Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
brONWYN
“I’m really sorry.” I bite my lip and look at the supervisor I report to.
“No, no. Don’t apologise. It does leave us short, but I completely understand. Of course, you need to get home to help your dad. Don’t forget, doctors are terrible at doctoring themselves. If you think you should bring him into the hospital, do.”
I feel absolutely awful having to lie, especially when she shoos me off, telling me to just get my stuff and go. She’ll find someone to take over what I had been in the middle of doing.
I just hope I haven’t sunk my chances of becoming a registered nurse, and they’ll never follow up to check whether my dad’s really been in an accident. That lame excuse was the only thing I could come up with.
When Short had called, his tone had scared me.
He hadn’t gone into details, except to reassure me that Trip was fine, and the urgency with which I was needed at the clubhouse had nothing to do with him.
All he would tell me was that I needed to get to the clubhouse now.
There was something in his voice, as if it were a matter of life and death, that caused me to obey and not argue.
I suppose someone had been hurt and needed me to treat them.
Instead of waiting outside the entrance door as usual, when I exited the elevator on the ground floor, I found Knight waiting for me inside.
I noticed immediately how his face was drawn tight, and didn’t miss the tension in his body as he continually scanned the parking lot, looking side to side, in front, and swivelling to glance behind as he escorted me from the entrance to my car.
He stood guard while I fastened my seatbelt.
Then he brought his bike up behind my car and followed me closely to the compound.
Trip was supposed to be going there with Short today, so I was looking forward to seeing him, after I’d dealt with whatever emergency I’d been called back for.
What I didn’t expect, as I drove through the gates, was to see Trip, Pippa, and Trixie getting out of a car just in front of me.
Nor the way Knight jumped off his bike and ran back fast to secure the gates.
When I parked the car, I brushed past Heathen and went to intercept Pippa.
She’s busy rounding up Trip and the club girl, and it’s then that I note Heathen has taken up a position behind us all, trying to quicken us up as he ushers us into the clubhouse.
“We’ve got to get inside,” she tells me, casting an anxious look back at the gates, which Knight is standing behind, looking outward, as if he’s on sentry duty.
“What’s going on?” I ask, after satisfying myself, Trip’s absolutely fine, even holding Trixie’s hand as he trots along with her into the clubhouse.
Pippa glances at me, and for a moment, I think she’s going to ignore my question, then she relents. “From the way Knight’s barred the gate, I suspect there’s a threat to the club.”
She hurries away from me, and I hold back on asking her anything, realising, if she’s right, a pregnant woman is best to be out of sight.
Following her inside, wondering if she’s right and that’s why Short asked me to come here, I look around. I can’t see anyone bleeding out or in need of urgent medical attention. It must be that Trip’s here. That has to be the reason Short called me in.
Unless, the answer hits me, and I run to catch up with her to ask, “Is it something to do with my dad?” From Short’s conversation with me, I know Dad has connections with the Kings’ enemy. Is he using them to find me and Trip? Have I brought trouble to the MC?
She shakes her head and offers no answer.
I can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t want to or if she just doesn’t know, and I don’t have a chance to question her further.
Saint appears at a fast pace, sweeping her into his arms and giving her the kind of display of affection I’ve come to expect from them.
As I turn my head away, feeling they need some privacy, my eyes fall on the man just entering the room. It’s Short.
Like a magnet, I’m drawn toward him, giving him a visual examination as I approach. He’s uninjured and standing. Relief sweeps through me.
“What’s going on?” I ask him, but they’re the only words I can get out. He’s as pleased to see me as I am him, and demonstrates it as if he’s copying Saint. My face is burning when he finally lets go of me. Then I discover he’s only released me as Trixie’s approaching with Trip.
Immediately, Short gets down to his level.
“How are you, buddy? Did you have a good time with Heathen, Trixie, and Pippa?” I suddenly realise my son’s holding something.
On closer examination, I see it’s a motorcycle made up of building bricks.
Short chuckles. “Heathen did good, didn’t he, buddy? Did you build that all by yourself?”
Trixie’s still standing next to us. “Actually, Short, he did most of it.” She ruffles Trip’s hair, a gesture easily given to any normal kid, but being Trip, I expect him to flinch. Instead, there’s no reaction. “You’re a clever little man, aren’t you?”
