Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Icer
The zoo was exactly what Elodie needed as an escape to not think about the fact that Indiana was in the hospital being treated.
I had argued with Zoey when she told us to go, wanting to be there but when she pointed out that keeping my princess out from under foot would be the biggest help, I acquiesced and took her.
As we left the zoo, a phone call from Riptide came in telling me Indiana’s prognosis was good and he would make a full recovery.
Who knows, maybe a bump on his head will do him some good.
Now that we know Indiana is in good shape, we’ve gotten busy with the reconstruction of the main room and other areas that were damaged by the bomb.
Shade, Ozzie, Rebel, Renegade, and I have been scouting out the known hangouts of the Onyx gang members, therefore, we haven’t been around much during the daytime so the construction details have been left up to the others to decide.
I don’t give a damn what shade the walls are painted or what furniture goes in, as long as my club is still standing and my brothers are in one piece.
The days bleed into each other, and before I know it, the clubhouse has been put back to rights, Indiana is home and up to his normal, annoying bullshit—that bump didn’t give his personality a boost much to my prior wish that it would, and I’ve been spending my nights with Letti, who’s now living at my place which she thinks is one of the club’s safe houses.
What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I need her there even though I’m not sure why that is.
It’s strange to be sleeping in my guest bedroom, but the fact that she’s spread out between my sheets each and every night causes my body to hum in satisfaction.
Again, I’m not going to examine the reasons behind that, I’m just going to go with it.
She’s become my best friend even though she makes it her sole mission to yank my chain. I never know what’s going to come out of her mouth and I find myself excited to discover what it’ll be. I do things I know will get her going just to hear her sassy remarks.
When she gets riled up, she switches from English to Spanish and even knowing that nine-tenths of the time she’s calling me every kind of asshole under the sun, it still humors me.
We’ve been having a friend’s date every week, and tonight, I’m taking her to a new Mexican restaurant in town that the citizens have been raving about.
It’s a little out of the way, but I’m looking forward to it—if she’ll ever get home.
She’s late, and she’s never late so that has me pacing around the living room like a chicken with its head cut off, my imagination getting the better of me.
Flashes of her when we found her in that boiler room plague me.
“No. Nope. LoneStar is on Letti duty, he’d let me know if something happened to her,” I say, trying to convince myself.
Thankfully, her boss was updated by Slayer about what happened to her so he kept her position open for her instead of filling it.
I don’t like her working, I want to take care of her, but she told me a little about her background one night and I know she needs that independence so I’ve done something I’m not known for—keeping my cool and my caveman tendencies at bay.
I’m supposed to support her, not control her—I’m not now, nor will I ever be, my father.
I’m better than that, or at least, I wanna be.
His lessons were harsh, but I won’t let them define me.
Ever. As I continue to sweep the floors with my feet, headlights illuminate the driveway and pierce the living room with their beams.
“Finally,” I bark out as I head to the front door and fling it open. When I see the look on her face and notice LoneStar still on his bike with his phone glued to his ear, I know something’s up. “What happened?”
“That piece of shit deputy and one of his minions decided to pull me over and harass me,” she hisses like a scalded cat.
“What?” I ask, my tone going deadly. Crossing my arms across my chest, I continue asking my questions. “What was his reasoning for pulling you over in the first place?”
“He had some bullshit excuse,” she conveys.
“Said my headlights were dim. Since when does something like that catch their attention? And newsflash, Viking, they aren’t.
They’re LED and are blinding to anyone I’m behind or anyone I’m facing head on, if anything, the headlight association should be ripping them a new asshole. ”
Humor dances its way through me as I ask her, “Headlight association?” She always has this unique way of calming the raging beast inside of me with some of her quirkiness.
She places her hands on her hips and gives me a death stare. “Don’t fuck with me right now, Icer. I’m livid. Those pieces of shit left my car in disarray. They even disassembled my glove box without due cause. It takes money to fix shit like that.”
As she rants and raves, I walk out of the house and head toward her car where LoneStar is now taking photos. “What’s the damage?” When he looks up at me, I see nothing but anger staring back at me. “That bad, huh?”
“Worse,” he spits out. “I got it all on recording, Icer. I was ordered to stand down and let it play out. That’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I’m not sure what they damaged more, her property or her person.”
“They got rough with her?” I inquire, my entire being simmering with fury. She may not technically be mine, but to me, she is, and nobody is permitted to lay a damn finger on her, not even me. “Show me, LoneStar.”
“It ain’t pretty, Icer. They said some despicable, derogatory slurs,” he warns me before cueing up the video and handing it to me. “It still makes me sick to my stomach when I replay it in my mind.”
