Thirty-Four
THIRTY-FOUR
CHAOS
Andy hops off the hay bale as I tear into the yard, dropping his cigarette to the dirt and crushing it beneath his boot.
I jerk the helmet off my head so goddamn hard that I fucking near split an ear and hang it on the bars. “Sorry to keep you waiting, man.”
I had an emergency.
One that’s left me with a crushing sense of hopelessness. You’re not what she needs. Theresa’s right: my influence doesn’t help; it makes Vanessa worse.
She wasn’t this rattled before I fucking showed up.
“No bother.” Andy tosses his hands in his pockets and nods toward the rear of the yard. “I took a few measurements and looked at what we’ll need to do to prepare the site.”
“Yeah?” I scrub a hand over my face as he guides us toward where the barn will sit. Stop thinking about her. Focus.
“The good news is that the ground is pretty level already, so you won’t need much preparation. I pegged the boundary, so you’ve got an idea of size.” He kicks the dust around with the side of his boot as he talks. “I think we could finish this in a few days once the materials are ready.”
“Looks good.”
He wets his lips, seemingly assessing whether it’s wise to speak or not. “Everything okay with you?” Guess he chooses to talk.
“Fine. Why?”
“You look like the hounds of hell are at your door.”
Have been for a while now. “We’re well acquainted. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.”
He shrugs. “Got to ask these things. I can’t have the association we get by doing this job for you bring trouble to our community.”
“It won’t.”
“Can you assure me of that?” He narrows his gaze. Fucker looks like a whole new man when he’s angry. Can see why Fang wasn’t keen to cross paths with Andy again.
“As best I can without divine intervention.”
He hitches an eyebrow at my dig. “I’ll place an order with the hardware store and lumber yard under your name. Send me word when the stuff is on-site, and we’ll be here within the week.”
I offer the guy my hand. “Appreciate it.”
“And we appreciate the business.” He gives a firm shake and then releases, moving toward his horse, hitched in the shade.
I drop my ass to the hay bale as he leaves, watching the man climb atop his steed and guide the animal down the driveway. Everything about him is cool and calm. Life isn’t a hectic rush, but rather something to negotiate away in blocks of easy time.
I envy that. The simplicity.
I can’t envy the community or togetherness—not when I already have that for myself.
My gaze drifts to Vanessa’s house in the distance, the edge of her roof visible across the fields. I thought I was doing the right thing. Fuck—I did the only thing I know how to do. I protected what’s mine, and I took care of the person who hurt them.
He didn’t have much to say at first. The doctor put up a good fight—one that all men who believe they’re born on the side of righteousness share—and did his best to steer me toward the door with bullshit about doctor-patient confidentiality and harassment.
Changed his tune when I braced my hands on either side of the doorframe and refused to move, no matter how hard he shoved me.
Then the mask slipped.
The real man came out to play.
They’re bitter, these love and togetherness types. More often than not, I find it’s a front for the pain they hide below. The inadequacies. The lack of something more. Cohesive. Like love and tenderness. They live in these fragile little worlds and project their anger at the hand they’re dealt onto those they envy.
That’s the difference between fuckers like him and me: I don’t pretend to be something I’m not; I wear the brutalities that shaped me on the outside.
Not buried in a rotten heart, used as a weapon against those who could bring true salvation.
Because that’s what women like Vanessa do. They put in the real work, saving the souls of those around them with nothing but empathy and a willingness to do better.
Be better.
And I fucked it up.
I duck my head, drag a hand over my face, and sigh. What does she want me to do? Her fucking eyes light up each time I talk about vengeance. I offer her my red right hand, and she fucking glows from within. But put that offer into action, and now I’m the bad guy?
Fucking women are hard to understand.
Heels bouncing against the side of the hay bale, I thumb through my phone to Loki’s number and hit Call.
“Rumors are you’re in town,” he taunts when he picks up.
“Was.” I draw a deep breath and exhale. “Rumors didn’t take long to get around.”
“When the good doctor is seen leaving his practice with swelling around his eye and a bruised throat not a half hour after a murderous biker exits the same place, people talk.” He sighs. “What’s going on?”
“You get anywhere with that name I gave you?”
“Prominent businessman down south. No directorial or shareholder positions that I can find, but he has his finger in a lot of pies. Runs a foundation called the Fortress of Faith.”
“What the fuck do they do?” I absently scratch at my pec, gaze drifting to her house again.
