Chapter Five
Family Meeting
Royal
When Birdman told me that my brother was at the mall, I didn’t really believe him. I’d only agreed to fetch Kingston because I knew how my father was. When Birdman wanted something, it was best to follow orders rather than argue.
It surprised the hell out of me when I spotted him lurking near the corner of the Hot Locker, until I saw Kennedy and a thick, little brunette step outside the store. They were completely oblivious as Kennedy passed off a shopping bag.
I fell back, observing the blonde-haired parasite that I called brother in all his glory as he hesitated only a breath or two before following her.
“Fucking dumbass,” I whispered under my breath as I ventured down the hall after them with a huff.
He had no shame. No brakes. No intelligence really. His stocky frame just kept on traipsing past the men’s room without an ounce of concern to him.
The bold motherfucker went into the women’s room like he fucking belonged there.
I snagged the collar of his dark shirt and jerked him back toward the entrance before we ended up needing bail.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hissed once I got him into the hall.
His low, antagonistic laughter and the way his dark-blue eyes lit up irked me to my soul.
“Shit isn’t funny. You know what the fuck Forty would do if he found out you were bathroom peeping on his daughter?”
“Shut the fuck up,” King snorted, palming his temple like I was giving him a migraine.
He’d always been impossible. I tore my gaze away from him and noticed movement near the entrance of the lady’s room.
“Jesus Christ, she’s coming,” I hissed, shoving him along.
He stumbled out of the food court and dipped into a soap store. I could hear her fast-paced approach, but there just wasn’t time for me to get anywhere. So, I kept my back to her and hoped for the best.
When she didn’t breeze past, my curiosity got the best of me. I turned, only to find her back to me as she gazed down the long hallway.
I should have dipped.
It was the perfect chance.
Instead, I was hypnotized by her blondish-red hair. She’d never looked more striking, and I’d never been more stuck.
I was frozen in place, a sacrifice at her wait.
The fire in her eyes when she rounded on me felt like the floor had suddenly disappeared. I was free-falling.
Her lips were moving, and I tried to make casual conversation, but I felt like she could sense my every thought.
Each sordid one coming more vulgar and forbidden than the one before.
There wasn’t anywhere to go, and there was nothing I could do to stop those thoughts, or the urge to reach out and run my hand through her soft-looking hair.
I was completely at her mercy, until she shoved me and took off again.
“Goddamn, that was a good show. I swear, you wouldn’t know what to do with it if I gave you written instructions.” King taunted, his throaty, taunting laughter digging at me again.
I glared and huffed, completely exhausted by his bullshit.
“Birdman wants you at the house. I’m supposed to bring you,” I clipped.
“Right.” King scoffed, leaving me standing there as he started toward the mall exit.
“Yeah…” I mumbled, completely to myself. “I’ll meet you there.”
He was pulling out of the parking lot by the time I reached the mall exit. Ever the showoff, he made it scream as he pulled out into traffic. I wasn’t really worried about it; he knew better than to disobey Birdman.
He’d been surviving the bastard longer than me, after all.
I swung through Sonic and grabbed a drink to help me cool off. There was just something about those tiny pieces of ice that made it extra refreshing. And I needed it after that shitshow.
I’d been away at college for a while, so once I finished, I made the usual lap through our small town, checking out all the changes.
The local small-town grocer had closed since Wal-Mart opened up in the next town over, and the video store that had been popular all through my high school years was now boarded up and out of business.
Our town was small, so it didn’t take much time to see the highlights. Still, I didn’t want to cramp King’s audience with Birdman. Whatever had the ol’ man frowning and growling with every exhaled breath had nothing to do with me.
Better to let them work it out amongst themselves, I’d reasoned at the time.
One look at Birdman’s face where he stood glaring at me from the top step when I arrived home told me just how misguided that logic had been.
Shit.
I sniffed and killed my bike, taking my time as I gravitated toward him.
“Are you fucking simple, boy? What part of fetch your fucking brother to me didn’t you comprehend?
Hmm? You know the term ‘fetch’ means to bring, yes?