His words have my body vibrating as I press the play button.
My vision turns red the longer I watch them manhandle her and hear the nauseating things they say.
My stomach churns when it registers that this was most certainly race motivated, my kill mode is activated.
At first, I thought him harassing her would be about us and our declared war with Maloney’s kid, Jerome, the leader of the Onyx dipshits.
That may be a small part of it, but it’s not the key component—my earlier prediction, before I got my hands on LoneStar’s phone, couldn’t be further from the truth now that I’m watching the recording.
“Did you send this to Rip and Slayer?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“I forwarded it to them and Booker. Who’s anonymously sending it into the authorities,” he tells me.
“They are the authorities,” I remind him.
“But the Texas Rangers are higher up in ranking and supersede them, Icer,” he states. “Booker told me they’re already building a case against Maloney and his squad. The more evidence we can give them, the better and stronger their case gets. The sooner they can take his badge, the better.”
“It’s not going to be soon enough,” I forcefully point out. “How much more evidence do they need before they’ll step in and end his reign of terror?”
“That’s a good question and one I wish I had the answer for,” LoneStar states.
“Same, brother. Are you getting photo evidence of her car?” I ask, ready to wrap up this conversation so I can get inside and tend to Letti.
“Yes. I’m documenting everything, including the trash they tossed inside,” he informs me.
Clenching my fist, I ask, “Was it theirs?”
He nods his head, saying, “Yep. Every wrapper and wadded up piece of paper was theirs. She keeps her car pristine, brother.” There are reasons for that, but I’m not getting into it with him. It’s not my business to share.
Peering over the driver’s side door, I inquire, “Anything that’d incriminate them?”
“I’ll check once I’m done documenting everything. Go check on her, she took it hard when they started spewing their hate at her,” he recommends.
“That’s the plan,” I admit as I turn around on my feet and send him a salute over my shoulder.
When I breach the doorway, Letti is walking out, freshly showered.
She’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an overly large T-shirt that swallows her whole.
Upon closer inspection, I notice it’s one of mine and pride hits me square in the chest. She needed something of mine to comfort her through her emotional upheaval.
“Hope you’re not disappointed, Viking, but I don’t think I feel up to going out tonight,” she says, sighing.
“Not disappointed in the least, Letti. How about I order something for us to eat and we watch a movie in the living room? Maybe a comedy? We’ll kick up our feet and try to forget this day ever happened.”
“I don’t think I’ll forget this day for as long as I live,” she acknowledges, frowning. “I’ve had insults tossed at me my entire life, but never from a lawman.”
“People in authoritative positions can be just as cruel and supremacist as those who aren’t, Letti.
We’ve both seen that firsthand. Bullshit beliefs are spread far and wide, just because somebody swears to uphold the laws of man and be a protector for the people they serve, doesn’t mean they live up to the status quo of what we think that should be.
Maloney is a damn good example of that.”
“I know,” she whispers. “But it still hurts.”
“I know it does, Letti,” I affirm, keeping my tone calm and collected so she doesn’t see how I really feel about this entire thing.
I am homicidal.
Regrettably, I’m not good at this emotional shit, I never know the right things to say so I don’t know how to comfort her when she needs it most. Makes me wish I could kick my own ass for being so damn detached.
I begin envisioning stringing Maloney and his band of misfits up on my bike and pulling them down a rocky road.
Then I sigh when reality hits me. What I want to do and what I can do are two separate entities.
For the first time since joining the Kings, I’m livid that I have to put them first. But a promise is a promise and I took an oath the day I accepted the position of enforcer, so it’s one I won’t break no matter how tempted I am to do it.
“Can we still have Mexican food?” Letti asks, breaking me out of my fantasies.
“Yes, we can. The place I wanted to take you delivers. I’ll place an order for us while you go pick out a movie.”
“Sounds good. You know what I want, right?”
“Sure do. You mentioned it enough when I told you where we were going and you looked up their menu online. I’ve got this, go relax and put your feet up.”
“Thank you, Icer,” she mumbles, shuffling her feet.
“Viking,” I growl. “Remember, I changed my mind. Don’t like it when you call me what everyone else does.”
She giggles before skipping away, singing, “Icer. Viking. Icer. Viking. Kinda like them both.”
“Don’t push your luck, Letti, or I’ll order you a damn salad.”
She stops in her tracks and squints her eyes at me. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I shrug my shoulders and ask, “Is that a bet you’re willing to take?”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Viking. Remember, I’m the queen of paybacks.”
I internally chuckle, thinking, How could I? She’s gotten me good a few times. The minx.