Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
Slayer
Everything starts moving at a breakneck pace.
I followed through on my word, hiring a crew of movers to clear out Mrs. Jackman's place while I handled the fees for her lease termination.
After scouting out a nearby retirement complex via a digital walkthrough, I secured her a spot that offers plenty of social activities—something the old gal is actually eager to dive into.
We even managed to get in front of a judge for an expedited hearing, and it's official: I'm now the legal guardian for both Boston and Carolina.
Xavier and Grady have initiated a legal battle against that neglectful establishment on behalf of the kids.
Even if nothing else comes of it, the settlement from the litigation will provide a cushion for whatever their little one might need down the road.
It's not that I'm unable or unwilling to handle the financial burden myself, but this windfall will offer them a sense of independence.
I never want them to feel tethered or limited by my wallet if there are things they have their hearts set on.
Even though they’re grown, they still require a soft place to land and a hand to hold, especially since Boston still struggles with basic shit like buying his own damn clothes.
Plus, neither one of them can get behind the wheel of a bike or a cage because of their medical history.
Riptide gave me a shout and he wasn’t exactly polite about his order for me to haul ass back to Canton saying things at the compound have reached a boiling point.
They found Britton, but it turns out she’s got some obsessed freak breathing down her neck, a stalker who’s tied in with the same dragon assholes we’re currently at war with.
I’m currently heading up a convoy as we make our way back toward the compound.
Riptide was stretched too thin to send any brothers to act as an escort, so Xavier stepped in and provided a tactical team he keeps on retainer for high-stakes protection details.
I’m naturally on edge around outsiders, but Xavier’s word is bond, so I agreed to meet them.
After having Booker scrub their backgrounds and confirming they weren’t a threat, I brought them on to serve as a security detail for Boston and Carolina.
Mrs. Jackman is following behind in the moving truck, which is hauling her car as they go.
I’m not worried about her, those movers are the same ones who handled our transition from West Texas to our new home in Canton.
They’re pros who keep their mouths shut and focus on the task at hand.
Twilight bled into a dark sky as the convoy finally rolled onto the compound.
That heavy weight I’d been hauling in my neck and shoulders since I left started to melt away the moment the courtyard lights flickered into view and the gates hissed shut, locking the world out.
Riptide was there, flanked by Indiana, Icer, LoneStar, and Nova, all of them loitering outside of Jersey’s trailer as we pulled to a stop.
I barely had my kickstand down and my boots on the pavement before Rip was in my personal space.
Without a word of greeting, his fist connected with my jaw, the force of the blow sending me reeling back.
He leveled a finger at me, his voice a lethal snarl as he barked, “You rode alone!”
In the background, I hear Indiana wisecrack, “Uh oh. Mommy and Daddy are fighting.”
Riptide twirls around on his feet and narrows his eyes at Indiana, ordering, “Shut the fuck up. We don’t have time for your adolescent bullshit.”
A blur streaks past me, and I’m left standing there with my mouth hanging open as Boston launches himself into the air.
He connects with Riptide’s back and begins whaling on my president with everything he’s got.
“Don’t hit my Bubba!” he screams. I’m so damn stunned that my brain stalls out for a heartbeat before I can move.
Scrambling over, I dodge his flying limbs and finally manage to get a grip, snatching Boston around the middle and hauling him off Rip.
Leaning in, I murmur soft words against his ear, pleading for him to find his chill.
“I'm fine, Bubs. That punch barely even registered, he hits like a damn girl.” I make it a point not to blow smoke up my brother's ass, but the situation is dire and calls for some creative truth-telling.
“I went off script and broke the code, Boston. I had that coming.”
When Boston settles down, he harrumphs. “Nobody deserves to be hit, Bubba. That’s just mean.”
“It is,” I say, sighing. “But we’ve talked about this, Bubs. You have to remember our deal. When things get heavy or the noise gets to be too much, you and Carolina need to shut your eyes and block it all out.”
As I set him on his feet, he places his hands on his hips and glares at me. “I’ll never shut my eyes when someone hurts you. Never! You protect me and I protect you, that’s what brothers do, right?”
“I know,” I say, letting out a heavy breath. “But we’ve talked about this, Bubs, choices come with a price, and I went off script. I’m too old for a timeout or a spanking, and since I spooked Riptide by leaving the way I did, he dealt with me the only way he knew how.”
Boston raises his hand and cups the spot Riptide punched, swiping his thumb over it. “You have a red mark. He hit you hard. I don’t like him, Bubba.”
I drop to my haunches, forcing him to meet my gaze. “I'm good, Bubs. Do I look like I'm hurting? I swear, I'm alright. Rip is my brother, and when I hauled ass without giving him a heads-up, it scared him so damn much that he spent every minute I was gone on edge, and that fear turned into fury.”
