Chapter 27
Calm is anything but what I fucking feel, yet calm is what I try to be as Griffin’s words sink in.
Ewan wants Smitty gone. Dead. And he wants me to replace him.
Fucking hell. Could this shitshow get any fucking worse?
“Ewan wants me to challenge the President in a fight to the death,” I growl, fighting for fucking control. “Which I could potentially lose, but if I’m lucky enough to win, I have to take the role and run the fucking club?”
“Exactly.” Griffin nods, and Abbey gasps next to me.
“No!” she cries. “You can’t ask him to do that.”
“Actually, we can.” Griffin’s glare is directed at my wife.
“We gave our men to you to use. To protect you all. Not only did that leave the rest of my family and our empire vulnerable, but it cost us wages and some of our men’s lives.
” Griffin sits forward, anger starting to contort his expression.
“So, yeah. It’s a big fucking payment for a big fucking favour. ”
As his words sink in, so does my reality.
I always knew the payment was going to be big. For some reason I had it in my head that they might not call on it for a number of years. Figured they’d want me to kill some high-level sob that was getting in their way.
But this… this is fucking different.
Sighing, I run my hand down my face, feeling fucking exhausted.
Ewan Marx wants Nate Smith dead. My President. And he wants me to kill him and take over the Southern Sadists.
“Can we pay your family back another way?” Abbey asks. “Money? Shit, I’ll strip on that stage if that’s what you want!”
“Like fuck!” I snarl, glaring at my wife, but the moment I see the tears in her eyes, I fucking soften. “Angel. This payment isn’t for you to pay. It’s for me. I asked them for help. Not you. I will be the one to pay back my debt.”
“Fine.” She throws her free hand up, exasperated. “Then you strip on that stage.” She points to the door, in the direction of the rest of the club and the stage beyond. “I assure you, women and men will want to see that!” she yells at Griffin, and I chuckle.
“Angel… are you pimping me out?”
“Yes,” she sobs. “Just for people to look at, though.”
Reaching out, I cup her cheek, catching a fat tear that bursts free. With her eyes locked on mine, I swear I can see right into her soul at this moment. Her only real concern is me, and what might happen if I go through with this.
“Maybe both of you can get on that stage.” Devon snickers. “We could make some decent coin off the two of you. I’ll look after Bobbi while you’re busy working off the debt…” All humour falls from his face as it turns to stone. “For the next one hundred and fifty fucking years.”
His hard eyes dart between me and my wife before he points down the table to his cousin.
“Your debt has nothing to do with me, since I don’t bow to my uncle. But I can tell you right fucking now, there’s only one other way out of it, and it’s fucking cold six feet under.”
A low growl reverberates in the back of my throat as I glare at Devon, but it’s my wife’s hand darting out in front of her, flipping the fucker off that keeps me calm.
“Fuck you, Devon,” she snarls. “If this doesn’t relate to you, then why are you even here?”
A smirk tugs at his lips as he lounges back in his chair. “I like you feisty. Must be where your little sister gets it from.”
Abbey stiffens, but it’s Griffin who speaks, trying to calm the situation.
“Abbey, your sister is perfectly safe. Devon is just being a prick to get a rise out of you.”
“I hope she annoys the hell out of you while she’s there,” my wife counters, and Devon’s grin grows.
“She’s nailing that pretty fucking well. She’s made friends with a couple of our younger girls. The three of them are going to give me grey hair.”
A slow smile spreads across Abbey’s beautiful face.
“She’s made friends?”
He nods.
“She’s having fun?”
He nods again.
“Like the sort of fun kids have?”
“Yep,” he confirms.
“And no church stuff?”
“No fucking way,” he scoffs. “I don’t allow God worship in my town.”
“Ha,” Abbey laughs, her caramel eyes flicking to mine. “She’s being a kid.”
“Yeah, Angel. This fucker might be a prick, but he gives women and children a safe space to heal and learn to live happily again.”
Even though she’s smiling, she hasn’t forgotten why we’re really here as she turns back to Devon.
“Why are you in this meeting if it doesn’t relate to you?”
Devon shrugs. “Kinda wanted to meet the kid.” He gestures to Abbey’s arms. “And this fucker needs my brand of godliness to get shit done.”
When he bobs his head towards Griffin, Abbey scoffs, but relaxes back again, her eyes falling to her daughter.
