Chapter Eight
Raider
I look back and forth between Pecker Head, our prospect, and Blender, not at all surprised by what just happened.
I shake my head as I pat him on the back and go inside, not thinking twice about the woman I left in the shadows.
I know I gave Pecker Head an order that he will follow.
The great room is quieter than normal as everyone is out back around a fire trying to wrap their heads around the loss of Auntie Lynn.
Going to the bar, I wave Charlie down needing a drink. She comes to me with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes.
“Well, hello there, Prez, it’s good to see you finally made it back,” she chirps.
“Just get me a drink,” I grumble, trying not to take my rising frustration out on her
“Will it be your usual then?” she questions at the same time she turns to walk away.
I don’t acknowledge her, instead looking down at my phone, scrolling through the never-ending notifications. A small hand lands on my back before running up to wrap over my shoulder.
“Good evening, Prez,” Ivy purrs into my ear.
Shaking her off, I tell her, “Not tonight.”
Charlie sets my drink down in front of me with a thunk, bringing my eyes up to her.
What I find doesn’t shock me at all. She is glaring at Ivy as if trying to kill her with a single look.
The door slides open, and I fight every cell in my body not to turn and see who is coming through it knowing exactly who it is when Charlie’s eyes go wide at the same time Ivy moves closer as if to stake a claim on me.
Which tells me Pecker Head has finally brought Anastasia inside.
“Hi sweetheart, are you lost? How did you get past the front gate?” Charlie asks, concern written all over her face.
“Oh, I was brought here with my son. Twitch, I think his name was, drove us here and I guess I passed out in the car. I woke and Raider told Pecker Head to show me where to go.” Anastasia steps up to the far side of the bar, putting as much space between us as possible.
“Something happened, and I think everyone forgot I was out there waiting. So, I decided I would come in and ask to see my son and be shown where I’m to stay. ”
Charlie looks from her to me and back. “Well, I’m not sure about all that. Prez, can you help us out here?”
Swallowing the fire and hate-filled words I want to scream at her, instead I swallow my drink and stand hollering, “Anvil.”
He comes through the door from the backyard, beer in hand. “What’s going on, Prez?”
“I need you to figure out where the fuck Pecker Head has gone,” I snap at him, my patience with it all nearly at its boiling point.
“Yes, sir,” he says before walking away and going in search of the man.
Turning back to Anastasia, I look her up and down, my gut tightening when I’m able to see her full state. She is covered in soot. Her clothes are dirty and even have some small holes. Her feet are bare, hair is wild, and her eyes are puffy from crying.
“I’ll show you to your son and where you can get cleaned up.” I wave for her to follow me.
I don’t wait to see if she’s following me across the room because everyone is watching us with curious looks, trying to figure out who this woman is to me and the club.
As we make it into the hallway, the door at the very end opens, and out steps the kid.
He looks around nervously, and just like the first time I saw him, my heart stutters to a stop when eyes exactly like mine land on me.
Anastasia pushes past me, rushing to him.
I stop mid-step, watching them closely. She wraps him in a hug before pulling back and searching him for any kind of injury.
They stand there talking quietly to each other until I clear my throat, reminding them I’m standing there
Anastasia turns, putting herself between the boy and me with a look that tells me one wrong step, and she’ll do her best to destroy me.
“There are a couple of rules we’ll need to go over. The biggest thing for tonight is that you’ll stay in your rooms until someone comes to get you,” I tell them.
With every word that comes out of my mouth, I watch as Anastasia’s body goes tighter and tighter.
“Are you telling me we’re prisoners here?” She demands.
“Ma, stop,” I hear her son whisper. “It’s going to be okay.”
“You should listen to your boy, Tasia. It won't do you any good to throw a tantrum like a fucking child.”
She processes my words, and the look she gives me when she speaks isn’t one I thought she would ever point in my direction. “You would know what acting like a child is, wouldn’t you? Some of us had to grow up, be adults, and be responsible.”
Her words don’t make sense, and before I can even start a rebuild, she pushes her son into the room he came out of and slams it closed behind her.
Her words stir something in my memory. A night only about a month before she disappeared.
There was a party here at the club. My brother, who was a new member, had invited me and my best friends to a hang-around party.
