Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Gemini
It’s been a couple of weeks since we got our new rides.
With a smile plastered on my face, I rev my engine through town as I make my way around each curve and stop at each red light.
I’m still in awe that the local Harley dealership reached out to us and said we had to come down and pick out bikes to outfit the entire club.
When I pressed, I was simply told an anonymous donor had gifted them to us.
Since Pisces’ bike was trashed, it wasn’t a hardship for any of us to head down and choose a model to our liking.
Our old bikes are now back-ups whenever we have to have servicing done.
In fact, Orion is working on getting his Harley certification so we can be another option for bikers who ride them.
While he already has the skills, of course, it never hurts to have that piece of paper up on a wall—well, once those walls are finished so he can open the place, that is.
Sighing, I worry that despite the threat Sutton received, there’s been no further attempts against her.
Orbit, our new ‘tech guru’ as he calls himself, has been burning the midnight oil searching out every small snippet of a trail he can find, but so far, they all lead to dead ends.
About the only good thing that’s come of it is the fact that Sutton’s still living in the house we’re using.
Seeing her as a grown woman who has come into her own is fucking sexy as hell.
She’s no longer the waif who did everything she could to make herself invisible.
Now, she’s bold and decisive, although when it comes to our relationship, she’s still keeping one foot on the brakes.
Thank fuck we actually kissed, but all that did was stir my blood into a fevered pitch later that night when I went to bed alone with blue balls.
“Something’s gotta give, one way or another,” I mutter as I slow at a light that’s turned yellow.
I may have no problem opening up the throttle on the open road, and thankfully, it’s started to thaw a bit and the temperatures have risen into double digits so the roads aren’t as dangerous, but in town, blowing a light could get me seriously injured or even killed.
Not willing to take that chance at all, especially since I have plans for my future and they don’t include becoming worm food.
If that fucker would just do something, we could proceed, but he’s hiding behind his position at the hospital, as well as his grandfather’s deep pockets.
We may know he’s the one who has been terrorizing Sutton, but we don’t really have proof per se.
That’s the only reason, outside of the fact that we’re now Kings, that we didn’t get the cops involved.
In another time, back before we accepted Big Daddy’s offer, we’d have done it and not thought twice.
Sure, we’d have been involved as much as possible, but the law would have dealt any punishment.
Now, however, we’re gonna be judge, jury, and executioner, if it comes down to it.
Whatever will keep my woman safe is the route we’re going to go.
Today I’m doing a bit more exploring of our new town since the roads aren’t encumbered with feet of snow.
Yes, feet. Not inches like I’m used to coming from Texas, but fucking feet.
I make a mental note that once our finances start going in the right direction, we’re going to get some other vehicles to get around on, namely some snowmobiles, as well as ATVs.
Both will give us the freedom we crave riding our bikes, but they’ll be a helluva lot easier to use on the terrain when the weather sucks.
Riptide and Rio think we’re ready to proceed and are heading back home.
It’s going to be an adjustment without them here to bounce ideas off of but I’m more than ready to take the reins.
The only thing that’s still out there hovering over us is the entire Jeffries issue.
Which I’m certain we can deal with on our own.
They’ve already signed off on us taking matters into our own hands and dealing with it how we see fit.
Which is a relief because as long as things don’t ricochet back on the club, we don’t have to take things to the big wigs like most MCs are forced to do.
We are our own rung on the ladder and don’t have to climb it to get permission to act in the name of the Kings.
However, if trouble comes calling, they’ll have our backs.
I spend another hour scouring the town and like normal, everything is as it should be.
My only frustration is the fact that Allen has been lying low and hasn’t done anything overly suspicious.
I wish he’d step over that line so that we could take action.
I sigh as I take the back road leading to the clubhouse.
My main mission today was to check the fence line because Rio has set us up with Issy and in the next month or so, we’ll be getting a delivery of cattle.
I’m not a rancher by trade, but I had friends in Texas whose families were so I’m not going into this totally blind.
I spend most of my summer days at our neighbors learning how to care for them, vaccines, de-balling, and all the other aftercare bullshit that comes with keeping them alive and maintained.
I’m not an expert, but we’ve put a call out for ranch hands and should have a place for them to stay in the next couple of weeks.
Hercules’ men have split up and are taking care of other aspects of the land and buildings.
Things are starting to shape up and settle.
It’s beginning to look like a real clubhouse with working businesses attached.
I notice a break in the fence line and mark it on my phone by pinning it and sending it off to Pisces who’s jotting the locations down to be fixed.
I begin to ride away when something catches my attention and I kick down my stand and hop off.