“So you’re here as a scare tactic?” she asks, and Devon shrugs.
“Did it work?”
She flips him off again.
“Getting back on track,” Griffin barks, glancing at his watch. “You know what Ewan wants now. So, start planning for it. Figure out a way to challenge Smitty without being fucking obvious. Use him as a scapegoat if you have to. Just get it done soon.”
“How fucking soon?” I snap.
“Ewan would say yesterday. I, however, will play interference until the end of the month.”
Griffin stands as if that’s the end of the fucking conversation, so I stand too, stepping in his path as he tries to pass.
“And once it’s done? Once I’m in the role I never wanted to be in, what will he ask of me then?”
“Just that you don’t run the club like a crazy fucker and be sure to stick to those morals of yours.”
“That’s it?” I ask and he nods.
“That’s fucking it.”
Clapping me on the shoulder, Griffin steps around me and moves to Abbey to get a better look at Bobbi, but my wife is done with these Marx men right now, and she shifts away, not letting him get close.
I try to picture myself as the Southern Sadists President with Abbey by my side, but right now, it’s hard to see.
I’ve never wanted that role in the club. I was hoping to step away from it a bit more once all this shit is over, and focus on my new little family. Maybe make it bigger if Abbey is keen on that idea.
But fuck me. How am I meant to do that and run an outlaw club?
It’ll put a bigger target on my back, and in turn, Abbey’s too.
“How long will I be expected to remain the President?” I spin, facing Griffin, and it’s like he was waiting for me to ask.
“You’ll have to ask Ewan. If you’re lucky, he’ll let you walk away in maybe five years.” Griffin shrugs. “Maybe ten. Who knows?”
Five or ten fucking years…
When Abbey’s eyes meet mine, I instantly see the uncertainty in them.
She’s not going to want an MC life for her or Bobbi. And fuck. I don’t blame her.
Maybe this is what the real payment is. I’ll have to give up her and everything I love, just to keep protecting her.
Fuck Ewan Marx. The only reason he agreed to give me his men was so that he could take control of yet another fucking thing.
Grinding my teeth, I reach out and take my wife’s arm, gently escorting her to the door, her distraught expression nearly fucking breaks me.
When we step out into the passage, Jared’s and Dee’s glares are directed at the Marx men, and I get a little satisfaction that even though they are both on the Marx payroll, their real loyalty lies with Abbey.
Walking out to the car with us, Dee and Jared dote over Bobbi, and swoop in for a closer look when Abbey puts her into the car seat.
When Jared gives my wife a hug, I don’t even get jealous, because, fuck. I know he’d protect her. Maybe even better than I can, given this new fucking turn of events.
I give them a few minutes to say their goodbyes, and not long after, we’re back on the road towards Fox Pines, the streetlights of Redfield fading as we drive onto the pitch black country roads.
“Let’s just keep driving,” Abbey whispers, and I glance her way to find those big doe eyes already looking at me. “Don’t go back to the club. Let’s just go. Leave this place behind and start over somewhere else.”
Reaching out, I cup one side of her face while steering with my other hand, my eyes darting between her and the road.
“I wish it were that easy, Angel. But Tahli needs you. And my ma…” I let that hang in the air the moment guilt flashes over her expression.
“Yes. Of course. You’re right.” She shakes her head, clearly annoyed at herself, the movement dislodging my hand, so I re-grip the steering wheel. “But Cam… you can’t do what they want.”
My heart fucking races at the reminder of Ewan’s payback request.
Well, I guess it’s not really a fucking request, is it?
“I don’t have a choice,” I rasp, watching a hare dash across the road up ahead and disappear into the long grass.
“There has to be another way,” she pleads with me like I can change the situation, and my heart fucking sinks.
“There’s not,” I state, wishing we didn’t have to have this fucking conversation.
Somehow, I need to find a way to throw Smitty under the bus to make challenging him acceptable.
If I had known about this a few days ago, I could have used the punishment I gave him for what he did to Daniel as the challenge.
I could have declared him not fit to lead us.
But that’s been dealt with. My knuckles are still fucking scabbed up from it.
“What if you go to Ewan and explain the situation? Surely he’ll understand,” Abbey whisper-yells, clearly getting angry, and I want to yell back. But I don’t.
There’s no point in getting angry with each other when it’s really someone else we are angry at.
