Chapter Seventeen
“Dad, whoa, what’s the big deal?”
Colt asked, answering the phone. His dad was talking so fast.
“I need you to get out of the house right now.”
“My house?”
“Son, tell me right now, are you at home?”
Rosalie moaned and he felt her move as she sat up in bed.
“No, we’re not home, why?”
None of this made sense. His father was talking in riddles.
They hadn’t gone back to his place. Rosalie didn’t want to leave Petal alone, so they were now at her mom’s old place, where Petal lived. He’d not wanted to come back here, but it was too long a drive, and he was tired. Rosalie didn’t sleep well at night, and each time she moved, he was worried.
“Your house is about to take a hit.”
“Wait, what?”
He climbed out of bed and started to pull his pants on.
“Colt, what’s going on?”
Rosalie asked.
“I don’t have time to explain, but I need you and Rosalie to stay where you are. I’m going to send Pirate and Myth to go and check.”
“Dad, I’ll go and check. We’re good. No, don’t send—”
His father hung up, and Colt gritted his teeth. He hated when his dad did this.
“Colt, what is going on?”
Rosalie asked.
“I have no idea. My dad is talking in riddles. None of what he is saying is making sense.”
He rubbed the back of his head and quickly pulled on his socks, followed by boots.
Within seconds Petal was opening the door. “Is everything okay?”
He was used to Petal just randomly opening doors, asking if things were okay. There was a time he was a little pissed about it, but now he didn’t mind.
“I don’t know what is going on. Dad just called—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish as Dirty suddenly appeared, dressed in a pair of boxer briefs.
“Colt, man, your house is on fire.”
This had his wife climbing off the bed. “What? No, that is, no, that can’t be happening!”
Rosalie was already reaching for her clothes, and Colt started to leave the bedroom.
“Rosalie, you cannot come with me. I’m going to check it out.”
“You’re crazy. I am not sitting home twiddling my thumbs while our house is on fire. This can’t be happening.”
He turned to Petal.
“Go,”
Petal said. “I’ve got this.”
He moved fast, heading downstairs. Dirty had somehow managed to get on a pair of pants and his leather cut. The only person he trusted to keep Rosalie safe was Petal. She’d keep her here, and he didn’t want her to see their house if it was burning.
Leaving Petal’s home, he climbed onto the bike, revved his engine, and took off, riding fast and hard to get to his place. He didn’t even need to get there to see the smoke rising.
By the time he arrived, several of the club was there, along with a bunch of fire crew, who were already working to extinguish the fire. His father was there already.
“What the fuck?”
Colt asked.
His dad held him back.
“I’ve got you, son.”
“No, this shit can’t be happening.”
He saw his home, his and Rosalie’s place, burning.
This was … what the hell had happened? There was nothing he could do but watch the smoke engulf it, knowing there were a whole lot of memories, his and Rosalie’s, along with her mother’s that had been taken from them.
****
Lockdown.
It had been a long time since Warden had declared a lockdown, bringing the men, along with those associated to the club, to the main clubhouse. Petal was staying in his room. She had been the one to collect Tanya and Leanna. They were not willing to risk anyone else getting hurt.
Fritz was at the hospital, with round-the-clock protection. All the doctors were checked. No corner was left unturned in the protection of the club.
Dirty sat in church, and Warden sat at the head of the table. Since Colt’s house burning down, Dirty knew there was going to be an update, and they were all just waiting for one. The minutes ticked by.
Rosalie had been so upset. Her home was gone. All the furniture that had been purchased for the baby was gone as well. The memories of her mother gone. She hadn’t kept anything at their old home, and now it was all gone. Dirty didn’t know what to say. He knew she had mourned that day, it was like losing her mother a second time.
He and Colt hadn’t been able to have their women as Petal and Rosalie were consoling one another. They couldn’t get between them. Dirty knew his woman would come to him when she was ready, and he wasn’t wrong. The moment Rosalie was ready, she went to Colt as well. It had only taken a day and a night, and then the two were back where they were meant to be.
Glancing across the table, he saw Colt frowned. His arms were folded. He was pissed. He put a lot of hard work into that house, and they all knew he had finally made plans to be with Rosalie, to build his family there.
They were all going to make sure his home was complete. The Evil Fuckers MC compound project was currently put on hold. They would get that apartment building up, but until they handled the tidal wave of shit, they were not going to lose any more money.
Warden didn’t speak. They all sat in silence.
