Chapter 18 Phantom
PHANTOM
We pull into my driveway just as I get a text alert from Shadow.
“What now?” I grab my phone and scan the message. As much as I need to be here tonight for Poppy and her mother, as soon as I read it, I know I have to go.
I groan and turn in my seat. “Babe, I got to run out. There’s a problem with one of the guys who helped at your house. I don’t know if it’s related, but I have to go.”
She looks stricken for a second, but then she nods. “You’ll be back?”
“The second I can.”
“And you’ll be careful?” She looks like she doesn’t want to ask that but can’t help herself.
“Even more so now.” I lean across the bench and kiss her. “Tell your mom I’m sorry I had to run. Don’t wait up,” I tell her.
She kisses me back. Then she climbs out of the truck. I click open the garage and wait until she’s inside, then I close the door again and tear off toward Dylan’s.
My mind races as I drive, but I force myself to slow down. I drive past the house and see bikes and a couple of familiar cars, then park my truck a block away and run toward the house. When I get to the one with the right number, I pound on the door.
“Let me the fuck in,” I growl.
The door opens, and Savage looks murderous. I step inside the house and am about to ask for an update when one look around the room stops me in my fucking tracks.
Dylan is lying on the couch, one eye swollen shut and bruised. His lip is split, and he’s breathing hard through his mouth like it hurts to breathe through his nose. But that’s not what’s so shocking.
My fucking ex-wife Shayla is sitting on the couch beside him, and Viper’s holding a 9mm to her head.
I motion to him. “What the fuck is that for?”
“I fucking told you.” Shayla’s on her feet the second the barrel isn’t pointed at her head. She lunges at Viper, nails out, ready to claw.
Savage is on her in a second, pulling her arms tight behind her and neutralizing any threat to Viper. Viper’s got veins bulging from his neck to his forehead. “This bitch is fucking tweaking,” he spits. “And if she doesn’t calm down soon, I’m going to put her ass in the ground.”
“This bitch is the mother of my kids!” I shout, but then I turn on her. “So, she better have a good goddamn reason for being here. What the fuck is going on here?”
I grab Shayla by the blouse and pull her close to me. One sniff confirms what Viper said. She’s coming down from something. The stink of withdrawal and the sickly-sweet smell of dope is practically oozing from her pores.
“You’re going to settle the fuck down. You’re going to sit still, and you’re not going to hurt anybody in this room. You hear me? And if you answer all my questions, you won’t leave here in a fucking body bag.”
That silences Shayla fast. She glares at me then yanks herself from my hold. She drops down and sloppily moves close to Dylan. Oddly close. “You going to let him talk to me this way?” she screeches. “You’re going to fucking put up with this from that loser?”
My blood is boiling. But it’s not going to do me, my girls, or my club any good if I pop off. Not before I have answers.
I may not have any control over Shayla, but I’ve got something she wants. The kids. And as much as I refuse to let them be innocent pawns, if she doesn’t want her parental rights revoked, she’s going to give me the whole truth. “How long?” I demand. “How long have you been on fucking meth!”
Shayla whimpers. “I’m not, Phantom. I’m not, I just—”
I hold up my hand like I’m going to slap her. I won’t—I’ve never hurt Shayla a day in my life, but the threat has an unexpected effect.
Dylan pops off. “Leave her the fuck alone!” Even with one eye and a busted lip, the kid’s got balls. “Back off.”
“What. Did. You. Say. To Me?” My words are lethally calm, and I stretch them out so he has to savor every one. “Repeat what you said. I want to hear you say it again.” I take one finger and point at my face. “Say. It. To. My. Face.”
Even with a black eye and a bruised face, Dylan has the good sense to look scared as shit. “Just leave her alone, man. All right?”
I pace back and forth in front of the couch, trying to piece this shit together. Viper’s still holding his 9mm, but now he’s pointing it at Dylan. Savage is standing back watching from the doorway, but his hand’s on his waistband.
“Let me get this straight.” I look to Shayla. “You’ve been using, I’m going to guess, what, eight, maybe nine months?”
“Phantom, you don’t understand…” She tries to cut me off, but I give her a look and she clamps her mouth shut.
“Let me fucking talk,” I tell her. “If you’re going to lie to me, then we’re going to sit here until we get to the truth.”
I motion for Dylan to put his hand on the coffee table. “Right here,” I tell him. “Like this. Starfish style. That’s it.”
He knows what I’m doing, and he doesn’t like it. Doesn’t want to comply, but I grab him by the throat and clamp my hands down hard.
