Chapter 18
18
Robyn
“ D ammit, Samson!” I snarl and yank myself out of his grip. “You’re way out of line!”
“And you’re just a smidge safer,” he says, nervously peeking through the back door screen.
Knox, Diesel, and Jagger come down the stairs. I catch a glimpse of Marlo and of club members leaving the clubhouse in heavy, uncomfortable silence. I’m getting angry.
“Okay, you need to talk to me, Samson, right now!”
“Give it a second,” he mutters and checks his phone, then replies to a message. A split second later, I hear a motorcycle engine rumbling louder as it comes around the building.
Paulie drives his Harley all the way to the back door, then turns the engine off. There’s a spare helmet strapped to his passenger seat, and my stomach churns as I realize what’s about to happen. I turn to Samson, choosing to ignore Paulie altogether.
“The truth, now, or I will never speak to you ever again. Don’t test me.”
He gives me a weary look, running his fingers through his thinning, silvery hair. “I was hoping Knox might tell you what you need to know, but this Marlo visit… it wasn’t expected. There’s been a shift somewhere.”
“You’re not making much sense.”
“Did they tell you about the DEA and the drug bust?”
My blood runs cold as I shake my head slowly. “No…”
“Oh, fuck. They’re gonna kick my teeth in for this—”
“Samson!”
“Alright! Alright. I’ll tell you.” He groans with frustration. “There was a drug bust a couple of weeks back. Two dudes tried to haul seventy kilos of heroin across the state border from California. The DEA were tipped off and picked the fuckers up. One of them was wearing a Rogue Riders vest with all the right patches.”
“What?”
He nods once. “We said the same, trust me. He wasn’t one of ours. We checked and double-checked. Nothing out of the ordinary has popped up so far.”
“And Calvin?” I ask. “He was a Rider, and he’s got a big bone to pick with the club.”
“True, but we burned his vest when we kicked him out.”
“Maybe somebody had a vest made solely for this to pin the blame on the club,” I say, not wanting to believe that all of Knox, Diesel, and Jagger’s hard work could have so easily gone down the drain.
Samson sighs deeply, his shoulders dropping slightly. “It’s an original vest. None of our members are missing a vest or any patches. We haven’t figured out what’s going on, though. We do know that the guy who got caught is definitely not a Rider. But the DEA is still circling around like vultures. And now Marlo’s making a comeback on the drug scene.”
“I don’t think anyone is shocked by that.”
“She’s connected to the whole DEA incident, though. We know the original vest was supplied by one of her guys.”
Dread takes over, making my whole body feel stiff. I doubt I can stand for much longer. I’m getting queasy, and it’s not just from the pregnancy. It’s the shock and horror of how much they’ve been keeping from me—the very men who asked me to trust them, who promised me they would protect me.
“Marlo’s gunning for the Riders then,” I breathe. “And Calvin is working with her. Samson, do you understand what this means?”
“We’re getting ready for war, I guess,” he admits. “But we can’t prove much, and we can’t go to war against Marlo without evidence, certainly not with the DEA breathing down our necks. They’re determined to take us down. But Robyn, I assure you, they’re not gonna succeed. What they have is circumstantial at best. Any decent lawyer could get the charges dropped if it gets to that point.”
“It should have never gotten to this point!”
“Robyn, I need you to take a deep breath,” Samson says, quick to pick up on my distress. He takes me by the shoulders and gives me a firm shake—just enough to make me focus my attention entirely on him. “Listen to me. You’re safe. Kyra is safe. Nothing’s gonna happen to you. We’re all here, okay? You’re not gonna be left on your own.”
“Marlo, Calvin, and the DEA are gunning for the club. How the hell do you expect me to just sit back while everything you’ve been building up to is about to go up in smoke?”
“Nothing’s going up in smoke. Not yet anyway. We’re gonna work this out,” he insists.
I want to believe him, but the doubt I’ve been nursing in the back of my head ever since I saw Calvin outside the nail salon has suddenly grown bigger and harder to ignore. It’s gnawing at my resolve to the point where I no longer feel safe in Redwood, not even with Jagger, Knox, and Diesel by my side.
“What if the DEA succeeds and they arrest them?” I ask Samson.
“They’ll be out in a couple of days, tops. We’ve got good lawyers for precisely this type of situation,” he assures me.
“And what about Kyra and me? You know Calvin’s going to come for us.”
“What did I just say to you? We’ve got you, Robyn. All of us.”
I don’t want anyone to get hurt—or worse, killed—on my account, and I can’t sit back and let my daughter potentially get caught up in the shitstorm headed our way.
Shaking my head again, I take a couple of steps back.
Samson gives me a hard look. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t back away like that. You’re not alone in this, Robyn.”
Paulie cuts in. “Guys, we gotta go. Marlo’s got more people coming. I saw their cars on the way in.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“She’s got people coming for no other reason but to show off her strength. She picked tonight because her scouts probably told her the club wouldn’t be packed. I reckon she wants to rope us back into the business.”
“I will knock her head clean off her shoulders if she—” Furious as hell and definitely not thinking clearly, I attempt to go back inside and put my words into action, but Samson pulls me away and forcibly escorts me to Paulie and his motorcycle.
“You’ll put that helmet on,” he snarls, prompting me to shut my mouth. “You will let Paulie take you home. You will keep your daughter close, and your doors and windows locked until you hear from Knox or Diesel or Jagger. You hear me?”
I nod, my eyes wide. “I hear you.”
“Paulie’s gonna keep an eye on you, and I will send over a couple more guys to assist him just in case. Whatever Marlo and Calvin are brewing, they won’t be able to come near you. That’s my guarantee.”
“What about Knox and the guys?” I ask.
“They’ve got this covered,” Samson replies. “They’re just gonna listen to what Marlo has to say. She’ll make them an offer, they’ll turn her down, and things are gonna go downhill from there most likely until we’re able to prove that she did, in fact, try to frame us for that drug run.”
I shudder to the core, terrified by the potential repercussions. “My God, Samson, this is a nightmare.”
“It could be a lot worse. Now, go home,” he says. “Let the boys handle this.”
I could object, but I see the sense in his decision. He’s right. I need to be with Kyra right now.