“It’s touted as a mentorship for up-and-coming people in commerce. Guidance for small business, that sort of thing.”
“But?”
“They only take on young men. Women who apply are funneled off within weeks to a sister organization called Wings of Faith.”
I slide off the hay and start walking. “She said it wasn’t a cult.”
“Who didn’t?”
I grimace at the faux pas, boots kicking up dust. “Where’s the dirt, Loki?”
“How much do you need?” He chuckles. “It’s fucking everywhere, man. Dust settles in every fucking crevice on this asshole.”
“Gimme the muddiest, man.”
“Underage prostitution. Girls and boys.”
My fist tightens around the phone.
“Unpaid labor.”
Pace quickens.
“Blackmail. Coercion. Bribes. Everything you’d expect out of fuckers who’ve got too much money to not care about wanting more.”
“It ain’t about the money, though, is it?” The gate nears.
“Always about the power at the heart of it.” He groans as though lifting something heavy or shifting position. “Why are we interested in him, Chaos?”
I hesitate at the roadside and stare at her mirage of pretty perfection. “Because fuckers like him have a way of poisoning the water around here. You want to know why I was in town? Because one of this asshole’s lackeys was already messing with our people.” I turn right and keep walking. “I’ve got enough issues around here without adding his flavor of shit to the pile.”
He stays quiet for a moment. Only the crunch of my boots against the road filling the space.
“Mind if I speak honestly?”
He’s the brother I’d prefer it to come from. “Go ahead.”
“In all the digging I did on this fuck, one thing was obvious: he ain’t got anything to do with the mess at the loading dock. He’s a diversion. A distraction. We’ve got more pressing shit to take care of than some businessman with delusions of grandeur on our doorstep.” He hesitates. “We got to stop the bleeding we already got before we inflict more wounds, Chaos. The Kings are at a crossroads, and picking more fights ain’t the way to save us.”
“Lying down and taking it like a dog ain’t either.” I click my fingers as the fluffy feline fuck approaches, coaxing him to join me.
“We’ve got to prioritize.” Loki makes a clicking noise with his tongue. “I’ll do whatever you ask about this Abraham guy. Don’t misunderstand what I’m saying. All I’m asking is that we take him off the top of the list and deal with the bones of the club first.”
He has valid concerns. I can’t deny that.
But I also can’t deny the rush I get as I use my hip to jar Vanessa’s door open again.
“Jinx and Fang have an audience with Taylor about what Callum brought us to test the validity of the info before we give it to Marty.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Highway and I are heading south tomorrow to meet with King from the Fallen Aces about a new run with our weed. If it comes through, I want Matthias out; he brings more trouble than he’s worth.” I sigh, tilting my head back to stare at her ceiling. “Trust me when I say we’ve got everything covered, brother. We don’t have to sit on our hands while we wait for the loose ends to come together.”
“The sale’s final, right? No more waiting periods?”
“Sure is.” Murphy emits a sad squawk as I step through to the living area.
“So, when are we moving in?”
I pluck the hidden camera from its position taped to the underside of a bookshelf and stare into the black lens. “We can start moving tomorrow if we want.”
“How about we table that, then? Pull everyone together to get it done over the weekend? It’d be a good bonding exercise for the club while this shit works itself out.”
Teamwork makes the dream work. “I like it. Make it happen.”
“Will do, brother.”
“Before you go…”
He stays on the line as I stroll through to Vanessa’s bedroom. Patient. Loyal.
“Is what Jinx says true? Like, not an exaggeration?”
Loki pauses before answering. “What’s he said?”
“Do the brothers think I’m no better than my old man?” I hesitate at the end of her bed and look around. “Am I not allowed to spend my nights somewhere other than the club without you all thinking I’m a traitor?”
He heaves a breath. “You’ve never slept anywhere other than the club, Chaos. Even when you were a kid. People don’t tend to change habits like that unless something pretty serious comes along.”
I set the camera on her comforter and then shift to the nightstand. She is pretty serious. “Do you want to know where I’ve been?”
He exhales slowly. “It’s your business to tell us when you’re ready.”
“But you do want to know.” I tear half a page from the back of her abused journal and pick up a pen.
“I want to know it won’t fuck up anything for the club, is all.”
I leave him on the line, frowning as I carefully shape my words on the paper. “It won’t.” I slip the page beneath the camera and scratch Murphy’s head when he jumps up to investigate. “It’ll only fuck up me.”