Chapter Thirty-Nine
Indie
Johnny banged on the door, letting us know it was time to go. King had already called to make sure we were coming back today. His patience had grown thin where Mimic was concerned. Especially since Mimic had turned his phone off.
I wasn’t worried. Like I’d told Mimic before, King was a good man.
There was no doubt in my mind he would listen to Mimic’s story and understand.
Sure, he might want to beat the shit out of him for being stupid and not trusting him.
I was sure there would be some kind of discipline involved, but he wouldn’t turn his back on Mimic.
None of them would.
We stopped at a diner for breakfast. It was larger than the one in Diamond Creek, but all these places were the same. Family-run as opposed to a big chain. It was what made the food so good. It was cooked with love.
We squeezed into a booth, Mimic and me on one side, and Johnny sat across from us. The waitress took our order, and the silence was awkward. Things between them had been strained. Mimic’s jealousy of my friendship with Johnny was apparent. I just didn’t know what Johnny’s issue with Mimic was.
“I had a shit mother,” Johnny said out of nowhere.
Mimic and I both looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.
“She was addicted to heroin. My older sister raised me until she died,” he said.
“I’m so sorry. How old was she?” I asked.
“Twenty-three. She died in a fire. The shit part of it was, her boyfriend was a fireman. The son of a bitch let her die.”
“Let her die?” Mimic asked.
“Yeah,” Johnny confirmed without explanation.
I played with the straw in my Coke, afraid to ask the question. “How long ago?”
“Almost ten years.” He turned his head to stare out the window. “The point is, I understand not having a mom. At least not having a good one.” He turned back to look at Mimic. “You’ve got a good one, man. You didn’t see her when she walked in.”
“Don’t,” Mimic said, glaring at Johnny.
“Look, I already know you won’t vote me in. I should have given King my cut and left. But fuck you. I care about Grace, and even if I’m not in the club, I’ll sit in that fucking bar every night and watch over her. So I’m gonna say what the fuck I want and you’re gonna fucking listen.”
“Wait, why won’t you vote him in?” I asked, looking at Mimic. He turned his head away to look around the restaurant. “Why?”
“Because he thinks I have a thing for you.”
“Apparently, you have a thing for Grace too.”
“Fuck you, asshole. She reminds me of my sister,” he spat.
“So does Indie.” He blew out a long breath in the silence, as I glared at Mimic.
Everything we talked about, all the reasons he was afraid to tell King the truth were the same reasons why Johnny would make a stronger brother to have at his back.
He’d already had his back multiple times in the last twenty-four hours.
First when he followed Kytten and sent me his location.
And again when he took the shot at Dakota and tried to follow him.
Then he came with us yesterday, watching out for us, knowing we shouldn’t be alone with the Death Dogs out for blood.
“Johnny is a friend. When I went to the bar, I sat beside him because I knew he wouldn’t hit on me, and neither would anyone else. He was a safe place for me while I waited for you to get your head out of your ass.”
Mimic twisted his head around and narrowed his eyes at me. “What? You have something to say?”
The waitress appeared, holding a large tray with our food. She bit her lip as she looked between the three of us.
“Everything okay?”
I smiled up at her. “Everything is fine. My boyfriend is just being his usual asshole self.” Her eyes went comically big as she looked at the cut on Mimic’s shoulders. She swallowed loudly, frozen in her place.
“I’m sorry,” Mimic said, looking in Johnny’s direction.
I wouldn’t have believed the waitress’ eyes could have gotten bigger if I hadn’t seen it for myself. It was as if she had never seen a man apologize before.
“I’ve literally never heard a man say those words before.” I laughed at her words. It was as if she’d pulled them directly from my brain. Mimic grinned, and Johnny threw his head back and laughed.
She placed the food in front of us and walked away, shaking her head.
I grabbed the ketchup and said, “No one will ever believe her story,” as I squirted ketchup over my scrambled eggs.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Johnny gasped.
“Did you put ketchup on your eggs?” Mimic asked.
“Yeesss,” I said, drawing the word out as I looked between the two of them. “Is there a problem?”
“Yeah, there’s a fucking problem. That’s disgusting.”
Johnny pointed at Mimic. “What he said.”
I slumped back against the booth. “Really? This is what you two join forces about? How I eat my eggs?” I stabbed my eggs, making sure to get some with plenty of ketchup, and held it up to Mimic’s lips. “Try it.”
He pulled back as if I were trying to kill him. The look on his face was comical. “Fuck no.”
I held my fork out over the table. “Johnny?”
He gagged.
Three times.
Johnny grabbed his water, taking a huge gulp. “There is something wrong with you,” he said as he dug into his food.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the two of them. These big bad bikers brought down by a little ketchup—on eggs.
We finally made it back to the clubhouse around lunchtime. We pulled into the compound and parked. I didn’t climb off right away. I stayed, pushed up against Mimic’s back and asked him, “Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “I’m not ready. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.”
“She loves you. It’s all she wants from you. To keep loving you. You both have missed out on so much time together. Neither of you will ever get that time back. But there are still so many years left. Give her a chance. What can it hurt to hear her out?”
He nodded his head, and I took that as his agreement to let his mother be heard. I climbed off his bike and waited for him to do the same.