As I get closer, I crouch down and realize it’s a Zippo lighter that caught the sun.
The fine hair on the back of my neck stands upright when I notice a pile of cigarette butts tossed onto the ground.
“Someone’s been scoping us out,” I grind out. “Fuck!”
Since I’m wearing my riding gloves, I don’t worry about compromising them as I pick up a few and tuck them inside my inner cut pocket. As I push the remainder of them around with my finger, a burnt business card is at the bottom of the pile, and I remove it from the ash and read it.
“Motherfucker.” The brand of smokes in itself is unusual, they’re special blends that have to be shipped by cartons from overseas.
Which means whoever smokes them has to have taken a trip across the ocean because they aren’t marketed in the states.
The reason I know this is because a friend of mine who served in the military became obsessed with these when he was stationed in England.
I made fun of him when I saw him pull one out of a pack when we caught up once his stint was over.
They’re slim, almost feminine, and are rose gold in color—very unique.
I huff out an angry breath and jump back on my bike and continue along with checking for other breaks in the fence line.
When I find no other breaches I continue along the path and end up pulling up the rocky trail that leads to our house.
Orion and Mercury come bounding off the porch and are in my face before I get a chance to dismount and shut my engine off.
I shake my head at them as I swing my leg over the saddle and remove my helmet.
“Show me what you found,” Mercury demands as he holds his hand out, palm facing up. I shot off a text with a picture attached before heading away from the scene where I found the barbed wire fence cut.
“Cool your jets, man,” I scold as I glance down at his ungloved hand and refuse to pass them over. We don’t have an inside man in the lab who can do some testing on them and see if any genetic material was left behind, but I’m sure Sutton does. “What has you so up in arms anyhow?”
“Because I’ve been tailing that shithead and he chews on the ends of his smokes. I want to see if the ones you brought back have the same indentations or not,” Mercury answers.
“Let’s bag them up first because I wanna see if Sutton can get these into the lab at the hospital to run for possible DNA,” I reply.
“And that’s why you’re the president,” Orion chortles as we walk into the house and toward the kitchen.
“Kiss ass,” Mercury mutters under his breath while shoving Orion.
“Sutton in her office?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen and grab a sandwich baggie.
“Yeah, she had a few meetings today and some case came in that has her frazzled. She needs some time away where she’s not chained to that desk,” Pisces remarks as he joins us.
“Just a suggestion, but the weather is nice and I know you’ve been itching to spend some time with her without us around.
It may be a good idea to take her for a picnic or something. ”
“Or something?” I ask, snorting.
“Look,” Pisces sighs, “You three bozos don’t have a romantic bone in your bodies and every time I try to give y’all suggestions, you shut me down and laugh in my face. So fuck you all very much.”
I straighten my face and lose the amused look and glance over at him. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were so sensitive. None of us were ready to settle down before coming to Montana.”
“Speak for yourself,” Orion harrumphs. “I’m too young and far too handsome for one woman to handle. I’m gonna need a harem.”
I choke on my spit because he’s so full of shit he can’t see straight. “Man, what the fuck have you been smoking?”
“I don’t smoke, that shit gives you wrinkles,” Orion counters, glancing at Mercury before lifting his hand and drawing a streak down his face.
“Point made. Y’all could take some suggestions from me regarding your skin care too, just saying.
The sun isn’t always your friend. Sunscreen, brothers, sunscreen. ”
“Man, I’m gonna fuck you up if you touch me one more damn time,” Mercury threatens.
“Better grab your boots because you just stepped in some shit,” Pisces teases.
Orion lifts the bottoms of his jeans and shows us his feet. “Never leave home without them.”
“Okay, enough,” I say, playing peacekeeper because if I let them continue down this line, things are going to go from verbal sparring to fists being thrown. I spread the butts on the table and state, “Merc, I see teeth marks.”
“It’s him,” Mercury growls. “That dipshit has come onto our property and we were none the wiser.”
The door swings open as Rio, Riptide, LoneStar, and Gopher come strolling in. “What’s going on?” Riptide asks as the gang surrounds us.
“Someone breached our property, cut our lines, and has been staking out the place,” I tell him.
“Do we need to stick around?” Rio asks, his face a mask of conflict.
“Or,” LoneStar pipes in, saying, “you could bring Orbit here sooner than expected and have him set you up with a good security system.” It’s not a bad idea.
Up till now, Orbit has been communicating with us over the phone or through a chat but having him on the home front may be better than having him stay in his hometown.
I look over at Pisces and give him a silent order. “On it,” he says as he grabs his phone and heads out of the room to make the call and get him here sooner rather than later.