Dirty thought about Fritz. The club brother had to have been getting close to something to warrant an attack. Men didn’t go out of their way to hurt others unless they had a reason. Fritz was their link, and currently he was still in a coma.
The silence was starting to feel deafening.
“Fritz has the answers,”
Warden said, finally speaking up. “What happened to him, I’ve heard of it before. The man goes by Diablo.”
He sat up and looked at each of them. “He usually only works for the mafia.”
“If he works for the mafia, what is he doing attacking us?”
Colt asked.
Warden looked toward his son. “I believe Daemon had some kind of deal with the mafia, or at the very least, Diablo. Some hit men can’t be controlled, and they take the job with the highest offer.”
“That’s not Daemon,”
Myth said. “Come on, if that was the case, he’d have used that bastard to take out Colt, and not some amateur that killed Gabrielle.”
Warden sat back and rubbed his lip. “This is why we need Fritz. He has the key to whatever is going on. He knows why he was attacked. He has the details. There is nothing more I can say or do. He’s the only one. All I know is that Fritz’s torture and Colt’s house are connected.”
“You don’t think they left the stove on?”
Vixen asked.
“Fuck you, Vixen,”
Colt said.
“None of you like the idea of mafia connections. Fritz could just be bad luck and the Evil Fuckers got lucky, or it’s exactly what we’re about to face. The mafia.”
Dirty looked toward Warden and had a feeling there was something he wasn’t telling them. He wasn’t going to ask him.
Warden was thinking, debating, working out strategy, and then he sat forward again. “If I am right, and Diablo is Fritz’s torturer, that narrows down the people he works for. He’s a lot of money. Some people think of him as more of a ghost. He goes in, gets the job done, and leaves without a trace.”
“Other than a body?”
Colt asked. “And a burned-up house?”
“But no one knows it’s him. There is never any evidence, nothing tying it to him or to his bosses. He’s that good.”
“If he’s that good, how come I’ve never heard of him?”
Colt said.
Warden looked toward his son. “Because there are some circles that do not mix well, you know this, and stop behaving like a child.”
This always pissed Colt off. It rarely happened where Warden would call him out on his shit, but even he had to admit Colt was being a brat. The man had a reason to be acting that way. His home was gone. All that hard work ended within a few hours.
“Okay, so if we’re to believe this Diablo fucker is the person that hurt Fritz and set fire to Colt’s house, who would he be working for?”
Dirty asked, finally speaking up.
He wanted to know the key threat.
Warden sat back, doing that long thinking thing.
“Don Stefano Napoli,”
Warden said.
Dirty looked toward Warden and waited for the punch line or the joke. There was nothing. No one was laughing now. Don Stefano Napoli was one of the most feared men in the mafia. He was also one of the youngest Italian bosses ever. Even though he didn’t follow mafia politics, he’d heard stories about the man. He’d never met him. In fact, there were rarely any images of him to see. The man was a mystery, and to many a legend.
“Why would he get involved with MC politics?”
Colt asked. “It makes no sense.”
“It makes sense if Daemon was in business with him,”
Warden said. “He is the only one who would have total control over Diablo.”
“Wouldn’t he more likely be the one doing the killing?”
Myth asked.
Warden shrugged. “That is all I know and I’m going based on fucking thin air.”
He pushed out his chair and began to pace. “The only one who will know for sure is Fritz, and if he is able to wake up and remember, that is also a long shot.”
Dirty took a deep breath and then leaned forward. “So, what do we do?”
****
Petal made her way into the bathroom to find Tanya on her back, inspecting one of the sink pipes.
“Let me guess, it was leaking?”
Petal asked.
Tanya laughed. “Kind of, and I don’t see the point in telling someone when I can simply tighten it, and ta-da, job done.”
Petal smiled. “How are you holding up?”
“Oh, you mean being in a clubhouse with a load of men I don’t know, my daughter falling in love with all of them because she loves the company? It’s fine. It’s not good, I hope we’re not here too long, but it’s fine. It sounded serious on the phone, and I cannot believe Rosalie has lost her home,”
Tanya said. She finished tightening the pipe, then she got to her feet and put her tool in a working bag. She washed her hands.
“You might want to take a shower,”
Petal said.
Tanya laughed. “Don’t worry, I actually cleaned this whole room which is how I was able to spot the leak.”
“You cleaned it all?”
“Yeah, I don’t make a habit of not cleaning … and you know, I don’t like mess or muck.”
“And you had children.”