“Hey, Trip. You gonna say hi to your momma?” Short asks him.
Then, to me, he finally explains. “I had to come to the club today, so Heathen, Pippa, and Trixie went to our house to keep Trip entertained.” He casts a look down, then grins.
“Doesn’t seem to have harmed him any. Trip, where’s Momma’s hello? ” he asks again.
I soften my face and smile at him, not expecting anything, but suddenly Trip looks up at me. It’s more than enough that he acknowledges my presence, and when Short had said, “Momma”, he knew it meant me.
“You’ve had a good day, haven’t you, Trip?
” It still seems unfamiliar talking to him as if he can understand.
For eight years, I’ve been told he doesn’t catch on to anything.
But as he dips his head up and down, my heart clenches.
He’s given me an answer. Whatever’s going on, I couldn’t be happier right now.
But reality starts to sink in. I’ve never seen the clubhouse this crowded before. It wasn’t just me who was called in. Crouching, holding on to Trip, I look up at Short. “What’s going on?” I ask him for the second time.
Instead of answering, Short kneels beside us, talking to Trip instead of me. “Buddy, I think Trixie’s going to bake more cookies. Why don’t you go with her into the kitchen and help?”
Then he looks up and beckons the named club girl back. “You’re going to bake cookies, aren’t you, Trix?”
Cottoning on immediately, she grins at Trip. “Yeah, and I need a test taster. You up for it, Trip?”
Seems he must be, as he stands and happily goes with her.
Short gets to his feet, and I rise with the help of his offered hand. “Over here,” he says, leading me to a table in the corner of the room. He beckons one of the other club girls over. “Get my ol’ lady a vodka tonic and bring me a beer.”
“I need alcohol for whatever you’re going to tell me?” I raise my eyebrows.
He just stares at me for a moment. Seconds turn into a full minute, and I shift in my seat, suspecting I won’t like hearing what he has to say, when he finally begins to talk.
The club girl, Heaven, I think her name is, has returned with our drinks, delaying him again.
He takes a long sip of his beer, then reaches over the table to take my hand.
“Your fuckin’ dad set something in motion that can’t be stopped.”
My eyes go wide. After a moment, I snarl at him, “No one’s getting their hands on Trip.”
His brows rise so high it’s almost comical.
“Bron, darlin’, no.” He shakes his head as if to clear it, and looks like he’s mentally backing up.
“No one’s touching our boy.” While it’s the wrong time, my heart skips a beat at his use of the possessive pronoun.
“Even if I, or any member of my club, could deign so low as to agree to that, it wouldn’t solve the problem now.
Doc threw his hat in with the Mojave Devils, though I doubt he knew what he was getting into.
They used him to get information on the club.
” He breaks off and waves his hand around the room. “Notice how full the club is tonight?”
Following the line of his hand, I realise that since we’ve been talking, even more people have come in.
There’s Ace, Freak’s son, and an older woman I don’t recognise, hovering around Words.
There’s also a young girl, holding tight to the hands of a nervous-looking woman who looks to be in her thirties.
“We’re on lockdown,” Short states. “Everyone important to the club is being brought in so they can be protected.” He points to the old lady. “That’s Words’ mom, and the woman and kid? Well, they’re Paint’s sister and niece. There may be more coming in. Kings always protect any family at risk.”
“And you’re protecting them from what?”
He takes a deep breath, then gives me an assessing look as if wondering how I’m going to react to what he’s going to say.
That he reaches out and takes hold of my hand is telling.
Finally, he enlightens me. “War’s coming, courtesy of the Mojave Devils.
And it wouldn’t matter whether or not we gave up Trip.
They’d still come. Trip’s just the icing on the cake.
They want our territory and us out of it, preferably dead. ”
War. For a moment, my heart stops beating in my chest. When it restarts with a thump that causes me to take a deep breath, I use the air I’ve taken in to ask, “Wouldn’t Trip and I be safer if we were away from here?
” I’ve spent too long ignoring my son, and now I’m going to take full responsibility for him.
Even if it means I’d be losing the man I’m starting to think I’m in love with to an unknown fate.
That thought, though, makes my stomach want to rebel. “Couldn’t you come away with us?”