Chapter 4 #3
“That said,” my grandpa chimed in gruffly.
“We ain’t sittin’ around waitin’ for him to wake up and start talkin’.
Someone had the balls to hijack one of our shipments and we need to find out who it was yesterday.
You got any ideas, you come to me, and we’ll check it out.
Put your ears to the ground, check in with your contacts, rack your brains. ”
“Any questions?” my dad asked, looking around the group.
No one spoke up. “Good.” He started to walk away and then paused.
“Be a good idea for you to call your women. No need to get them riled up, but tell ’em to keep their eyes open.
Doors locked. No unnecessary trips into town. You know the drill.”
He strode toward us, scowling, and I sat up straighter in my seat.
“The fuck?” Rumi asked as he reached us.
“Got no fuckin’ clue,” Dad replied tiredly, snatching a chair from the table next to us and spinning it around so he could sit on it backward. “Whoever did this shit has nuts the size of cantaloupes.”
“You think we’ll find out who it was?”
Dad smiled at me and reached out to scrub his hand over the top of my head like I was ten years old. “Just a matter of time, bud.”
“Hopefully not too much time, or those guns will be gone,” Mick muttered.
“Can’t sell ’em,” Brody mused, tapping his knuckles against the table. “There’s no way they could do it quietly enough that we wouldn’t find out—not around here anyway.”
“And takin’ them across state lines would be a definite fuckin’ gamble,” Rumi said, nodding.
“So why would they take ’em?” Micky asked.
“For themselves?” I said, feeling oddly nervous to put in my two cents. I’d been a patched-in member for a minute, but it still felt weird to offer an opinion on anything. I was always waiting for them to tell me to shut the fuck up and go clean the bathroom or something.
“That’s somethin’ to think about,” my dad replied. “Who’s got balls that big and would be willin’ to fuck with us in order to get a shipment—”
“And who wouldn’t have the cash to just fuckin’ buy it from us and would risk stealin’ it,” Rumi added.
They volleyed ideas back and forth, thinking of groups and discarding them as suspects for one reason or another. An hour later, they’d come to the conclusion that it was either a group of survivalists that had a compound down near Sutherlin or a religious group closer to home.
I clenched my jaw as they spoke, thinking it couldn’t be the same church that Esther belonged to. It was too fucking coincidental.
“I’ve had a couple of run-ins with them,” Brody said, shaking his head. “Pompous fucks. The guys I met would shit their pants and look you straight in the eye and tell you God told them to do it.” He laughed. “They’d believe it, too. Drinking the motherfuckin’ Kool-Aid around there.”
“I haven’t met any of ’em,” Mick said. “Except for the ones we’d see around school.” He looked at Rumi. “What was that kid’s name? Brown hair. Tall and skinny. Eric?”
“Nah, that wasn’t it,” Rumi said. “Somethin’ biblical. They’re all named after somethin’ biblical.”
“Ephraim?” I asked, my throat tight.
“That’s it,” Rumi replied, pointing at me. “It was Ephraim.”
Fuck. Me.
“That kid seemed alright,” Mick mused. “Quiet though. Like he couldn’t be bothered to make any friends or interact with anyone outside their little church group.”
“Their parents ruled with an iron fist,” Rumi added. “Remember that time we saw his pop reach back in their car and slug him in the face?”
My guts twisted.
“Not easy to forget,” Mick replied dryly. “Never really saw his mom, though.”
“Not surprising. The girls at school practically faded into the paint on the walls. Mousy as shit. I doubt they’re allowed to have an opinion on anythin’.”
I almost said something, then. Mousy, my ass. Esther wasn’t mousy. Esther was fucking gorgeous and she didn’t need all the make up and shit that most girls wore.
“Call themselves the Sons of Calgary,” Rumi said, snapping his fingers happily. “Calgary Church down by the highway.”
“I’ll take it back to Dragon,” my dad said, cutting off their conversation. “Could be either group, but I think we’ve got somethin’ here. Good call realizin’ that they wouldn’t be able to sell shit without us knowin’.” His lips twitched. “My pops said the same thing about an hour and a half ago.”
Rumi sputtered. “You tellin’ us that we just spent an hour spitballin’ and came up with shit you’d already realized?”
