Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
storm
The smell of whiskey, weed, and leather fills the air of the clubhouse as I lean against the bar, watching the brothers enjoy their Friday night. Shadow's busy playing pool with Digger, both men arguing over a shot that may or may not have been legal. Same shit, different day.
"Another?" Cruz asks, holding up a bottle of Jack.
I nod, pushing my empty glass toward him. "Keep 'em coming."
He refills my glass with a knowing smirk. "Rough day?"
"Just the usual," I reply, taking a swig. The liquor burns a familiar path down my throat, settling warm in my gut. "Nothing I can't handle."
The truth is, the day's been a fucking nightmare. A deal with one of our suppliers went south, and I spent most of the afternoon cleaning up the mess. Being an enforcer for the Fury Vipers means I'm one of the brothers they call when shit hits the fan. Today, it hit hard.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, not recognizing the number flashing on the screen. Normally, I'd ignore it, but something tells me to answer.
"Yeah?" I say, pressing the phone to my ear as I move toward a quieter corner of the room.
"Storm? It's Blaze."
I straighten up at the sound of our newest prospect's voice. "Blaze? The fuck you calling me for?"
There's a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is tight with barely controlled anger. "I need help. It's my sister."
That gets my attention. I've never met Blaze's sister, but I've heard about her. Camryn Fletcher. Single mom. Works at some fancy office downtown. She keeps her distance from the club, which is why I've never laid eyes on her despite Blaze prospecting for nearly a year now.
"What about her?" I ask, moving further away from the noise.
"She's in trouble. Her daughter's father showed up today after years of being gone. He's threatening to take the kid."
"And that's my problem because?" I ask, even though I'm already mentally cataloging what I know about custody disputes. Not much, admittedly, but enough to know they're usually messy as fuck.
"Because the guy's dangerous," Blaze says, his voice dropping. "He... he hurt her. Bad. Years ago. That's how she got pregnant."
My blood runs cold. I don't need him to elaborate. The implication is clear enough, and it makes my jaw clench so tight my teeth might crack.
"She called me tonight," he continues. "I wanted to go over there, but she said to wait till tomorrow. The kid's asleep, and she doesn't want to scare her. But I can't just sit around knowing this fucker's out there somewhere, watching her house."
"What do you want me to do about it?" I ask, even though I already know. I can hear it in his voice. He needs backup, and for whatever reason, he's calling me instead of one of the other brothers.
"I need your help," Blaze admits. "You're the best at handling these kinds of situations. The guys respect you. If you're involved, they'll take it seriously."
That's true enough. The brothers listen when I talk. Still, this isn't club business.
"Why me?" I ask. "Why not go to Ace or Digger?"
There's a pause. "Because the other brothers, they’ve got kids; they’ve got ol’ ladies. You, Storm, you’ll be focused on Cam and Emily. You just get shit done. And right now, my sister needs someone who can get shit done without making it complicated."
I take another swig of my drink, considering. This isn't my problem. I don't even know this woman. But I do know what it's like to feel helpless, to need protection and have nowhere to turn.
"Please," Blaze says when I don't immediately respond. "She's all I’ve got left as far as real family goes."
Fuck. I run a hand through my hair, already knowing I'm gonna regret this. "Fine. Let me finish my drink. I'll meet you outside in ten."
"Thanks, man. I owe you."
"Yeah, you fucking do," I mutter, ending the call.
I down the rest of my whiskey in one gulp, the burn doing nothing to cool the anger starting to simmer in my veins. I fucking hate men who prey on women, especially young ones. It's a special kind of cowardice that makes my trigger finger itch.
"Trouble?" Shadow asks, appearing beside me. Despite his size, the man moves like a fucking ghost sometimes.
"Nothing I can't handle," I say, setting down my empty glass. "Just helping out our prospect with a personal matter."
Shadow's eyes narrow. He knows me too well. "What kind of personal matter?"
"The kind that's got nothing to do with you," I reply, more sharply than intended.
He holds up his hands. "Just asking, brother."
I sigh, regretting my tone. "Sorry. It's Blaze's sister. She's having problems with her kid's father. He wants to take the girl."
"And you're involved because...?"
"Because Blaze asked," I say simply. "And because the guy sounds like a real piece of shit."
Understanding dawns on Shadow's face. "Need backup?"
I shake my head. "Not yet. Gotta assess the situation first."
"Alright," he says, clapping me on the shoulder. "But you call if you need anything. We got your back."
"I know," I say, grateful for the reminder even though I'd never admit it.