“Angel, stop. You saw how Griffin and Devon are. They are two men you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.
But Ewan. He’s something else entirely.” I grip the wheel so tight, I feel the scabs on my knuckles splitting.
“I don’t want to fucking do what he wants, but I have no choice.
It’s not just me who will suffer if I don’t.
It will be you. Bobbi. Your sister and mine.
My ma.” I shake my head. “I’m fucking sorry, Angel.
But this is the life of organised crime.
If we’re not getting hounded by cops and detectives, then we’re making shady business deals and hoping our best mate doesn’t stab us in the back. ”
Her quiet sobs float to me, and one look at her and all I see is the back of her head.
She’s hiding herself from me. Probably disgusted with the man she married. Probably trying to figure a way out.
I wanted to change, to be a man worthy of her love. But maybe pieces of shit like me can’t be rewired like that. Maybe we’re only given fleeting samples of happiness, just enough to keep us chasing it, knowing deep down we’ll never win that lottery. We’ll never know what it feels like to keep it.
Fuck. I know what I have to do, and doing it will probably kill me. It will ruin me worse than taking Smitty’s life ever could. But for my beautiful Angel… My fucking heart and soul… I know the only way to make her and Ewan happy is to obey him… and say goodbye to her.
A million words flicker through my mind as we drive back to the compound, all of them words I should say to my wife, but I don’t speak a single one of them.
I can’t.
I just fucking can’t.
She sobs quietly as I drive, trying to hold in her pain, but every now and then, it escapes in a loud sob, and all I can do is rest my hand on her thigh and give it a gentle squeeze, hoping it’s enough.
The moment we turn off the main road onto the compound driveway, she swipes frantically at her eyes, trying to get the tears to stop, but it’s really no use. Anyone who sees her is going to know she’s been crying from her puffy eyes.
I keep that to myself, though. She might actually kill me if I annoy her right now, and I can’t protect her if I’m dead.
The floodlights are illuminating the yard up ahead outside the barn, and I frown as we get closer, seeing two SUVs parked off to the side that I don’t recognise.
Slowing the Landy, we idle forward as I try to figure out what the fuck might be going on.
“Angel, check my phone,” I snap, and she springs into action, taking my phone from the console and opening it. “Any missed calls or messages?”
“No.” She shakes her head before taking out her phone too. “None on mine either. But there also isn’t any service.”
“Something’s not right,” I hiss, pressing my foot to the brake and quickly flicking off the headlights.
“What is it?” Abbey rushes out, fear lacing her tone.
“We’ve been gone a few hours, and in that time, no one’s called. No one’s texted. Now there are two cars I don’t recognise. That wouldn’t normally mean shit, but since I usually get fucking memes off JD every half hour, and no one has warned me about visitors, I’ve got a bad fucking feeling.”
“What do we do?” she whispers like someone might overhear. “Wait. Who is that?”
I glance in the direction she’s pointing, towards the line of trees near her side of the car. I squint, trying to make out what she can see, since there’s no fucking moonlight to help tonight, and it takes me a moment to spot two figures, rushing from tree to tree, coming towards us.
“Gun,” I bark, taking mine out, and Abbey finds hers a second later before scurrying over the middle console and into the back seat.
“Should you reverse the car up?” Abbey whispers into the dark, and I grunt in response, watching the shadows move closer.
“I don’t think they are a threat,” I say a moment later, taking in the feminine and male silhouettes. As far as I can make out, they keep darting glances over their shoulders back towards the barn, so to me, it looks like they are running from something. Not running to attack.
“Ringo… I’m scared. Bobbi…”
“I know, Angel. Trust me, I won’t let them hurt her or you.”
With one hand on the gun and the other ready to shift the car into reverse, I wait, watching them dash closer.
“Oh, wait,” Abbey gasps. “I think it’s Nessy.”
Holding my breath, I hope like hell she’s right because they are getting too fucking close for comfort, but a moment later, they spring from the treeline, darting over to us, Nessy and Brody coming into view.
“Fuck,” I sigh, relieved it’s them, and I put the window down. “The fuck’s going on?”
“You gotta go!” Brody pants, desperation in his voice. “Get Abbey and Bobbi outta here.”
“Why?” Abbey cries. “What’s happening?”
“Abbey,” Nessy pants, “it’s your mum and grandfather. They are here!”