Chapter Eleven
Nashville
Everyone is looking at Beast while he stares at the wall. So far no one has asked him anything and my tongue is itching to be the first but Nero comes in before I can, which is probably a good thing. He looks at Beast too but doesn’t make a big deal of it.
Nero gets down to business asking Blaze if we’re anywhere on finding Storm. He gets the same response, following leads, tracking men we believe he worked with, but still no sign. Nero’s frustration is obvious, but he doesn’t take it out on Blaze. He is doing his best, working night and day on this.
“Beast, you good?” Nero asks.
“Yeah.”
“You want to try that with a little less lie in your answer.”
“Fuck,” he sits back and puts his hands behind his head. “She’s… I had a paternity test rushed through. And its ninety-nine point nine what the fuck ever she’s mine.”
Everyone is quiet, no one wants to make fun of this the way they have with Nero but that’s a different kind of situation. Nero knew about and had been raising his kid without telling anyone. This is very different. This is a whole ass teenager showing up out of nowhere.
“You don’t need to tell us everything, but I do want to know where it goes from here, how it affects you as an officer.”
“It won’t affect anything,” he drops his hands. “I’m figuring shit out. Her mom was someone I knew in high school. Shit was rough for me back then and as soon as I could, I got the fuck out. Didn’t know I’d got her pregnant.”
That explains why Beast has a seventeen-year-old at his age. He was the same age as her when she was conceived.
“They kicked her out when she got pregnant, she raised the kid alone.”
“Damn,” Fury says from beside him.
“Yeah, she’s had a tough life. Her mom died, she has no one else. Not gonna get much better with me as a father.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Nero tells him.
He’s not leaving room for arguments. No matter how it goes, this kid is part of the Blackhawk family, she’ll be taken care of.
“Where is she?” Razer asks.
“Staying with Raven,” Rebel speaks up. He eyes us all after our reaction to that. “Surprised me too, but she didn’t want the kid left here, or out on the street.”
Beast clenches his fists.
“Okay, so long as she is somewhere safe, and not being corrupted by Raven,” Nero adds, which gets a laugh from a few of us. “We had a situation at Elegance last night.”
My head whips up to Beast. His eyes meet mine and he shakes his head, he doesn’t know what Nero means.
“It involved Cantrell junior. The dickhead hurt one of the wait staff. Ellie and Walker dealt with it, but I want someone watching the fucker on Saturday.”
“Who did he hurt and how?” Beast takes the words right out of my mouth.
“Charley.”
My seat flies back and I start to get up. Everyone looks at me. Shit.
“What’s wrong with you?” Rebel asks.
I can’t let them know she’s living with me. Or that I am full on infatuated with her. Jesus Christ how did I not know she got hurt? Because I avoided going home last night like a fucking child.
“Something bit me.”
“What?”
“Nothing, go on, what did he do to her?”
“Bumped into her, knocked over some glasses on her tray and wanted her fired.”
Fired? Fuck.
“Ellie stroked the idiot’s ego and sent the girl home, but she didn’t fire her.”
“Doesn’t seem too bad to me,” Fury states.
“She cut her hand, pretty bad Walker said. Glass sliced through her palm, but she is okay, he dealt with it. It was all dealt with,” Nero eyes Beast. “But we can’t afford for any shit like that to happen again.”
“I’ll be back there tonight,” Beast says, his expression troubled. He’s the one who kept giving Charley chances, so it stands to reason he’s worried. “Did Ellie say if she told Charley to stay off a couple of nights?”
“Does he look like a messenger? Speak to Ellie,” Rebel cuts in.
The whole time they’re talking my blood is boiling, the rage growing. He fucking made her bleed? Now I know what Nero felt when he saw that video of Taylor being attacked.
I’m not even in a relationship with Charley and I want to break Cantrell’s fucking neck. Something I can’t do given the negotiations he is into with the club over distribution of weapons.
God dammit. My leg starts to bounce as the meeting goes on. I can’t go running home to make sure she is okay and stupidly, I don’t have her cell number.
When the meeting finally breaks up, I’m the first to head for the door, trying to figure out how I can check on Charley without letting on to anyone, but Nero calls me back. Shit, I can’t say no. This is about Sheridan and my brother.
Before he can ask, I give him the lowdown on what Cam told me and that as soon as he is close, he’ll call me.
“You’ll go down there?”
“Yeah, I’ll bring her back.”
“Okay,” he leans an elbow on the arm rest of his chair. “Everything else okay?”
“Fine.”
“Why do you look like you want to get out of here?”
“Just some stuff going on, it’s not important.”
