Chapter 2
Leslee
“The drugs. She’ll be back for them, won’t she?”
“I doubt they belong to her, but someone will come looking for them. If they find her first, there’s no doubt that she’ll point her finger at us.” Dad swipes his hand through his hair, and I notice that the scar on his face has gone red.
“Tell me what’s happening, Dad. I’m not a kid anymore,” I demand the truth from him.
“We’re going to move the families into the clubhouse until we get a handle on who that bag belongs to. Your mom and Xander are heading there now,” he replies, looking down at the time on his phone. “Some of the guys are coming out here to sweep the house, after we’ve done that, you and I will head back.”
“And Mungo and Trinity?”
“People are out looking for them. Uh, Royce’s family will be at the clubhouse, also.” Dad looks away, but not before I see him trying to control his face.
I can’t help but grimace at that. Royce and Molly have two sets of twin boys, but they look so much alike that we all tease them about being quadruplets. Two of them, I make it a point to pretend I don’t know which ones they are, follow me around at all the family parties. They’re like overgrown mutts with drool dripping down their chins.
“I should have let her leave with the damn bag,” I mumble, looking up at Dad when he makes a choking sound, not even trying to hide his grin anymore. “It’s not funny.”
Knowing how annoying I find my fan club, he holds up his hand; his thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart.
“I’ll go look for those gloves,” he says, reverting back to the earlier topic. “Don’t touch anything, God only knows if there are needles lying around.”
I shudder at the thought, but decide to start with the fridge. If they’ve been here any length of time, I’m sure that’ll need to be sorted out especially if this place will sit empty for a time.
A while after I get the fridge cleaned out and have the dishwasher running, we hear the roar of bikes approaching. My eyes widen and almost without thinking, I spin and duck into the pantry, closing the door for cover.
As the bikes pull up, Dad gives me the okay to come out and I’m soon swept up in my Uncle Connal’s arms.
“You alright, Le-Lee?” he asks, as the others crowd around us.
“I got us into this mess,” I answer, looking at each of them as Dad clicks his tongue, sounding annoyed. “I’m sorry.”
“Trinity brought this to our doorstep, Leslee,” Shade interjects, reaching a hand over to squeeze my shoulder. “Not you.”
“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, then make sure there aren’t any surprises left around here,” Jasper interrupts us, pointing between Shade and Heat to check the bedrooms. “Lock will do a full inspection and secure the place, then he’ll get you back to the clubhouse.”
Jasper’s oldest son, Chris—also known as Lock, is standing in the doorway, having immediately started to work on the new lock for the front door. I cross to join him, having grown up together, he quickly puts me to work holding the new mechanisms in place while he secures them.
“Did I hear that Trinity jumped out of a window?” he asks me, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Sadly, no,” I deadpan and he chuckles, knowing my feelings about her. “She tossed the bag out of the window before Dad saw it. I’m sure she thought she could double back for it.”
“Now, see that version of the story makes more sense,” he says, tightening the final screw and shoving the old locks to the side and pointing to a small tool bag. “Grab that for me, will you?”
“What did you hear?”
Lock, after a few too many run-ins with the sheriff, decided to capitalize on one of his skills and became a certified locksmith. As his closest competition is a few towns over, his business immediately took off and he invested his earnings in a van large enough that he was able to save the expense of a storefront.
“I was hanging out with Danny when Anvil told me Dad needed me to get to work, but his version had Trinity jumping out of the window and landing near you. Danny and I started cracking up, knowing you’d finish that bitch off if fate gave you an opportunity like that.”
I can’t help the smirk that crosses my face, happy that my childhood reputation hasn’t faded with time. Although, in fairness, I haven’t killed anything.
“Chris?” I utter his given name so softly, watching him tighten some screws on the old window lock we had moved over to.
“Yeah, kiddo?” he responds, his heavy exhale telling me that he knows what I want to ask him.
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” I say, turning on my heel and walking over to check the other window.
“He’ll be back. His dues are current and he checks in with my dad every month.”
I nod, wiping my eyes as I move to the next room, pretending to know what I’m doing as I inspect that window; I don’t say anything else. Because how fucking pathetic is it that I’m still hung up on that asshole?
Four years and thirty-seven postcards later, yet not a word exchanged with the man who rode away.
“Help me out with the sliders, why don’tcha? Those are the weak points around here.” Lock continues on as I rejoin him in the hallway.
God love him, I think, as he takes the lead. He’s a good-looking man, laid back, and kind. Lock and I would fit like a glove, if the deck wasn’t stacked against us. Thankfully, neither of us is pining for the other—because who the hell wants to be stuck in a love triangle?
Dad and Jasper exchange a glance when we reenter the main room, but since everyone’s gone silent all of sudden, I know they’re still discussing the elephant in the room.
“Just pretend I’m deaf,” I say as I follow Lock to the slider near the dinner table.
“Yeah, it’s not like she’s the one who found the huge bag of drugs, or anything,” Lock’s tone is decidedly snarky. “So, keep her in the dark as long as possible.”
“Damn, last time I do that, if this is how I’m going to be treated,” I insert, sharing a big smile with him as I try my best to sound like a petulant teen and not the adult I’ve been trying to prove that I am.
Jasper slaps his hand down on the counter.
