19. Amber
19
AMBER
The meeting with Cash went well, and he’s fully supportive if I need the club’s resources to help find Erica. It’s a relief, because although I’ve known Cash for years, I never want to just assume anything. Knowing the twins are working on my case, probably during club hours, felt like the right thing to do.
Bronco, on the other hand, is like a cat on a hot tin roof as I make my way to the bar to begin setting up. “What’s wrong?” I ask him.
“Nothin’, just gotta get to the shop and do some shit.”
I cock a brow. “What shit?”
“Paperwork mainly.”
Somehow, I know that he’s not telling the entire truth. He forgets how well I know him, but I don’t want to pry. “Okay, I’ll see you later on maybe.”
He gives me a chin lift. “You heard anythin’ from Star yet?”
I shake my head. “Nope. God, Bronc, this is tearing me apart every day that she’s missing. I don’t know how much more I can take, and Olive is starting to ask more and more when her mom’s coming back.”
He folds me into his arms. “I know it’s hard, babe, but you gotta try and hold out a little longer. You’ve got the best people working on findin’ her, gotta believe that.”
I try not to let tears fall. I’ve been a strong person for a long time, but it’s taken me eons to get here. Now I feel as if it’s all falling apart. If anything’s happened to Erica, I don’t know what I’ll do.
“I miss her.”
“I know you do, and with all the love she has right here from her family, you know she’s gotta come back. Like you said, she’d never leave Olive unless it was?—”
“Life or death?” I finish when he pauses.
“I wasn’t gonna say that.”
I pull out of his embrace. “But you were thinking it, because that’s the reality. It’s something I need to get a grip on and try to face. If all of this turns to shit and Erica isn’t coming back, then I have to be strong for Olive.”
His face softens, his eyes the most incredible shade of honey today. I swear they change color like one of those mood rings. “Yes, but it’s okay to ask for help, and it’s more than okay to let people help you.”
“I just didn’t want to be a nuisance to the club.”
He strokes a stray tear that rolls down my cheek traitorously. “You’re never a nuisance, babe, so don’t ever say it. We’re a family here, you know that.”
He’s right. The one thing I do know about the NOLA Rebels MC is the brotherhood they have extends to everyone. They really are just one big family.
“I know, but I worry so much. This isn’t like Erica, Bronc. I don’t know what I’m gonna tell Olive if she’s not coming hom?—”
He puts a finger over my mouth. “She will be comin’ home, gotta have faith.”
My eyebrows raise. “I used to have faith.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “For a long time, but I lost that somewhere along the line.”
“I didn’t mean religious faith,” he corrects. “Just the belief that you’ll see her again.”
Him and his woo-woo. I plant a kiss on his cheek. “You really are a good man.”
“I tell myself that all the time.” He moves his head and his lips find mine. It’s soft, slow, and barely there.
My heart rate kicks up several notches. Before I know it, I’m clutching onto his shirt, pulling myself closer. I need contact like I need air. I need him like I need air. “You know how to distract me.” I’m practically panting when I pull back. “I’ll give you that.”
“Not bad for a fake boyfriend.”
I don’t know why, but hearing the fake part hits home. Do I really want him to fake all of this in public because I’m the one who’s running away? I know deep down in my heart that fuck buddies won’t work forever. What happens when someone comes along that turns his head, and then where will I end up when this is over?
Do you want more? I want to whisper it, and I’m so close, but I’m afraid of his answer. Afraid of what it means when we eventually have our first fight. I’m looking for excuses, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I’m wired this way.
“Best I’ve ever been with.”
As if he can see the hopelessness I feel, he cups my face and brings his forehead to mine. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”
I blow out a breath. “So much, Bronc, but now isn’t the time or place. We probably need to talk.”
“Uh, oh, don’t tell me you’re sick of me already.”
I manage a half-smile. “I could never be sick of you, but I think my expectations going into this may be different from yours.”
He pulls back, his furrowed features meeting my gaze. “You lettin’ me down gently, Princess?”
“No. I just don’t want to get hurt.”
“I would never hurt you.” The words are out fast, and I know he means them with every fiber of my being. “You know that.”