Bring.” He slowly enunciated the word, like he suspected it was the first time I’d ever heard it put to use.
“Not send. Fucking bring. Get your ass in here.”
He shook his head, thrust the screen door open like it had offended him and stepped into the house with a string of muted curses.
“Welcome home, Roy,” I pitifully sang to myself as I rolled my eyes and followed along.
The trailer reeked of the familiar scent of stale cigarette smoke.
King’s mother was funny like that. The woman vacuumed the floor every day, lifting the coffee table up to rest on the sofa while she done it.
Once the ground was clean, however, she forgot about everything else.
I never turned the ceiling fan on for fear of what it might kick up into the air.
I coughed and took a seat at the kitchen table between my brother and my father. I didn’t have a clue what he had up his sleeve. He usually just wanted us to back some vote or other, and as with all things, the path of least resistance was usually the best route where Birdman was concerned.
I gave my back to the wooden chair, and took a deep breath as I prepared to tune out for the next thirty minutes.
When no one spoke, I lifted my gaze and found them both staring at me.
“What?” I spat on instinct alone.
“You done?” Dad hefted both brows up like he’d interrupted a performance rather than my stoic silence.
“Uh–” I jerked my gaze toward King, as concerns over the pair’s sobriety suddenly hit me.
“Don’t fuckin’ look at him. He can’t give you direction. I got one with brains, one with brawn. I swear, the two of you will argue over what fucking color the sky is if I didn’t hold your hands and spell out every step. Are you fucking paying attention, Dickweed?”
“I’m dickweed, or…” I hesitantly hitched my thumb toward King, and Birdman’s face flushed.
I thought he was going to come out of his chair.
“I’m not messing around with you, Roy. You wanted an education… Fine. I tolerated it.”
My eyes nearly leaped out of my head.
Tolerated? He tolerated my going off to college?
“You want to go on vacation and chase uppity skirts, fine. Son, fine. Plow a field of them, I don’t give a fuck.
Long as they ain’t sniffing around for support and intel, I don’t care if you ran through every bougie bitch that campus had to offer you…
But that time is over now. Hmm? Playtime is done.
Enough with the paint by numbers, and the fucking… .”
He moved his hands in front of him, but it really wasn’t clear if he was shaping clay or jacking off a watermelon.
My expression must have said as much.
“You have your certificate; you can work at the shop now. You can dive into the life you’ve been neglecting and pretending you weren’t born into.
I swear, you’re an ingrate. Just look at you.
Sitting there gawking at me like I’m fucking speaking gibberish.
You were born into greatness, son. You were born for big things.
Both of you. You’re my boys, and it’s time to take what is owed to us.
No more settling for escapes and scraps. We’re taking it.”
“Taking what?” King piped up.
“Listen, as far as I’m concerned, my mother always told me didn’t nobody owe me a goddamn thing in this life. So, yeah…. Enlighten us, ol’ man.” I barely contained my amusement, my tone tinging with laughter.
He stared at me like he was debating on slitting my throat right where we sat.
“The fucking Saints, dumbasses. I’m taking the Saints from Forty. It should’ve been mine. I put in the work for that seat. All he ever did was snitch.” The way the last word rolled off his tongue sent chills through me.
I’d watched my father carve up a snitch or two in my younger years. I knew exactly what that word meant to Birdman.
“Forty is a fed?” King whispered, unable to lend words to the thought.
Birdman grimaced, and cut his eyes toward King, “I should have drowned you both at birth. Can I count on you or not?”
I sniffed, desperately trying to hold back my laughter as I awaited my brother’s answer.
When the silence spanned, I found them both staring at me again.
“What do you say, King? You going to hand your dad a coup and swallow this story?”
“It’s not a story. Kennedy already agreed to meet me. We just need you to… Well, he’ll tell you when the time is right.” King shrugged.
My whole face soured with the reality of the moment. They weren’t fucking kidding. Birdman meant to kill Forty, and my brother was already aware…
I tried to find my footing between paralyzing rounds of disbelief and nauseating levels of disgust.