When he just sat there, bike idling beneath him, I was sure he would take off again. With a deep breath, he turned off the bike and swung his leg over. I pulled him against me and held him tight.
His arms were like a vise as he breathed deeply, before finally letting go and taking my hand. I led him inside; the clubhouse was quiet with only a few brothers milling around.
Kytten ran over and threw herself at her brother. I stepped back, giving them a moment. I looked around the room for his mother, but she wasn’t there.
“Mimic.”
King stood in the doorway to church, his arms crossed over his chest. Mimic looked at his sister. “I need you to come too.” She nodded.
He took my hand, and together the three of us walked toward King. When Mimic pushed through, dragging me behind him, King didn’t say a word.
Mimic took his seat, and I sat down next to him. His mother sat across the table watching him. She didn’t hide the anxiety on her features. I saw the fear etched in the lines around her eyes. I smiled at her, trying to ease her worry.
“Indie?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mimic’s mother glanced at her son before settling her eyes back on me.
“It is nice to meet you,” she said. “My name is Diana Cooper.”
Bane cleared his throat beside her as Mimic shouted, “What?”
“Thorne, if you hadn’t run out of here throwing a temper tantrum, I would have explained everything to you.”
“That’s not your fucking name.”
“No, it’s Diana Lansing,” Bane corrected.
Mimic jumped from his seat. “What the fuck?”
Diana stood up. “Thorne August Lansing, sit your ass down and shut up. I have had enough of your outbursts.”
My eyes widened as Diana yelled at her son. Mimic stood beside me, panting in anger. I grabbed his hand and pulled him down beside me. Diana had a mom voice. You know, the kind that made everyone within earshot sit up and act right immediately.
“That’s not my fucking name.”
“It is your name. It’s the one I gave you. Your birth certificate might have a different last name, but it was always supposed to be Lansing.”
Everyone in the room was quiet. King sat in his chair, giving Diana the floor. I looked around the table at the officers; not a single one of them moved.
Diana looked at Bane before taking his hand. “Your father is August Brian Lansing. I never told you who he was because I was trying to protect you. There is so much I need to tell you, and I will. But first, we have to deal with Meredith’s death.”
Diana looked to King.
“I would have preferred to have Valhalla as a guest downstairs, but seeing as Indie doesn’t listen any better than Mimic does—”
“Hey! I was never told I couldn’t kill her. Or anyone, for that matter. If I’m not mistaken, you gave me the okay to kill that motherfucker who tried to grab me.”
“What the fuck is going on in your club, King?” Bane asked.
“None of your fucking business.” King glared at me. “Shut your mouth, Indie, and listen.”
“Asshole,” I muttered.
King groaned and continued, “The best course of action right now is to avoid telling Reaper anything.”
“Oh yeah,” Jingles scoffed. “That ought to work well.”
“I agree,” Bane said. “As of right now, Reaper has his hands full in Oklahoma. He thinks Montana is turning Meredith over to Morpheus.”
“Why?” Cash asked.
“He thinks she might have information about his sister.”
“Does she?” King asked.
“Not as far as I know,” Bane confirmed. “It was a bluff Shame used to get me out of there once we knew where Diana was.”
“Where were you?” Mimic asked his mother.
“Lyssa Asylum in upstate New York,” she answered, her eyes on her son. The look in her eyes dared him to ask, but I knew the stubborn set of his jaw said he wouldn’t. I squeezed his hand. When he squeezed back, I released the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“No one says a word about Valhalla. Kytten has already been instructed not to tell the Nyght Nymphs. Sypher and Dante will be home before long.”
“He’ll need to be told. She was his mother. Amber too,” Bane said.
“They will. They will be told before Reaper. But not yet. I need time.” Bane nodded, letting King know he would give him time.
“I’m gonna be honest, this is a shit show.
My clubhouse has been buried under shit since December, and it’s all because of the fucking Golden Skulls and Soulless Sinners.
Now I have the fucking Death Dogs starting a war.
” He looked at Diana. “I’m glad you’re here.
Don’t get me wrong. Mimic and Kytten both mean a fuck of a lot to this club.
But your timing couldn’t be worse. I need you both to keep a low profile.
I don’t know how much of the underworld knows you’re alive, Diana, but when it gets out.
..” King took a deep breath. “When word gets out, the shit is going to go so much deeper.”
“I understand,” Diana said.
“If you’re staying in town, I’d prefer you stay here and not leave the clubhouse unless you absolutely have to.”
“We’re staying,” Diana said, her eyes on her son.
King slammed the gavel on the table, and without a word, everyone stood.
“Thorne. I want to speak to you.” I looked between Mimic and his mother. “Alone.”
“You can use the church. Nav, shut off the cameras,” King ordered before walking out of the room with the others.
“Kytten, Indie, why don’t you both come have a drink with me?”
“I don’t drink,” I said.
“Neither do I. I’m allergic to alcohol.” Mimic snapped his head up and looked at Bane, but he didn’t say a word. I thought about the conversation I had with Kytten. I guessed he did get it from his dad.
Before I stood, I placed my hand on Mimic’s cheek and turned his head toward me. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He leaned forward and kissed me. Standing up, I looked at Diana. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
I walked out, letting the door close behind me. I wouldn’t say I wasn’t worried, but I trusted Mimic. I knew he would hear his mother out. What happened after that was anyone’s guess.