24
STORM
I sat at the head of the meeting table and digested Grizzly’s findings in Scornrock. I’d been waiting all fuckin’ day for him and Libby to get home.
Time seemed to stop while I waited for them. Like I’d been watching a pot of water, waiting for it to boil, but it never did. Not that I’d watched many pots in my nearly thirty-five years of living.
Yeah, I wasn’t the most patient person, except for when it had to do with my Angel and kids.
“So, RJ is Rocky Jones?” I asked Grizzly. “The last name isn’t familiar to me.” But then, the Knight’s Legion MC had made a lot of enemies over the decades. I was confident I would have recalled the name Jones as it was a common surname.
RJ had targeted us specifically, which led me to believe it was personal. My cousin in Fargo, North Dakota hadn’t gotten anything. It had only been me who had been contacted and my old man’s clubhouse had been bombed.
“It makes sense when you put the pieces together.”
I leveled my gaze at Grizzly. “I’m listening.”
“Well, the letter came after Cobra’s men went to Scornrock and torched the Hells Bells bar. Remember when Buff rescued his long lost love, Reign?”
I nodded, showing my growing interest.
“She’d been held captive by Keg, the now dead president.
His nephew, Rocky Jones, was next in line.
But the dude ran off, leaving his girl, Ellassandra.
She said he promised to return. She believes he will, and I believe her.
They were young and in love, but he left fearing for his life.
We know someone was in the car with Keg when it crashed.
I think it was Rocky Jones, aka RJ.” Grizzly shrugged like all he’d said was possible.
I clasped my hands together on the table and squeezed. My jaw tightened and tension filled my neck and shoulders. Listening to Grizzly unpack his thoughts painted one helluva picture.
“He could be building a new crew,” I muttered. “To go to war with us.”
“That’s what I’d do,” Grizzly replied. “There’s only a handful of members left in Scornrock. We could take them out blindfolded, with one hand behind our backs.”
I nodded, considering his words. “How old is he?”
“Maybe twenty or twenty-one. Libby couldn’t get a specific age, but she thinks Ella and him are a few years apart. Ella’s eighteen or nineteen.”
I didn’t really care about their ages, but I was glad to hear how young they were. Young meant inexperienced. Gullible. Easy to manipulate.
“Good work. Going forward, I want Libby to continue rebuilding her relationship with her sister.”
“She won’t mind doing that. She wants her sister in her life.”
“Good. But I also want her to get close to Ella. Like real close, like an older sister since the girl seems to be alone.” The young mom was my ticket to my half sister’s killer.
As long as we had RJ’s girl and his baby in our clutches, we’d eventually catch him. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long.
“How’s it supposed to work?” Grizzly asked. “I mean, we live in Minnesota. I’m needed here.”
“Right. I don’t mean move there. That would be over the top and might draw attention to you and Libby. Visit her sister like a normal family would do.”
“I don’t know what a normal family does.”
I scratched my beard. “Yeah, me either. Nothing was normal in my family.”
“And you know about my fucked-up childhood.”
I did and his was a million times worse than mine. The day my uncle Matt found Grizzly rummaging through the trashcan behind The Bullet was a day I’d never forget…
“Storm! Track! Raul!” Uncle Matt hollered from inside the clubhouse bar.
I looked at the triple stacked sandwich one of the Kittens had made me and cursed my life. My uncle’s timing was the worst.
My stomach rumbled, screaming at me to devour the mouthwatering lunch in front of me. I was always starving after lifting weights out in the garage. I needed sustenance. To refuel so I could make it through the rest of my day, and have enough energy for some pussy tonight.
“Where is everyone? Get your asses in here!” he yelled louder, sounding angrier.
Well, I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave my food on the table for one of my MC brothers to steal. I collected the plate and my bottle of water, and stalked toward all the hollering.
“What’s up?” Track asked me as we met at the entrance of the bar.
“No idea, but it sounds serious.”
“Everything is serious with your uncle.” Track snorted.
“Excuse me?” Raul grabbed his son by the neck and shook him. “It’s prez to you, pendejo.”
I grinned wide at Track. It cracked me up how his dad called him stupid in Spanish. It sounded better and more rough. Or maybe it was Raul’s husky, scratchy voice.
“You need to know your place in the club. Understand?” Raul hissed through his clenched teeth at Track.
Damn, he even intimidated me a little. No, not really. Nobody scared me.
“Yeah, I understand,” Track replied. That right there was one of the many differences between me and Track. He respected his father and his authority. I hated mine and was glad he’d sent me away to live with my Uncle Matt.
“Show your president the respect he deserves. You get me?” Raul asked his son.