Dad laughed. “Hey, I didn’t know you knew any of ’em from school,” he said jokingly. “And we hadn’t narrowed it down yet.”
“You’re welcome,” Rumi grumbled.
“Get back to work,” Dad ordered. “Still got rigs to fix and a business to run.”
Slowly but surely, the crowd thinned as everyone migrated out of the clubhouse and back to the garage. I was working on changing the radiator of an old Ford pickup when Rumi came up behind me, jabbing me in the side with his thumb.
“Knock it off, asshole,” I barked, jerking sideways, my hands covered in grease. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Mom wants all of us at their place for dinner,” he informed me importantly. “Right after work.”
“Mom wants me to come over, she can call me herself,” I replied, turning back to the truck.
“She asked me to tell you and Micky, twerp.”
“Fine.”
He didn’t speak for a minute, but I could feel him behind me. Watching me. It made the spot between my shoulder blades itch.
“You got somethin’ on your mind?” he asked finally, all joking gone from his voice.
“No, why?”
“You got awfully quiet inside.”
“Didn’t have anythin’ to add.”
“A little pale, too.”
“I’m not fuckin’ pale.”
“You know those kids from the church?”
“Went to school with them, just like you and Mick and Brody,” I replied, forcing myself to keep my hands busy.
“You’re sure that’s all?”
“What are you askin’?” I turned to look at him.
“I’m not sure,” he said slowly, his eyes on my face.
“Well, when you figure it out, let me know.” I turned away again. “And tell Mom that I’ll be there when you talk to her again in ten minutes.”
“I don’t talk to her that much,” he argued as he walked away.
“Fuckin’ mama’s boy,” I muttered.
“I heard that,” he called back. “And I’m tellin’ Mom you said it.”
“Like it’s somethin’ she doesn’t already know!”
The rest of the day passed by quickly and I was able to finish up the truck by the end of the day.
After letting the office know that the owner could come pick it up, I cleaned my hands as best I could and headed out to my bike.
I would’ve rather gone home so I could spend some time alone figuring out the clusterfuck I seemed to have stepped right into.
The fact that I’d slept with Esther wouldn’t mean anything to the club.
They couldn’t give less shits about where we dipped our wicks—as my dad would say—but the fact that I was looking for her and that I’d stopped by their fucking nursery that morning would definitely be questioned.
My best bet would be to let it go and steer clear until we’d figured out who had taken our shipment of guns—but I wasn’t sure I could do that.
Not knowing if there had been any fallout to Esther and I hooking up was like an itch I couldn’t scratch.
Even the thought of ignoring it made me feel like ants were crawling under my skin.
Maybe she’d just blown me off… but Esther didn’t seem like the type to say she’d meet you and then not show—unless there was a reason.
I had to know she was okay. Once I did that, I’d let my dad know that I had a connection to her.
No need to drag her into the middle of shit unless I had to.
Everyone was already at my parents’ house when I got there and I barely escaped getting head-butted in the nuts when my nephew ran at me the minute I walked through the door.
“Hey, Racing Rhett.” I lifted him off the floor and flipped him upside down, making him squeal. “What are you doin’ here?”
“Havin’ dinner!” he replied through his giggles.
“Nah, Grandma made this dinner just for me,” I argued, walking through the house while I dangled him above the floor by his ankles. “What are you gonna eat?”
“She made dinner for me!”
“No way, man.” I lifted him and got one arm wrapped around his chest so I could flip him right side up again, knocking into one of the picture frames on the wall in the process. “Whoops.”
“I’m tellin’,” he said, laughing as I slung him over my shoulder. “No dinner for you!”
“Snitches get stitches,” I replied, straightening the frame.
“Please don’t teach my son that,” Emilia said in exasperation, scooting around me. “I’m trying to keep him from being a hooligan like the rest of you.”
“Think you’re too late,” I said, chuckling as Rhett tried to get me back by punching me in the lower back.
“Rhett Hawthorne,” Emilia scolded. “Knock it off.”
“Uncle started it,” he whined, kicking his legs a little so I’d let him down.
“I’m ending it,” Emilia said firmly as I put Rhett back on his feet. “Go wash your hands.”