Tanya laughed and it was a strange sound, almost high-pitched. “That’s a different kind of mess and besides, I don’t mind Leanna’s mess. There’s something about having toys strewn all over the place, you know?”
“I guess I am going to have to take your word for it.”
Petal leaned against the sink, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.
“Are…”
Tanya stopped and scrunched up her nose, but then started to talk. “You want to talk about it? You and Dirty?”
“Not really, I mean, I don’t think so. It’s … complicated, you know. I don’t know what I want to talk about, really.”
Tanya dried her hands on a towel and Petal saw they were clean. She had a feeling the laundry was also getting done as well. Kim always did what she could for the clubhouse but the men, at times, were slobs. Nothing ever stayed clean for long. Petal knew all about that.
“Do you have feelings for him?”
Tanya asked.
She looked up toward her friend and laughed. “Do you really want to know?”
“The truth, not really, but as a friend, I have a feeling you need to get this off your chest, and I am all ears.”
Petal sighed. “Dirty and I have history. It’s not good history, but…”
“Tell me. I won’t judge, trust me. I will not judge anyone’s past.”
“Okay.”
Petal didn’t know if she should, but then she found herself telling Tanya what went down between her and Dirty.
Everyone in their circle had their own agenda. Myth couldn’t be impartial as he was club brothers with the man, and although they were friends, club would always come first. The same with Kim. She would be on her side but also hoping for a reconciliation as Dirty was club. Rosalie was on her side, and would always think of Petal’s best interests. There was no one else, since she would never ask Colt his advice.
Once she finished she glanced over to Tanya.
“You’ve been through a lot,”
Tanya said.
“It’s not that bad.”
“You shouldn’t do that. It doesn’t matter who has been through good or bad, or no matter how little. It’s still a lot. People handle pain and loss differently. No one is the same, and no one should be comparing their level of pain or what they experience with someone else. I’m sorry, that is just wrong,”
Tanya said. “Why does there have to be a measurement? Would you make Rosalie compare your losses and gains? Would you tell Rosalie to shut up because of what you’d experienced, compared to hers?”
“Hell, no,”
Petal said. “I would never do that.”
“Then stop doing it with regard to your own level of pain. You don’t have to be right or wrong, it’s based on what you feel.”
Petal smiled at Tanya. “And based on that, what do you think?”
“I can’t give you advice on this, Petal. I’m not trying to be an asshole or avoid it. This is between you and Dirty, and friends who get in the middle tend to get blamed if it goes bad. I like you, and in case you didn’t notice, I don’t have a lot of friends. I like to keep the ones I do make.”
Tanya put a hand on her shoulder. “But, what I will say is that man, for everything he had done or not done, does love you, a lot.”
“How do you know?”
Petal asked.
“I see it when he comes into the diner. I barely know him, but I see enough to know he is in love with you.”
Tanya pulled away, and Petal was left alone in the now very clean bathroom. She hoped the guys did not get used to this.
She had come into the bathroom to help her friend, and Tanya had done more of the helping.
****
Rosalie made her way into the kitchen, where she found Colt, alone, drinking a mug of coffee. They hadn’t talked properly since their home burned down, and she had been with Petal. She had wanted to be with Colt, but he’d been so angry.
“Hey,” she said.
Colt looked over to her and smiled, putting his coffee mug down, and opening his arms.
This still felt surreal to her, going into Colt’s waiting arms, embracing her husband, seeking his love and attention. She didn’t hesitate, and he held her tightly.
“I’ve got you,” he said.
“What are we going to do?”
Rosalie asked.
“Simple, we’re going to rebuild. The guys have already told me they’re going to help. We’ve got the fire department finishing their final checks and doing all their investigative shit, and then we’ll move on.”
“Why are they investigating?”
Rosalie asked.
“Checking for the insurance, but the bonus is, they set fire on the wrong night. We were at Petal’s, and the guys were either at the clubhouse or the hospital. We’ve got security footage for both, also the fact I was staying with you. We’ve got this, I promise.”
“What do you think would have happened if we’d gone home?”
she asked.
“Don’t. I don’t even want to think about the possibility of what might have happened. We didn’t. We’re safe and we’re going to make this work. We can build a house together, and you can have what you want.”
Rosalie laughed. “Then all I want is for you to rebuild what we lost. I thought your house was perfect.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I did.”
She went onto her tiptoes and kissed her husband. Their home had been perfect, and she knew it was going to be so again.