I’m being ridiculous. I want to tell him. I want to hold him close and tell him he’s the man of my dreams and I’m falling for him, but the words won’t come out. “Later,” I whisper. “I’ve gotta get moving.” Reluctantly pulling away, I step behind the bar, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands.
“Babe, I don’t want to leave you like this.”
“I’m fine, Bronc, just being silly.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but then his phone dings. Sliding his cell out of his back pocket, he reads the text and frowns. “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” I try to sound brighter. I’ve never been one to take pity on myself, and I don’t want to start now. “Have a good day. I’ll call you if I hear from Star.”
He nods, giving me a small smile. “Later.”
He takes off, and I press my hands against the bar, taking several deep breaths.
When did this happen?
When did I fall big time for my best friend?
Maybe it was that night he beat up those two assholes; I definitely looked at him in an entirely new light after that. Or the hundred times we’ve hung out and he’s done something super sweet, or was just there, doing what Bronco does best. A large part of my belief is that I don’t deserve him. That he’s too good for me, and I know I have to overcome that, but I don’t know how. This wasn’t supposed to be complicated, but I think we just went way past that.
Bronco
“Cut City Boys?” I mutter to myself as I dial Ryder back. He picks up on the first ring.
“Got my message.”
“Wait, I’m pretty sure that gang was taken out after we raided that shit hole in the bayou.” I remember it well, and so would Hustler since they nabbed Audrina.
“Well, clearly we didn’t get one of the assholes.”
“What you doin’ with him?”
“He’s at the warehouse.”
I scratch my head. “What’s this gotta do with?—”
“Prospect’s been makin’ sure all the club’s interests are protected, along with JJ, Bullet, Chains, Pipes and Bandit when they’re not workin’ elsewhere.”
“Okay.” I knew they did regular checkups, but I’m not prepared for what comes out of his mouth next.
“Pipes caught one of ’em sniffin’ around Amber’s place.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, piece of shit won’t talk.”
I snort. “Oh, he’s gonna do some talkin’. I’ll meet you there. I’ll let Cash know I'm still at the clubhouse.”
“He won’t be far behind you.”
“Got it.”
I hop on my sled, fury running through my veins. So Titan was right. Some asshole was snooping around last night, and now they’re back again during the day. I hope this piece of shit is ready to suffer, because the one thing I know how to do is get a man to talk.
“Not sure he’s the best person to be doin’ this,” Harlem mutters when I break another bone in this asswipe’s finger. So far, he’s on his third.
The howl that leaves him is pathetic. I slap his face, ignoring Harlem. There’s something about a slap, rather than a punch, that’s humiliating. “I’m only gonna ask you one more time, fuckface, and then I’m gonna cut your dick off. What were you doin’ at my woman’s place?”
He’s a mess; bloodied and beaten up. Before I arrived, Tag and Harlem fucked him up pretty bad, and I’ll admit, he’s taken quite the beating. “I can’t?—”
I sucker punch him in the guts. “Wrong answer.”
I go for his buckle, not envying the idea of touching his dick, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.
“Wait!” he cries. “I don’t know who sent me, but before the raid, some asshole was snoopin’ around, askin’ about club girls at the NOLA Rebels MC.”
My gaze shifts over to Cash without even moving my head. He’s livid. If there’s one thing he or anyone in this club can’t stand, it’s when assholes go for the women. You just don't do that shit. Women, kids and pets are off limits.
“Some asshole?” Harlem stands next to me, Tag by his side, as intimidating as fuck. I’m just glad they waited for me until the real torture began. “Which asshole?”
“I swear I don’t know! I got out of that shithole the night you raided it, slipped away from the pigs, too. I’ve been layin’ low downtown because now that The Boss is gone, the rest of us?—”
“The rest of you?” Tag pokes a finger in his face. “There are more?”
“Y— yeah, a couple of us got out.”
“Gonna need that address,” Harlem barks. “Now!”
“I’m literally dead if I?—”
I snap another finger and he wails. “Not lookin’ good for you now, Oswald, better rethink your next answer if you ever wanna use those fingers again. Next I move to kneecaps.”
“No!”
He reels off some shithole downtown, and Cash sends a crew to check it out as I continue to circle him. “Not hearin’ anythin’ new, Oswald.”
“Mississippi,” he sputters. “Disciples.”