“It’s your neck or your fingers. You choose.”
Shayla starts crying, and I throw her a look. “What is this asshole to you? Your dealer? What the fuck are you crying for?”
Dylan’s got one hand spread open, palm down on the table. I pull a knife from my back pocket. “Now,” I tell him, flipping the blade open, “you’re down one eye, and that lip don’t look too good. You want to lose a whole finger? Start fucking explaining.”
“Phantom, please. Don’t.” Shayla’s snorting hard now, snot and tears wetting her face.
Viper makes a disgusted noise, but I just hold up a hand. I’ve got this. Shayla is mine to deal with.
I take the blade of the knife and stab the tip into the coffee table, right between Dylan’s thumb and index finger. “Start fucking talking.”
Dylan reaches out with the hand not on the coffee table and puts it on Shayla’s knee.
“So that’s how it is,” I say, nodding. Now, it’s all coming into focus. “Jizz over here is your latest boy toy. He’s the one you’ve been fucking around with. Leaving the kids alone so the two of you could get high.”
Neither one of them denies it, and that’s proof enough for me. But if Shayla’s been fucking a prospect and the two of them have been doing drugs, that means the break-in at Poppy’s…
It all comes together in my mind in a rush.
I sent Dylan to Poppy’s to clean up. But he’d already been there because he was the one who broke in. Whether Shayla asked him to or it was his idea hardly matters. But I want to know.
“Whose idea was the break-in?” I ask.
“Mine,” Shayla whispers, gripping Dylan’s free hand with hers. “I asked him to scare that bitch who called you about the bill.”
I draw in a furious breath and blow it out slowly.
“So, you’re at my compound—” I point the tip of the knife at him “—drinking my booze and fucking my club bitches.” At that, Shayla shoots him a look, and he just shrugs. “You know how it is, Shayla. A lot of willing pussy and no reason not to go there.”
I’ve been there, done that so many times myself. But the look on her face makes it clear she had no idea he was fooling around on her.
“So, you were a guest in my house, and you decided it was no big deal to—” I stop pacing and bend to scream in his face “—fuck my ex-wife, then break in to my girlfriend’s house.”
“She’s your girlfriend now?” Shayla scowls. “Fucking bitch.”
“You don’t open your damn mouth.” I point the knife at Shayla. “You’re sleeping with this douchebag and bringing him around my kids?”
“I never brought him around the girls,” she says in a rush. “It was never about that, Phantom.”
I ignore her and go back to pacing the floor, punctuating every question with the point of my knife.
I trusted Dylan. He was there the day Shayla confronted me about the kids at the compound. I remember now that he wanted to help, and I told him to keep his ass inside. He probably wanted to make sure Shayla didn’t say anything that would let me in on their little secret.
The brotherhood we have is based on trust. I know that I’d put my life in the hands of any one of these guys.
Viper, Savage, Shadow, Blade, Hawk.
They have my back, and I have theirs.
Not even one of them would fuck another man’s ex-wife.
Not a single one of them would break in to an innocent woman’s house.
We have honor.
We may be assholes, but we’re only assholes with the assholes willing to play our game.
Dylan deserves what’s coming to him.
“So, what,” I scoff. “You little methheads are in love? You ransack Poppy’s fucking house looking for shit to sell for drugs?
” I’m screaming now, and I can’t control my temper.
I pick up the thing closest to me, a giant glass bong, and throw it against the wall.
It shatters and splinters into a thousand shards on the floor.
Some of the glass flies back at me and hits me in the arm.
I don’t care. I don’t feel anything but rage.
Savage clears his throat, and I know he’s giving me a warning. This is the beginning of an end, and I need to handle this like a leader. I will when I’m good and goddamn ready.
“How about those rats?” I seethe. “I knew whoever planted those fuckers had to have the security code to the pool.” I point at Shayla. “That’s all you. You think I don’t know how many times the kids brought you over to swim, and this is how you repay me?”
“You tried to take her fucking kids, Phantom!” Dylan’s visibly shaking now, and Shayla looks like she’s going to be sick.
“I don’t ever want to hear you talk about my kids. Do you hear me? You say their names, you even think their names, and I’ll tear every last tooth from your mouth and stick them so far up your ass you won’t be able to tell if you’re eating or shitting. You got me?”
Viper cracks his knuckles. “I’m fucking done. These two gotta pay. Why don’t you let me handle it? Two birds, one fucking bullet.”
Shayla starts screaming and crying. “Don’t! My God, Phantom. You’d let them take me from our kids!”