“Yeah, I get you.” Track pulled out of his dad’s grasp. “Do you have to squeeze so hard?”
Raul shook his head and went into the bar.
“Your old man doesn’t mess around, ese,” I told him, nudging my elbow into his side. “Gotta be careful what you say when he’s in earshot.”
“Watch it, or I’ll take your sandwich.”
“Try and see what happens.” I puffed my chest out and lunged toward him. He flinched back, of course. I was bigger and stronger, and not very forgiving. If anyone salivated over my food or stole it, they would be met with my fist in their face.
“About fucking time!” Matt sneered at us. “Took you all forever to get in here. This is Brent.”
Track and I screwed up our faces and glanced at each other. The dude was filthy and smelled like a wet dog. Probably homeless. Probably not all there mentally. How could he have been? He looked like he’d just come out of living in a dumpster.
“I have a job for the three of you,” Uncle Matt said. “And I don’t want to hear any shit about it. Just do it, no questions asked.”
“What job?” I asked, ignoring my uncle’s command to not ask questions.
“Christ, Storm.” Uncle Matt shot me a deadly look. “Be a fuckin’ example, will you?”
“Next time I will.” But probably not.
After spending a term in the Marines, I didn’t take orders very well. I’d been yelled at enough to last me a lifetime. Lucky for me, my uncle was a lot more forgiving and understanding than me.
Noticing the guy staring at my sandwich, I held out the plate and handed it to him. I felt a little bad for him. What kind of hell had he been through? Giving him my food would be my one good deed for the century.
He scarfed it down in like four bites.
“After Brent cleans up, you’re going to take him to clean up the house fire he started so it’s not traced back to him.” Uncle Matt, er, um, Prez scratched under his nose.
Yeah, he couldn’t stand smelling the dude either. He just hid it better than the rest of us.
“Any casualties?” I asked, again, disregarding my uncle’s command.
“Only two, he thinks,” my uncle replied.
“My foster parents,” the dude muttered. “In their bed.”
Fuck. Immediately, my mind went to abuse—of the worst kind. Most people didn’t murder someone without a good reason. Or they were mentally insane. Something told me this young guy had all his marbles.
“Don’t worry, man,” I told him, handing my bottle of water to him. “I’ve got your back.”
A throat clearing pulled me back to the present. “Everything okay?” Grizzly asked.
“Yeah. Just zoned out.” I exhaled a deep breath. “Don’t mean to be a nosey bitch, but did you sort out your relationship with the other two?”
My Angel had been nagging the shit out of me to find out about Toby, Grizzly, and Libby. Figured I might as well ask while we’re alone.
“We want to be together, but I guess he’s going to Canada.”
“Sorry about that. Ciro asked and I hooked them up.” I was still strengthening the club’s relationship with the Remotti family. They were powerful and had a lot of connections in Canada and on the West Coast. One day, they could come in useful so I’d mentioned Toby to Ciro.
“It’s fine.”
“Dude, I can see that it’s not.” Shit, I had a feeling I had jumped the gun too quickly, and should’ve asked Grizzly about the job first. But I couldn’t do anything about it now.
“Maybe we’re not meant to be together all the time.”
Jesus, I didn’t want to have this conversation, but I wouldn’t shut Grizzly down. He hardly talked as it was, so I had to let him talk now.
“You had to know Toby wouldn’t stay put. He’s a nomad. He gets antsy when he’s in one place for too long.”
“I know.” He scrubbed his hands against his cheeks. Deep grooves appeared on his forehead, showing he was stressed. “I think I’m going to claim Libby and marry her.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really? What about Toby?”
“We’ll have an open marriage. He can be our lover when he comes to town. Libby could go out with him. I’d do the same. The three of us… well, you know.”
Okay, TMI. I didn’t want to think of the three of them together. It just wasn’t my thing. I could never be with a guy and I sure as fuck wouldn’t let my Angel have a lover on the side. I’d set the goddamn world on fire before I let that happen.
But, to each his own. I didn’t judge. All I wanted was for Grizzly and the others to be happy, however they wanted.
“I fully support whatever you want to do. When do you think you’ll make the announcement?” I asked.
“I guess, Friday, karaoke night. Toby will be back from Canada tomorrow. That’ll give us a couple of days to get on the same page.”
“Sounds good to me.” I stood, ready for this conversation to be over. “If you need anything let me know.”
“Yeah. Appreciate it.” He collected his laptop and left, leaving me alone in the meeting room. Alone to breathe and clear my head.
At the forefront of my mind was Rocky Jones. I wanted him found so I could deal with him myself. Make him hurt and end his life at a young age just like he did Megan’s.
Retribution pumped through my veins. I wouldn’t know a moments peace until Rocky Jones was six feet under.