I frown. “Disciples? What is that, an MC?” I’ve never heard of them, but Bane, the MC Prez over there for the Ridgehaven Hellions MC, Mississippi, definitely will have.
“No— not an MC?—”
“Mafia?” I slap him again. “Spit it out, we haven’t got all day.”
“They’re wannabe gangsters, but not like the mafia.”
“White trash,” I hear Rock mutter from somewhere behind. “Too many trailer trash gangs all up the Mississippi border, stretchin’ into Alabama, then there’s the hoods.”
“Not hoods,” Oswald stammers. “Disciple Lords have been keepin’ a low profile for a while now, and tryin’ to move into Cut City territory, you just happened to get to us before they did.”
Cash comes closer, clearly this is news to him. We’ve got connections everywhere, including our allies, the Irish mafia right here in New Orleans. Big Papa who runs the underworld and knows every drug lord in town, including the Mexican Cartel, who still owe us a favor. But none of us were expecting this.
If Bane knew they were a threat to the MC, he would’ve been in contact. The Ridgehaven Hellions is located outside of Jackson, but the MC have a second clubhouse in a cigar shop they own called Cigar Haven so they keep on top of everything that’s going on with their arch rivals; the Jackson Skeletons MC.
I’m up in his face. “Anythin’ else you forgot to tell us?”
“No— I swear it.”
“Could’ve just said that in the beginin’,” I go on. “Would’ve saved a whole lotta angst, on your part.”
“W— what are you gonna do? I told you what I know!”
“You don’t expect us to just let you go?” Tag gruffs, arms folded over his chest. “Doesn’t work like that, asshole.”
“B— but?—”
“What’s all of this got to do with snoopin’ around my ol’ lady's house?” I don’t miss the arch eyebrows in tandem from Tag and Harlem, but choose to ignore it.
Ryder comes to stand next to me, nothing like intimidation tactics to get this piece of shit flapping his gums. He presses his lips together. “Think we’re gonna have to resort to more desperate measures.”
“Think you’re right,” I agree.
“No… no, wait!” Oswald protests.
I rough him by the scruff of the neck. “Last chance!”
“She was a person of interest, as all of the women of the MC are, they’re the weak point.”
Hearing his words makes my skin crawl. “What the fuck?”
“Gotta understand, The Boss wanted it that way,” Oswald goes on.
“But he’s dead,” Ryder says. “So who’s in charge now?”
“Nobody official, but those that got away want revenge,” he sputters.
“Includin’ you?” Harlem piques an eyebrow.
“No, I’m just one of the guards, nobody important. They won’t even miss me?—”
“That’s good then.” I smirk. “Looks like you just dug your own grave.”
“That’s not what I meant! I was doin’ what they told me to do. Watch the girl, track her movements.”
“So she can get snatched?” Tag barks. “That's how you get your kicks? Stalkin’ women and children to get back at us when they didn’t even do shit?”
For all of Tag’s grumpiness, he sure as shit has his priorities in order. We all know Oswald is a dead man, it’s just a matter of how much we can squeeze out of him.
“Wasn’t gonna touch her, or the kid!” he wails.
“The kid?” Ryder looks at me.
“Amber’s niece,” I tell him.
Ryder doesn’t even flinch, striking Oswald in the throat with one punch. “Fucker.”
Oswald chokes and gags, gasping for air. With his hands bound behind his back and his feet tied at the ankles, he’s got nowhere to go.
Harlem shakes his head. “Too bad you can’t learn your lessons in this life,” he says. “Never go after women and children.”
“End this now,” Cash barks, coming back into the warehouse. “I’ve heard enough of this shit.”
I step away for a second, moving toward Cash. “This makes no sense. Amber has nothin’ to do with any of this.”
“She’s attached to you.” Cash is seeing red, I can tell by the annoyed look on his face, and the way his head looks like it’s gonna explode. “That’s how.”
I palm the back of my neck. I didn’t exactly see it that way, but I just said out loud she was my ol’ lady. “I get that, but this just feels off.”
Cash grimaces. “Sent a crew to the location. If this asshole is tellin’ the truth then that’ll be that.”
“Too bad for them.”
“Damn straight.” Cash eyes our captive over my shoulder. “Don’t like this. Feels like we dropped the ball, but I’ll call Bane, find out what he knows.”