“You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
Nero knows I’m lying, but he doesn’t probe. If it was an issue for the club, he trusts that I would raise it, but since Chains turned traitor on us a few months ago, he’s more watchful. Not that I think he doesn’t trust me.
“Then let’s go get a drink next door. I could do with a break.”
“A break?” I ask in surprise.
“Taylor and Jesse are suddenly like siblings who can’t stop pecking at each other.”
“Sounds fun.”
“They’re worse than Oscar,” he rolls his eyes.
“Is Jesse not ready to go back to his place?”
“He’s been ready for a week but Taylor wants him to stay longer.” He laughs at my expression. “Exactly, figure that out. So yeah, I need a drink.”
We head over to the bar, the whole time I’m there I fake a smile and barely finish one drink, just long enough to get away with not looking like I’m running out on everyone when I say I have to go.
It takes a fucking age to get home and when I pull into the garage I’m relieved to see the BMW there.
Charley is in the laundry room emptying the drier and I almost snatch the basket out of her hands, making her squeal. When she sees it’s me, she hits me. Not hard, and not on purpose, it was a reaction to me walking in and scaring the shit out of her.
“What the hell?” she pants.
“Sorry,” I hold up my hands. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Jesus, Callum.” She puts both hands on the top of the drier and leans forward, but winces and pulls her hand away, then she turns to me, her eyes wide. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, I know what it is.”
“I just dropped a tray.”
“You expect me to believe that.”
“I’m clumsy.”
“You were, you haven’t dropped anything in weeks. What did he do?”
“Nothing,” she can tell I’m fully up to speed with what happened. “He actually did only bump into me, it was a complete accident that didn’t need to turn out the way it did. Alcohol spilled all over his pants and shoes and he wanted to blame me.”
“Fucking asshole.”
“Ellie handled it and my hand is fine.”
“Let me see.”
“No, it’s bandaged, I’m not untying it to show you a cut.”
“What if there is glass still in it?”
“There isn’t.”
I open my mouth to argue some more but she walks around me and leaves the room, and the laundry. I glance down and see a pair of tiny white lace panties sitting on top and my head scrambles for a moment.
“Charley,” I drag my eyes away and follow her.
“I promise, I’m fine,” she stops at the bottom of the stairs.
She doesn’t look fine, but I don’t want to make her feel any worse than she clearly already does. If she thought Ellie was going to fire her last night and told her to stay off work a few days, she could have done with having someone to talk to when she got home.
Home, shit. This isn’t her home. This is temporary, albeit a little longer than the one night I first said when I got her out of the crack house. But that is beside the point.
“Callum,” she touches my forearm with her good hand and I swear sparks jolt up it and go straight to my dick. “I’m good. I’ve even been in to Elegance this morning to practice with the other girls.”
Right, the dance for the special party on Saturday. The one for the fucking Cantrell’s. He’ll see her there and know she didn’t get fired but with the entire council and more of our brothers there, he won’t try anything. He’d be seriously fucking stupid to.
Doesn’t mean I won’t be watching Charley like a hawk.
“How did it go?” I ask, to divert from asking any more questions about that fucking shitbag.
“Good, well, I didn’t mess up. But it’s a dress rehearsal so…”
“You’ll be great,” I reassure her. “You’re an expert now.”
“Doing one dance for one guy makes me an expert?”
“When I’m the guy,” I wink at her. “I decide, and I say you’re going to be great.”
“You’re full of shit, but thank you,” she smiles.
“Do you want to grab a drink?” I blurt out.
“What, go out?”
“No, I mean, I have drinks here, I just thought we could hang out.”
“Hang out?”
“Is there a parrot in here?” I grin. “Come on, have a drink with me,” I tug her sleeve and step back. It’s not hard enough to drag her, if she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t have to, but shit, my smile gets wider when she agrees.
I get her a bottle of wine and glass, and grab a six-pack so I don’t have to keep getting up and we go into the living room. Using my phone, I start up a playlist of alternative rock music.
“No Vampire Diaries,” she smiles, sitting down and folding her legs underneath her butt.
“Nah, I’ve had enough of Damon and Stefan for a little while. Besides, we can’t talk if we’re watching TV, right?”
She brushes some hair behind her ear. I love it when she wears it all loose like that, spilling over her shoulder, kind of like it was when she was dancing and her nipples were peeking through all that golden hair.
“So where are you from?” I ask, sucking down some beer.
“Originally? A little town in California.”
“That’s specific,” I laugh. “North, South?”
“In the bay area. Woodside.”
“Expensive round there.”
“Kinda,” she takes a healthy gulp of her wine.
“Any siblings?”
“Nope.”