“They’re clean!”
“Go.” She gave him the mom stare and he hurried toward the bathroom.
“You’re such a mom,” I joked, bumping into her deliberately as I passed her.
“You’re such an uncle,” she replied, shoving me a little from behind.
“Emilia Hawthorne,” I scolded in the exact same tone she’d used on Rhett. “Hands to ourselves, please.”
She laughed. “Ass.”
As we got to the kitchen, I saw Titus across the room.
He must’ve been waiting for me because he was looking right at us.
Emilia moved toward the cupboards to help my mom set the table and Titus jerked his chin toward the back door so I’d follow him.
I said my hellos to everyone and then acted like I was going outside to grab a beer out of the fridge on the porch.
“Smooth,” I said dryly as I closed the door behind me.
“Fuck off.” He watched as I grabbed myself a beer. Might as well get one while I was out there. “So, I talked to Esther’s little sister today.”
“You what?” I barked, spinning to face him.
“Do you want everyone to know you fucked Esther Allen?” he hissed, looking at the door behind me. “Jesus!”
“Why the fuck would you think it was a good idea to talk to her sister?” I ground out.
Visions of Titus getting caught up in the bullshit if we found out that Esther’s church had stolen the guns made me feel like I was going to have a heart attack.
He was kept out of club business and had absolutely no idea what was going on.
I’d been his age when I’d killed Emilia’s attacker and not only would I not wish that on any seventeen-year-old, but Titus was a younger seventeen than I’d been. He was practically a goddamn baby.
“We’re friends.”
“You’re friends?” I asked incredulously. “With Esther’s sister?”
“Okay, maybe not friends,” he conceded. “But we talk sometimes. We’re both in the same woodshop class and we were partners on a project.”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, looking up at the roof.
“She said her sister got into trouble and was sent away,” Titus said in one breath, the words practically tumbling over each other.
“You asked about Esther?” My voice was flat. Fuck, he was such an idiot.
“I wasn’t obvious about it.” He glared at me. “Did you hear what I said? Esther was sent away.”
“Yeah, I heard you. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know. She just said that one day she was there and then the day after Thanksgiving she left.”
“The day after Thanksgiving?” Shit. It was already January. She’d been gone for months. Why the fuck hadn’t I followed up with her sooner?
“Noel was pretty upset about it. Once she started talking about it she didn’t stop for like five minutes.”
“Well, what else did she say?” I snapped, keeping my voice down.
“Nothing really.” Titus shrugged. “That she missed her and she wasn’t sure when she was coming back. She said her parents won’t even talk about it.”
“Fuck,” I breathed.
“Do you think—” He swallowed hard. “Do you think it’s because of you and her?”
My heart was beating like a fucking drum in my chest but I shook my head. “We hooked up in September. Your friend said she didn’t even get in trouble until two months later. It must’ve been something else.”
“What the hell else could it be?” Titus replied, frowning. “I mean, it’s Esther.”
“Maybe I wasn’t the only guy she hooked up with,” I said, knowing in my gut that it wasn’t true. “Maybe she got caught doin’ something else later.”
“Yeah, right,” Titus muttered.
The door opened behind me and I turned to see my mom poking her head out.
“Grab me a beer, Otto-mobile,” she ordered. “And then get your ass inside, dinner’s ready.”
As soon as I walked back into the kitchen, I knew something was up.
“No time for dinner,” Mick said to me over his shoulder before leaning down to give Emilia a kiss. “Gotta head back to the club.”
I looked around and Rumi was also getting up from the table, shoving his hand jokingly against Nova’s little brother’s head before kissing Nova goodbye.
“Sorry, ma,” I said, handing her the beers I’d carried inside.
“No worries, baby,” she said with a shrug. “Nothing new.”
I followed my brothers out of the house, still struggling to catch up to what was happening. My dad was already outside on his bike.
“Got some new information,” he said, lifting his helmet. “Those fuckin’ Bible thumpers have ’em. Go straight to the club, shit’s gonna get messy.”
We climbed on our bikes and followed him back to the clubhouse. The entire ride there I just kept thinking, thank fuck they’d sent Esther away and she wasn’t going to be in the middle of the shitstorm we were about to unleash.