“This isn’t a fucking joke, kids,” he snarls at us in a tone I’ve never heard from him before. “A shipment that size doesn’t go missing all at once without a serious crew looking for it. Right now, until I have word we’ve picked up Trinity, we have to assume she’s going to point her finger at Leslee. This isn’t a matter of lockdown at the clubhouse, Chris, we have to figure out where the fuck we can hide Leslee until it’s settled.”
“Daddy?” One look at him and I can feel the blood leaving my face. Jasper’s serious and I can see that my father is on board with the decision. “Dad, I didn’t mean to cause this.”
“Look at where she chose to hide out, Le-Lee.” Uncle Connal’s voice is deceptively calm. “This was going to blow back on us regardless. If you hadn’t snatched the bag, we wouldn’t have known what was coming.”
“You two finish up,” Jasper commands, although he’s taken his tone down a couple of notches, the wave he gives in the general direct of the slider looks like a king signaling his decision. “Lock, I want you to ride Gunner’s bike back. Leslee, you and your dad will ride in the van.”
Lock shrugs off the ruse that he needs my help and is all business as he adds bars to the final door. But everyone in this room knows that if someone wants to come inside, they’re gonna break the glass.
“Come on, angel.” The authoritative tone of Dad’s voice is the one that no one argues with.
Except me.
Honestly, someone has to keep the big goon on his toes when Mom’s not around.
I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth before heading to the fridge to grab a couple of pops, then to the pantry. When I had closed myself in there earlier, I had noticed a few bags of snacks, so I grab one and stick the bag in between my teeth to keep from crushing the contents to bits.
“Wehdy,” I push the word out through my clenched teeth as I head to the door.
Hearing the guys chuckle, my eyes shift to the mirror next to the door in time to catch Dad holding his hands up like he’s about to strangle me. I step to the side, and tilt my head, showing my annoyance that he hasn’t opened the door for me yet.
“Brat,” he mutters, softening the word with a wink.
“Ov ewe, too,” I reply through my closed teeth just before he grabs the bag from my mouth.
*
Getting to the clubhouse, Dad parks around back and I instantly head inside to see what the kitchen holds today. Having only had ice cream and chips, I’m in need of some real sustenance before I get shipped off.
“Leslee!” Mom squeals as she stands up from peeking through the glass on the stove.
“Oh, thank God you’re cooking! I’m starving,” I exclaim, ignoring the worried look on her face as she wraps her arms around me. “And Dad’s stomach sounded like an earthquake.”
“Are you alright?”
“Of course, how long do you think before they’ll let me come back?” I ask her, leaning back from her arms when I feel her sharp intact of breath; belatedly realizing that she didn’t know about the decision to send me away.
“I thought we could talk this out together,” Dad says from behind me, his eyes locked on Mom’s face.
“Is there any possibility that I can stay without others being in danger?” I look between them, wondering about the silent conversation that they’re having.
“It might not be safe for you here, baby,” Mom whispers, her eyes filling with tears as she pieces together Jasper and Dad’s plan. “Not until this is settled.”
“But I didn’t do anything. It’s not like I kept or tried to sell the stash,” I exclaim, confused by everyone’s logic. “We have it now. We give it back.”
“Gunner, can’t we wait until you have more information? I mean it shouldn’t be that hard to track down Trinity,” Mom pleads with Dad, pressing her lips together when Royce enters the room.
“Riley! Leslee, I feel terrible about this.” Molly rushes in behind him, circumventing her Ol’ Man so he ends up on her heels as she joins our hug.
“You can’t take responsibility for her actions, sugar,” Royce interjects, dragging his hand through his hair. “Gunner, what do you need me to do?”
As the two of them exit the kitchen, Mom reassures Molly that Trinity is a grown ass adult who’s been given every opportunity to do the right thing, but never has.
Maybe I’m paraphrasing that a bit.
“Did I hear she jumped out of a window?” As I’m standing with my back to the entranceway, Betsy’s soft voice startles me.
“Unfortunately, not,” I mutter without thinking. Mom lets out a soft hiss, her eyes darting between Molly and me.
Molly’s bark of laughter cuts off my apology. “Leslee would have finished her off if she had.”
“Why do people keep saying that?” I ask, throwing my hands up in the air.
Mom presses her lips together like she always does when she’s trying not to laugh at something naughty Xander or I have done, but that goes out the window when her eyes meet Molly’s.
I start to turn to Betsy for help, until her laughter reaches me also.
“Let me know when the food’s ready.” Letting out a sigh, I leave the three of them in the kitchen to go track down my brother. Damn, of the two of us, I always figured he’d be accused of murder way before me.
Turning away from the main room, I catch sight of Xander leaning up against a wall further along the hallway, but stop myself before I call his name. When I get close to him, he turns his head, looking at me unblinking and keeping his lips pressed together. I nod, understanding his silent message, and tuck myself behind him, just as eager as he is to hear what Dad and Royce are talking about.
They have someone on speakerphone and all I can really make out is the word ‘cartel’ and that Trinity and Mungo have not been located. Just then, my phone pings and we both jump as Royce starts swearing.
“Dammit, Xander!” Dad growls, not having seen me. “Get over here.”
My brother pushes me back as he steps around the corner, protecting me from their ire. Just as I’m turning to escape back the way I had come, I catch a movement from the corner of my eye.
Flint is ten feet behind me, blocking the hallway with his arms crossed over his chest. At the look he gives me, I freeze until something changes in his eyes, then he motions me past him and goes to join the others, never mentioning my presence.
I scurry back to the kitchen, just grateful for the gift of his silence.