, Alana on her heels. “What are you doing?”
“Someone here went into Tahli’s room and put that note next to her,” I snap, my eyes remaining on the gathering crowd of men.
“Lewy has confirmed that the cameras were covered in some sort of foam spray, and since no one was picked up sneaking onto the property, it means whoever went into her room was already here amongst us.”
My gaze flashes to my Angel to see her pale, but she quickly shakes it off as she glances around.
“But we need them,” she whisper-snaps. “Who will watch the property? Who will protect us? Your mum and sisters?”
“Uhhh, yeah, big guy. Who the hell is making sure I don’t get slaughtered in my sleep?” Alana asks, actually sounding concerned instead of annoyingly playful for once.
“What’s going on, man?” JD asks as Smitty approaches, and, fuck me, everyone I glance at looks fucking suspicious. Like all of a sudden they’ve sprouted devil horns and are revealing their true evil fucking nature.
But they aren’t. They look just the same as they always do. It’s just my fucking paranoia.
I know exactly why Abbey reacted the way she did when we were in Tahli’s room earlier, because fuck. We have no fucking idea who is fucking us over. No fucking idea who we can and can’t trust.
“Who are we tossing?” Smitty sing-songs as he casually strolls to my side, looking back over the Marx men and Southern Sadists watching on.
“Everyone,” I snap, glaring at him.
It takes him a moment to notice that I also mean him, and when it clicks, he flinches back, slapping a hand to his chest.
“Moi?”
I roll my eyes at his dramatics.
“You, and you.” I turn to JD before shifting my gaze to Jols, who is standing behind him. “And you. Fucking everyone.”
Jols and JD frown, but I ignore them and turn back to the growing crowd.
“All Marx crew are no longer required,” I announce loudly so everyone can fucking hear. If I have to repeat myself, I’m gonna spill fucking blood. “All Southern Sadists return to the Fox Pines compound. I’ll be returning there later.”
The Marx crew glance at Riggs, who nods, and they turn and start packing up their stuff, while the Sadists scratch their heads dumbly for a moment, so I face Smitty.
“Get our guys back to the compound. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
“You the boss now?” Smitty snaps, looking pissed at me.
“When we are on my land, yes,” I hiss back, not in the fucking mood for his bullshit.
If he has a problem with it, he can have it out with me later.
Spinning on my heel, I point sternly to JD as I pass him on my way back to the house. “Pack your shit. I’ll meet you back at the compound.”
“The fuck.”
I keep walking, knowing he will follow, along with Jols, Abbey and my sister, and as soon as we are back inside, I close the door and press my finger to my lips.
Everyone falls quiet, and Abbey’s frown looks like it’s going to permanently stick with how deep the lines in her forehead are, but I need to explain, without actually fucking speaking.
Taking a page out of Dee’s book, I snatch up the notepad and pen off the buffet and start writing. Once I’m done, I slap the pad down on the table, pointing to it.
“That’s all I can give you for now. Please do as I’ve asked.”
Abbey is the first to read it, as JD, Jols and Alana close in, and my ma and Millie move across the room with Tahli.
There’s someone working for Banes on this property.
I don’t know who it is, so we are all leaving.
Everyone pack your bags, and go where I tell you to go.
Don’t question me. Just do it.
This is the only way I can think of to keep everyone safe.
Do not speak of this to anyone.
One by one, they read my note, and once they are done, I take the entire notebook, light the gas stove, and set the notepad on fire.
Ma doesn’t even scold me as I drop the burning paper into the empty sink, and turn on the exhaust fan to help reduce the smoke.
“You all know what to do,” I bark before pointing to Abbey. “Help Tahli with her stuff, then meet me upstairs.”
She nods, an almost numb expression on her face, but she does as I ask, moving to her little sister and taking her hand to lead her down the hall.
“Ma,” I sigh, facing the one woman who has always stood by my decisions, and fuck, I hope that hasn’t changed.
“When you say everyone,” she croaks, sounding tired, “you mean me too, don’t you?”
I nod, moving up to her and gently gripping her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Ma. You know I’d never ask you to do this if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”
Her smile is soft and warm as she stares up at me, her hand lifting to cup my cheek.
“I know, Cameron. I trust you, but I worry…” Her eyes well with tears. “Promise you’ll come back to me.”
I nod. “Always, Ma.”
She pats my cheek, nodding as she steps back. “Should I pack my bikini?”
Millie and Alana laugh, and I smirk at my ma’s humour, turning to see that JD and Jols have left the living room as well, doing as I asked of them.
“I have questions,” Alana speaks up, and Millie scoffs.
“How did you pass high school? You can’t even follow simple instructions.”
Alana rolls her eyes. “I just want to know if I can take some of those sexy Marx men with me.”
“Jesus Christ, Lans. No, you fucking can’t.” I glare at my sister. “They are returning to the city, and you are going somewhere else. Just do as I’ve fucking asked.”
“Fine, Jesus,” she scoffs, her face turning red as she shoulders past me, and Millie offers me a shrug, following our sister.
Fucking hell.
Outside, the Marx men load SUVs with their things while the Sadists mull around their bikes, smoking and chatting, and even though they don’t seem to be in a hurry, they are still packing their shit onto their bikes.
Satisfied that everyone is doing exactly what I’ve asked, I go upstairs, taking two at a time, and pulling out my phone as soon as I step into my room, making the call to the only person I feel like I can trust to keep my ma, my sisters, and Tahli safe.
I tap my foot impatiently, watching from the bay of windows in my room as my club brothers start to hustle when our Prez barks something I can’t hear. I huff as the call tone rings, my phone pressed tightly to my ear, and I’m about to hang up when it finally connects.
“Speak,” he barks, and I hope like fuck that making a deal with the Devil is the right thing to do.
Taking in a deep breath, I respond. “I need your help.”