Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty Seven
Naomi
I’ve pretty much been attached to Kolter’s hip for the last two days—I’ve barely let him pee without me.
He tries to act tough, like he doesn’t need anything, but he almost died.
The doctor said he was very touch and go, so rest is the most important part of his recovery.
I’ve been doing what I can, but he’s made it impossible to fully watch over him, and now he’s snuck out of the house while I was sleeping.
He sent me a text saying he was going to the store for provisions and would be back soon, but that was hours ago, and I’m getting impatient.
I’m half tempted to go looking for him. I don’t even know how he left the place, unless he took a rideshare or something, since his bike is still back at the club.
Ace has texted me a few times to check in on Kolter.
Apparently, Kolter hasn’t been responding to any of his messages.
I mean, I kind of understand that. All we’ve been doing is eating, sleeping, and screwing, though we’ve had to get creative when it comes to that last one.
Kolter insists he’s fine, but I know him too well to believe a word out of his lying mouth.
I’m just responding to a message from Cassi when another text comes in.
Kolter: Meet me here as soon as you can.
Then a pin comes in, dropping the address of a little diner about forty minutes away in the middle of nowhere.
I frown as I text him back.
Me: Why? What’s going on? Are you okay?
Kolter: More shit with the club. I need to get you somewhere safe. Don’t bother grabbing anything. Just hurry, Peaches.
Anxiety fills me as I climb out of bed and slide on some clothes. Worst-case scenarios begin playing in my head, and when I try to call Kolter and it goes to voicemail, I really start to freak out.
I’m in the car in less than ten minutes, my fingers drumming nervously against the steering wheel as I follow Kolter’s directions.
For a moment, I’m tempted to call Ace and see if he knows what’s going on. I think better of it, though. I don’t know what Kolter means when he says things with the club. I know he trusts Ace, and so do I, but I’m worried about putting him in danger if I let on that I know something I shouldn’t.
I wish Kolter had picked a closer meet-up point so I’d have less time to spiral out of control.
When I finally pull into the parking lot, I blow out a breath, relieved to see Kolter’s bike out front. There are only two other cars here—we must be the only people here besides the workers.
I step through the front door and look around the small diner. Matthew is sitting in one of the booths. For a moment, I’m not sure if he’s supposed to see me, but when he makes eye contact and smiles, waving me over, I lower my guard a little.
What the heck is going on?
When I reach him, he gestures for me to take the seat across from him.
“What’s going on?” I ask, looking around for any sight of Kolter.
“I feel like we haven’t gotten to chat enough. Thanks for meeting me.”
“Meeting you?” I ask.
I have no idea what’s going on.
Matthew pulls Kolter’s phone out of his pocket, dangling it between us before setting it on the table. Instantly, a ball of lead drops into my stomach, chills racing up and down my spine.
“W-Where is Kolter?”
“He’s around,” Matthew says cryptically.
“Around where?” I ask, attempting to keep my tone steady and firm.
Irritation fills Matthew’s gaze before he whistles.
The doors leading to what I assume is the kitchen open, and Bones drags out a bleeding Kolter.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, rising from my seat.
Matthew’s hand shoots out like a striking viper, gripping my arm and pinning me in place.
“You will stay seated until you’re excused. It’s bad manners otherwise.”
Kolter’s head lolls forward, blood dripping down his face from his eyebrow. His gaze is confused, unfocused—until he sees me. It seems that’s all he needs to rouse himself, and he rears against Bones’ grip, attempting to reach me, but Bones easily holds him back.
“No! Fuck. What are you doing?” he spits at his father.
“While you were bleeding to death in the back of the club, your little girlfriend and I had an interesting chat,” Matthew says.
My brows knit together in confusion.
“Something about her being the one that called the ambulance the knight the mafia gunned you down on Rainier.”
Panic fills Kolter’s eyes, and he quickly shakes his head. “She didn’t. I did. I was fading and got scared and called for help. I told you that,” Kolter lies.
“That’s what I believed for years, and I nearly killed you for it then.
The ambulance found you alright—as did the police, who seized three million dollars worth of merchandise from our warehouse.
If it wasn’t for Slinky taking the fall for ownership, I’d have been right back behind bars again.
Still would be, in fact. That’s a pretty costly mistake, but I was willing to forgive it.
Especially after all the years of dedication you’ve offered me and the club,” Matthew says.
His gaze turns to me then, his grip on my arm still punishing, and his tone takes on a sharp edge.
“But then this little slice of pie shows up out of nowhere all these years later, and all of a sudden, you’re not coming to meetings, you’re cutting out of duties.
You’re impossible to track down, and when the boys do find you, where are you? Always with this one.”
I look to Kolter, but his gaze is fully focused on his father.
“I didn’t like how weak she was making you,” Matthew continues.
“She was a distraction, one that would have to go eventually. Then I started to convince myself she could be useful. Once I found out her fat mouth caused one of the largest losses our club has faced, though? It confirmed every doubt I had about her,” he says, pulling a gun out from under the table and aiming it right at me.
“No,” Kolter snarls, stomping on Bones’ foot before elbowing him in the face and breaking free.
I take advantage of the moment, surging to my feet when Matthew’s hold on me loosens.
Kolter charges for his dad, but Matthew’s already standing and punches him in the chest—right where he was shot—before smacking him across the face with his gun. Kolter drops to the ground, and Matthew turns to me, pointing the gun at me once more.
I lift my hands in the air, shaking uncontrollably. “P-Please. I-I’m sorry. I was just a kid. I didn’t know. I was just trying to save h-him.”
Matthew gives me a pitying look. “Shhh, don’t cry, sweetheart. This isn’t personal. I think you’re a sweet girl. You’ve certainly grown into yourself well, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed I won’t get to see if you taste as good as your mother.”
My stomach curls at his vile words, tears pouring down my face.
“I’d keep you around for myself if I could. Unfortunately, this isn’t just business—it’s a lesson,” he says, glancing at Kolter, who’s bleeding profusely on the ground, Bones’ boot holding him in place.
“Say goodnight,” he says, looking back at me.
A shot rings out, and I jolt, my eyes widening in horror as Kolter lets out a soul-crushing scream. Time slows, my brain struggling to catch up with my eyes, and a body thuds to the floor.
Oh my God…
But it’s Matthew, a huge hole blown through the side of his head, blood and brain matter splattered against the diner window. I wait for him to get up, to come for me or Kolter, but he doesn’t—he just lies there, creating a larger and larger puddle of blood.
He’s dead.
He’s dead.
Wait. Who—?
Everything is still moving in slow motion, and it takes my mind entirely too long to process the scene before me.
Then I see it. The gun in Bones’ hand, still aimed where Matthew once stood.
His eyes meet mine, but that gut-clenching fear doesn’t dissipate until he lifts his foot and releases Kolter, his gaze still firmly on me.
Kolter scrambles towards me, cupping my face in his hands as a tear skates down his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Peaches.”
The sound of a throat clearing jolts Kolter into action, and he turns round in a flash, shielding my body with his as he faces Bones.
“What are you playing at?”
“I’m not playing at anything,” he says stiffly.
“You just killed your president… your best friend,” Kolter says.
Bones nods once.
“Why?” I ask, stepping out from behind Kolter carefully.
Bones is still brandishing his gun, but I have a feeling if he wanted either of us dead, he wouldn’t have intervened. Which begs the question…
“Why did you do it?”
His jaw tightens as he blows out a short breath through his nose. Silence stretches between us for several seconds, so long that I think he won’t respond, and then he finally says:
“I wasn’t gonna let him take out my kid.”
Shock and confusion slam into me. His what?