“He isn’t going to betray us. He’s a fucking Crowe,” King attempted to sign me on.
“He is Penny’s son,” Kate pointedly sang, drawing my attention to her presence at the opening of the hallway.
“I am Penny’s son,” I quickly shot back, all but daring her to suggest that fact was anything short of a blessing.
She fought a smile as she lowered her gaze and committed to entering the dining area. She sashayed over to the counter and took her time pouring an oversized cup of coffee.
“Still putting meth in the filter so you can keep up with the Sweethearts?” It was beneath me, but there was something about my mother’s name falling off her painted lips that left me incapable of leaving it alone.
She made a sound between a snort and a laugh before turning to give her weight to the counter’s ledge while she studied me.
As much as I wanted to let her have it, I was intrigued by her presence. How long had she been there?
Did she know her husband was planning an MC coup against his own fucking club?
Was she okay with it?
The smile that curled across her lips plucked a disgusted groan from me. Birdman popped me on the shoulder, drawing my attention back to him.
“You’re serious?” I huffed.
“You’re slow.” He nodded, like it was something he was finally accepting.
Kate laughed wholeheartedly and casually made her way back down the trailer hall toward their bedroom.
“What the fuck do you want me to do?” I huffed, eager to get the hell out of there.
“Do Pacman.” He said it so flippantly, I wasn’t sure I heard him.
I had to have imagined it.
He wanted Forty and Pacman dead?
“Pac– What the fuck does he have to do with anything?”
“You can’t leave a son to avenge his father. You just can’t,” Birdman quietly explained.
I snorted and shook my head. Even wetting my lips didn’t help me find the words any easier. “You been watching too much of that historical shit. You ain’t no fucking Henry the Eighth, alright? People don’t just off each other for position and power. Even if you had a legit reason–”
“You didn’t hear me just say he’s a fucking snitch? You want to ride under a snitch?”
“Wh– what fucking charges? You have to be involved with law enforcement to snitch and no one is caught up in anything.”
“It wasn’t law enforcement he betrayed me to.” Dad slammed his hand on the table, unused to being questioned.
“And Forty being a snitch, that's reason enough to bury his son?” I shrugged and let out a laugh that was as dramatic as their plotting, “Why stop there? Why not his daughter.”
“Your brother has that in hand.” Birdman shot back, knocking the fire out of me altogether.
“Right.” I sniffed, shifting in my chair.
I was usually better at hiding my thoughts, but my gaze inadvertently ventured toward the door.
“If you walk out that mother fucking door without agreeing to pull your weight, I’ll bury you with them.”
He hadn’t injected any venom into his voice. Hell, he didn’t even raise his tone. He said it like it was simple.
As if I had done something that left him no choice.
And what was fucked up, was that somewhere, deep inside, I knew he wasn’t bluffing.
He wanted to lead, and it was clear that nothing and no one would get in the way of his ambition.
Not Kennedy. Not even me.
“Keep me informed.” I shot out of my seat, and King did, too. He flung his chair and stepped into my space. I didn’t flinch or back up, I tilted my chin to keep out of his headbutting range and stared down at him.
I knew I was playing with fire, but I couldn’t stop the laughter that crawled from me.
“In a world of dogs, you’re not the vicious Pitt you think you are, King. You’re just a guardian Pyrenees. Big and dumb. Unable to do anything but guard your master's property and do as your handler commands.”
His eyes flashed and Birdman shoved his way between us.
“Enough.” He roared, backing me up a few paces. “Are you fucking family or not?”
I hated that he still had the ability to cut me with those words alone.
I was family, and yet I wasn’t. I was the mistake he’d put on his sidepiece. The proof of the pudding that he’d forced Kate to suffer. I didn’t belong here, and never did, and yet, it was all I had.
“You know I am,” I growled.
“Good boy.” Birdman winked, reaching up to roughly palm my cheek.
I wanted to knock his jaw off its damn hinge, especially when I saw the condescending smile on King’s face.
“I gotta go,” I barely managed.