We showed up, and it was unlike anything I could have imagined as a fresh-faced twenty-year-old kid.
I’d tried everything I knew to convince Anastasia to come with me that night, but she refused.
Finding her little sister there was a shock in so many ways.
Shea was barely eighteen and hanging all over guys who could have easily been twice or better her own age.
When I came around the corner, her eyes zeroed in on my group.
She came bouncing over to us with a sloppy smile on her face.
There isn’t much more I remember about that night.
I woke up in a bed with Shea draped over my chest and a sick feeling in my gut.
I’m so lost going down memory lane I don’t notice Terro until I run right into him as he comes from the direction of our offices.
“Shit, man, you good?” His thick drawl drags every word out.
When I open my mouth to tell him I’m all good, that is not what comes out. “Fuck no, I’m not good.”
He doesn’t say a word, just turns and goes back up the hallway to stand beside my office door.
Following him, I unlock the door, letting us both in.
Terro goes to the fridge I keep stocked with drinks and other stuff.
I make my way into the room, and I’m too keyed up to sit in the chair, so I lean against my desk.
Terro hands me a beer before taking the seat to my right, in front of my desk.
“Who is this woman? She’s got you so fucking tore up I’m worried you’re on the verge of pulling a Blender and coming fucking unglued,” Terro finally states, always blunt and observant.
“Where the fuck would you like me to fucking start?” I’m pacing the small room now.
“Start where she became my best friend? Or how about when I fell so in love with her no one else in the world mattered? Oh, I know! The day I showed up at her parents’ and then at Auntie Lynn’s trying to find her—only to realize she was gone. ”
The anger of that day still burns like acid in my stomach.
“That explains why you had us bring her here. What that doesn’t explain is the boy,” Terro wonders.
“Exactly. Where the hell does he come into play?” Throwing my hands up, I start my pacing again. “We never slept together. My eye combination is rare, and it seldom is passed on to a child. Not only that, the kid is my fucking twin!”
“Is there any way at all?” Terro asks. “Is there anyone else?”
I start to shake my head and then freeze with a dawning horror.
“Raider, brother, fucking sit down. You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost,” Terro snaps, pulling me down into the chair he has just vacated.
I drop my head into my hands, my head spinning.
“So, there is someone?” he whispers.
“Shea,” comes out on an exhale.
“Who the fuck is Shea?” Terro asks.
Standing quickly, I snatch my office door open. “Hermes,” I holler out.
Just as I thought would happen, his office door pops open with a look of concern written across his face. “Yes, Prez?”
“Get in here and bring a laptop,” I snap.
Hermes nods quickly before disappearing back into his office. When he reemerges with his laptop, Remedy, Rhino, and Blitz come around the corner with looks of concern.
“Prez, we’ve got an issue at the gate,” Rhino speaks first.
“What’s happened?” I snap, making my way over to them.
“Jose Alfaro is at the gate,” Remedy growls, shifting from side to side oddly keyed up.
“Why is the fucking Alfaro Cartel knocking on our door?” Terro asks the million-dollar question.
“I guess there is only one way to find out. Get Mercy and Anvil,” I start giving orders. “Get all the women inside and out of sight. We don’t know what this asshole could want, but we all know women and coke are his number one sealer.”
Everyone moves to do as I tell them, with the brothers who are left following me out front.
We take up a stance just outside the door before letting the prospect know he is good to let our guest through the gate.
They roll into the parking lot with three cherry-red Cadillac SUVs, trimmed in gold, with large gaudy wheels and windows so dark there is no way they can see out of them after dark.
Mercy and Anvil come around the corner of the bar with AR15s strapped across their chests.
As soon as the three vehicles come to a stop, the doors of the front SUV and back SUV fly open and men file out, creating a barer around the middle one.
The doors open and out slides Jose Alfaro.
He turns back, holding out his hand. A delicate hand with bright red nails slides into his just before the person follows.
The person to slide out of the SUV is none other than the witch herself, Shea Austin.
“Jose, to what do we owe the pleasure?” I drawl, stepping forward with a hand out.
Jose steps forward, taking my hand. “Hola, mi amigo. It’s good to see you.”