Outside, the air is cool against my skin; a welcome relief from the stuffy clubhouse. Storm clouds are still out, the thunder and lightning over for now, but with those clouds above me, there’s a promise for more. Fitting, given my mood.
Blaze is waiting by his bike, looking younger than his twenty-two years with worry etched across his face. The prospect's been working hard to earn his place in the club, but right now, he just looks like a kid scared for his sister.
"Tell me everything," I say, skipping the pleasantries.
He runs a hand over his short, cropped hair. "There's not much more to tell. Camryn ran into Eric, that's her daughter's father, at the grocery store today. He threatened to take Emily and said he'd been watching them. He knows where they live and what the kid looks like."
"He made a formal custody claim yet?" I ask.
Blaze shakes his head. "Not that I know of. But Cam's freaked out. She said he's been watching the house."
"She call the cops?"
A bitter laugh escapes him. "Cops didn't believe her eight years ago when the asshole raped her. Why would they believe her now?"
The word hangs in the air between us, ugly and raw. I roll my shoulders, trying to ease the tension building there.
"So what's the play here?" I ask. "You want me to scare this guy off? Make him disappear?"
"I want him gone," Blaze says firmly. "But Cam... she just wants to feel safe. She's spent the last eight years building a life for herself and Emily. She's got a good job, a nice little house. The kid's happy and doing well in school. She doesn't want to run again."
"Again?"
Blaze sighs. "After it happened, after she found out she was pregnant, she left town for a while. She came back after Emily was born, but she was always looking over her shoulder. It took years for her to stop jumping at every sound."
I nod, understanding that kind of fear all too well. "And now he's back."
"Yeah," Blaze says, his voice tight. "Now he's back."
I consider our options. This isn't official club business, not yet anyway. But if this Eric guy is as dangerous as Blaze says, it could become club business real quick. Especially if he's stupid enough to make trouble on our turf.
"We need a plan," I say finally. "Can't just go in guns blazing, not when there's a kid involved."
Relief washes over Blaze's face. "So you'll help?"
"I'll talk to her," I concede. "See what she wants to do. But I'm not promising anything beyond that until I get a better read on the situation."
"That's all I'm asking," he says. "Just talk to her. She's smart and knows what she wants. But she needs to know she's got options."
"Everyone's got options," I say. "Some are just better than others."
A distant rumble of thunder punctuates my words. The storm's coming again.
"I'll meet you at her place tomorrow morning," I tell him. "Text me the address."
"Thanks, Storm. Seriously."
I wave off his gratitude. "Don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything."
As Blaze roars off on his bike, I stand in the parking lot and watch the storm clouds gather.
I'm not sure why I agreed to help. Maybe it's because I respect Blaze and see potential in him as a prospect.
Maybe it's because I understand what it's like to feel hunted, to need protection.
Or maybe it's just because I've got a soft spot for kids caught in the middle of adult bullshit. When I was younger, Shadow and his family lived next door to us in the trailer. He and his sister were abused, and my ma would take them in, feed them, and watch overt hem. Then his mom beat his sister to death and Shadow came to live with us full time. I watched how it wrecked Shadow’s world.
My brothers and I saw the devastation it wrought.
Whatever the reason, I'm involved now. And once I commit to something, I see it through to the end, no matter how messy it gets.
Another thunderclap sounds, closer this time. The storm's almost here. I head back inside. I should get some sleep if I'm gonna be dealing with this situation tomorrow. But sleep doesn't come easy these days, not with the weight of club business and my own demons keeping me company in the dark.
Instead, I find myself thinking about a woman I've never met, wondering what kind of strength it takes to raise a child born from violence, to build a life despite that kind of trauma.
Blaze has mentioned his sister before, always with pride in his voice; said she's stubborn as hell and won't take help even when she needs it.
Sounds like the kind of woman who'd rather stand her ground than run. I can respect that. But standing your ground sometimes means you need someone at your back.
For whatever reason, that someone is gonna be me.
I turn the thought over in my mind as I lie in my bed at the clubhouse, listening to the storm rage outside. Thunder crashes, and lightning illuminates my room in brief, harsh flashes. It's going to be a long night.
Tomorrow, I'll meet Camryn Fletcher and figure out exactly what I've gotten myself into. For now, I'll try to quiet the rage already building inside me at the thought of some asshole thinking he has the right to terrorize a woman and take her child.
Some men deserve whatever hell comes their way. From what I've heard, this Eric guy is one of them. And if there's one thing I'm good at, it's delivering hell to those who've earned it.
Thunder growls again, like an echo to my thoughts. The storm's here.
And so am I.