Chapter 15 Chaos #2
“Eyes on me, Willa.” Her gaze snaps to mine. “Nothing happened to me. I’m all right. Now I want you to go with Luna for a little bit while I take care of things with the guys. I’ll come and get you when I’m done.”
Luna stops at our side, and Willa flinches because she didn’t see her walking up. But I did. She’s been helping around the room, picking up and checking on everyone. When she spotted me talking to Willa, she paused.
Unlike Willa, Luna and Aimee come from this world. It’s why they’re walking around calmly tonight, immediately jumping into action, and helping where they can. It pisses me off that they’ve been through so much that they’re desensitized to this. They shouldn’t have to be.
“I’ll come get you soon.” I lean in, pressing my lips to Willa’s forehead. She smells like wildflowers blooming on the ranch in springtime. “Promise.”
She nods.
“I’m heading to Reagan’s house to check on her and Tempe. Are you up for a little trip?” Luna smiles, clearly trying to bury her own worries for Willa’s sake.
“Yes, I’m good.” Willa forces a smile and looks up at me a final time before turning to leave. “See you soon.”
My entire life, I’ve only thought of myself and my brothers. But as Willa walks away, part of me goes with her. The heart I forgot I have.
Soul turns the corner, his hands clenched at his sides. “You’re not going to fucking believe this. Feds.”
“Where?”
“At the front gate. They’re driving up the road now. We’ve got sixty seconds max before they’re at the front door.”
“Shit.” Steel storms into the room behind me. “How many?”
“One car.”
“Convenient timing. They must have been sitting around waiting for an excuse to breach. Guns away, everyone,” Steel shouts.
The guys tuck them into their holsters or carry them to their rooms, getting them out of sight.
All guns on the property are clean and registered to make sure we don’t end up in hot water if we’re unexpectedly raided.
Still, this many can get us into trouble if the Feds decide to be dicks about it.
Which is probably the case, considering they were circling the compound looking for a reason to drive through the gate tonight.
Patch bunnies clear out at the mention of the Feds. Aimee disappears down the hallway toward Havoc’s room, and I’m thankful Luna and Willa left out the side door in the kitchen, so they hopefully won’t cross paths with them.
Patch stays in the bar, tending to the guys who got hit, while I head to the front porch with Soul to deal with the Feds. We have enough heat on us without them targeting our president, so Steel hangs back, even though his grumble tells me it pisses him off to do so.
“Have I said lately how much I hate the fucking Feds?” Soul grumbles, stopping on the front porch just as their car rolls to a stop.
Asshole Number One climbs out first, brushing his short blond hair off his face to show off his smug smile. He walks ahead of Asshole Number Two, who hangs back by the car.
“Trouble tonight?” the blond asshole asks, trying to see around us and into the clubhouse. “We heard gunfire.”
“Is babysitting duty really that boring?” Soul’s eyebrow hitches. “You have to imagine a few fireworks are shots fired just to add a little fun to your evening?”
“You’re saying we didn’t hear gunshots?”
“I don’t know what the fuck you heard. I’m telling you what it was.” Soul pulls out a cigarette and leans against the railing, lighting it.
Smoke curls from his lips as he smiles, wearing a mask of calm like he’s good at.
I chuckle, grabbing a cigarette when he offers me one, trying to act casual, when every nerve in my body is fried. I want to fucking skin someone for what just happened, but the Feds can’t know that, or they’ll try to push inside.
“Fireworks,” Asshole One says loud enough for Asshole Two to hear him, and they both chuckle. “Guess you won’t mind if we take a look then?”
“You got a warrant?” I take a long drag, blowing smoke in his face so he takes a step back.
“Why would we need a warrant if you’re not hiding anything?”
I lean on the railing next to Soul, taking another drag of my cigarette and letting it calm me. It would be so easy to pull out my gun and plant a bullet between this asshole’s eyes, and it takes everything in me not to.
“Just covering your asses for you.” I shrug. “You know if you find something without a warrant, it won’t do shit for you in court. What a shame that would be.”
“Sounds like we’re doing you a favor, really.” Soul smiles, but there’s more malice behind it than anything else.
The Fed frowns, stepping back when Soul blows more cigarette smoke at him. They make it too easy.
He tries to see around us again, but the door is closed, and the guys know to be quiet right now.
“All right, I’ll be back with a warrant.” The Fed narrows his eyes. “But if I find anything that proves you’re lying to me right now, I’ll hold you personally responsible, Dean Graham.”
I hate when they call me by my fucking name.
“You thought I didn’t know who you are?” He smirks.
“I know who you all are, and I know just how much each of you has to lose. Maybe remind your president of that when you see him inside. Ask him how he’ll feel when he’s not there for the birth of his child.
When he has to watch his kids grow up from behind bars.
You know what it will be like in there for him, don’t you?
Been there already? It won’t be long before you’re back. ”
I stand tall, taking a drag of my cigarette because it’s all that’s keeping my feet on this porch and my hands to myself. Smoke curls around me, and I’m swimming in it. Anything to not catch a felony tonight.
“Have a good night, gentleman.” I force a smile that promises nothing good if they don’t leave.
“Don’t worry, we will.” They chuckle, climbing back into their car and leaving.
Dust plumes behind the tires as they take off down the road.
“Fucking Feds,” Soul grumbles, standing beside me and watching them go.
“Fucking Feds,” I repeat, taking another drag. But all I hear is what he said playing on a loop in my head.
“I know who you all are, and I know just how much each of you has to lose.”
A couple of weeks ago, I didn’t think I had anything to lose anymore. I made sure of it. Now, I’m not so sure.
Everything is brown.
The walls. The pews. The cross.
Even the flowers are a strange shade of red that edges on chocolate.
They spill over the sides of Mom’s casket, and I wonder, what’s the point? It’s not like there’s any way to dress this up.
She’s dead.
There’s nothing pretty about that.
My brother sits at my side, shifting in his seat. Every time a tear falls, he wipes it away, like he doesn’t want to be caught crying. What I wouldn’t give for one single tear. For something to cut through this numbness crawling through me.
It started in my hands.
No, actually, it started in my toes. Slowly working its way up like I was being dipped in grief. And now, I can’t feel anything except this hard thrum between my temples. A blinding jackhammer, ringing in my mind, muting anything the priest says.
A priest.
It’s almost laughable.
Mom didn’t go to church; she didn’t really believe in anything. The cross hanging over her now feels more like judgment than salvation.
They say people find peace in death, but there’s no peace here.
She’ll never have another dinner with the family.
She’ll never see my brother’s and my graduations.
She’s just gone.
Something knocks my leg, and I look down to see Willa’s knee pressed up to mine. Her parents are sitting farther down the row by Tate. Her fingers inch closer to mine, brushing my pinky ever so slightly where it sits on the seat beside me.
But I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything.
Our stares connect, and at least her eyes are gray and not brown. Stormy like my chest is right now. Brewing with anger. Resentment.
Willa stares at me so long I almost forget where I am. But then the funeral ends, and Willa drifts away with everything else until it’s just me and my mother’s brown casket. So I say goodbye to the only person who saw me for who I really am.