“They did a good job of keepin’ a low profile.”
I walk toward Oswald with Cash. “What do the Disciples have to do with any of this?” Cash demands.
“They’re the reason we attacked when we did and kidnapped that chick.” He’s referring to Audrina. “They want our turf. Apparently they made a deal with an MC in Mississippi, and that’s how they’re gettin’ so much traction so quickly, doin’ all their dirty work.”
“Bane’s gonna be thrilled. Big Papa won’t be happy about this either, or the Irish,” Ryder mutters.
“Fuck,” from Harlem.
“Can we cut him now?” Tag gripes. “I’m bored.”
Cash ignores them all. “That still doesn’t make sense why you and the other goons are stalkin’ the women of the MC. Are you workin’ both sides?”
Sheer terror crosses Oswald’s face. “What? No!”
“So we’re goin’ to believe all you want is revenge? You already tried that tact when one of our women was kidnapped,” Cash goes on. “So you thought you’d try again?”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Ryder murmurs. “Right, Oswald?”
“No… it’s not like that. I don’t know what the others had planned, but some of the guys who got away want revenge. They’ve been cooped up like caged animals for months?—”
“So instead of tryin’ to be a decent human bein’, you thought you’d go back to old tricks?” I spit. “This time you just shoot to kill, right?”
“I don’t know what they were plannin’, I was just told to track movements. I don’t know what the others were gonna do, but there was talk of joinin’ ranks with the Disciples, and with that…”
“With that what?” I grip his shirt again.
“Comes a sacrifice.”
My eyes widen. “A sacrifice?”
“To initiate into a gang sometimes requires a loyalty test,” Harlem says. “Killin’ someone important to your enemies is usually goal number one, and since we all know women and children are the biggest threat and weakness we have, that’s who they target.”
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Cash barks, pushing past the others. “You are fuckin’ done, asshole!”
“Wait! I didn’t say that’s what was gonna happen,” he garbles. “It’s just what I heard because some of the guys don’t know what the fuck to do now The Boss is dead. Disciples are hidin’ out, I don’t know where they’re based in New Orleans. I didn’t have shit to do with any of this. I was never gonna hurt her!”
Harlem and Tag hold Cash back. We’re not quite done with Oswald yet, and since I’ve declared Amber my ol’ lady to the boys, he’s mine to finish. That’s how shit around here works.
“You expect us to believe that?” I shake my head. “You were just stakin’ out a woman’s home with no intention to hurt her even though you just admitted some of the low life’s you hang out with struck a deal with the Disciples?”
The color drains from his face. “I didn’t?—”
“Save it.” Ryder turns to Cash. “He’s no use to us now, right boss?”
“Got it in one.” Cash smirks, his eyes shift to me. “Finish this.”
“Wait!” Oswald cries, but it’s too late for him.
I pull out my blade, gutting him like a fish as he squirms around. “Fuck you, and fuck anyone who comes near NOLA Rebels property.”
He garbles, his head dipping forward as he bleeds out. Well, he had to know he wasn’t gonna live; the plastic sheet beneath his feet should’ve been a dead giveaway.
“Sent the Nomad brothers to check shit out at the location, along with Jett, Rock, Hawk, Priest and Nevada,” Cash says. The Nomad brothers are Brew and Haze; members of the MC, but they also do their own thing from time to time. “If any of these shitheads are there, they’ll be sufferin’ a similar demise to Oswald here. In the meantime, let’s clean up and I’ll call Bane as soon as we get back to the clubhouse.”
“This shit fuckin’ stinks,” Tag grumbles. “Thought all this takedown crap was done when we wiped out the Cut City Boys the first time.”
“I guess we weren’t thorough enough.” Harlem palms the back of his neck. “That won’t happen again.”
I wipe my blade on Oswald's shirt. Goddamn piece of shit. My only regret here today is not drawing out his suffering longer. I could’ve, but the idea that the women and the kids are still being watched, had me acting fast so I could get back to Amber and check on Olive.
Cash may even call a lockdown depending on what happens with the raid at Oswald’s pal’s place. We still have to find the Disciples, but I’m sure it can’t be that hard. Not if the Ridgehaven Hellions have anything to do with it.