“Then he should have used his words like you taught me how to do. You said that was being an adult, is your friend not a big boy like I am?” Boston asks.
Riptide, finally finding his composure, comes over and kneels down beside me, placing his hand on my shoulder and squeezing it.
“I am a big boy, but I acted like a mean guy, you’re right about that.
I’m sorry I scared you, and I should have used my words instead of my fist. I’m sorry I hit your brother.
” The way Riptide’s hand is clamped on my shoulder says he’s anything but sorry.
I know he and I will be going toe-to-toe later when Boston isn’t around.
Like I told my brother, I deserve it, I did break a rule, one that I helped set into place and I have to face the consequences for that.
The door to Jersey’s place opens and she steps out onto the porch, narrowing her eyes at the three of us. “What’s going on out here?”
“Just a misunderstanding,” I say, standing up and putting my eyes on her.
Fuck she’s beautiful. Her hair is hanging over her shoulders, shining in the moonlight.
She’s got on a pair of tight as hell jeans that hug all of her curves, causing my hands to itch with the need to run them over her hourglass frame.
“Bo Bo,” Carolina calls, her voice low and unsure. “Are you okay?”
Boston’s entire demeanor changes as he shifts his body and looks at her.
“I’m okay, Caro.” He leaves me like I’m a bad rash and rushes over to her, flinging his arm across her shoulder and dragging her into him.
“My brother and his friends are scary, and they don’t know how to use their words like big boys. ”
All of us watch the two of them converse.
It’s young and innocent, reminding me of better times before life got so damn chaotic and complicated.
“We can teach them,” she whispers. She eagerly nods her head as if she’s come to some sort of conclusion.
“Maybe they didn’t have good examples. We’ll show them how to be big and how to use their words. ”
“We’re good teachers,” Boston adds, grinning at me.
“Good,” Jersey states as she saunters over to us and smiles at the duo. “I’m the only teacher here and I could use a couple of helpers.”
“We can help!” Carolina shouts, clapping her hands.
“We like to help,” Boston adds, looking excited. “We’re good helpers, I promise.”
“I believe you,” Jersey tells them. “My name is Jersey and you’ll be staying with me.”
“We’re staying in your house?” Carolina asks, her eyes growing wide.
“You are,” Jersey confirms. “You have your own bedroom and I stocked the kitchen with lots of good snacks. Would you like to come see?”
“Yes,” they answer simultaneously, both of them bouncing on the balls of their feet as they rush to Jersey.
Jersey lifts her chin, those beautiful eyes narrowing into slits as she surveys the lot of us.
“Unload the kids’ things and get them inside,” she commands, her voice laced with that trademark sass.
“And for the love of everything holy, try acting like the grown-ass men you’re supposed to be while you’re at it.
” She taps two fingers against her eyes before leveling them at us, a silent promise that she’ll be tracking our every move.
I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips as I pivot on my boot heels, heading toward the rear of the SUV where Xavier’s tactical team is already in motion.
The guards keep their expressions schooled and professional, not offering a single word as they begin hauling luggage and crates out of the hatch and lining them up on the pavement for us to grab.
I make the rounds, introducing my club brothers to the newcomers as they approach.
Icer doesn’t bother helping with the heavy lifting, instead, he stands off to the side, arms crossed over his massive chest as he watches the men like a hawk.
“When the last of it is inside, I'm seeing them out of the compound,” he barks, his tone leaving no room for debate.
“I was gonna give them a beer before they leave, Icer,” I inform him.
Icer grunts and grinds his jaw. “There’s a bar down the road. I’ll send them with enough cash to enjoy themselves.”
“We’re grateful for the hospitality, but it's been a hell of a haul on the road. We’re gonna hit the motel and get some shut eye.
The pay was more than fair, so keep your cash,” Hank, the crew lead, informs me.
His team nods in silent agreement, so I exchange a final handshake and offer my thanks for the escort.
As I snag a suitcase and head for the door, I toss a quick nod toward Icer.
The man's got a good heart, he just needs to work on his bedside manner.
While we get the kids settled in, Boston never takes his eyes off Riptide, tracking him with a suspicious glare.
My president is gonna have to work double-time to win my brother over after that stunt.
That first encounter was a total clusterfuck, but I have faith that Boston will eventually see the man I do, one who's hard-headed and unyielding, but has a solid soul underneath it all.
A ghost of a grin tugs at Riptide’s mouth as he watches Boston trail behind Carolina as they turn the corner, heading to their room.
His suspicious gaze was locked onto us like a heat-seeking missile.
My president leans in and murmurs, “The only thing I regret is letting your brother witness me clocking you.”
“I get it,” I remark, letting out a heavy breath. “I don’t regret hauling ass to my brother, but I’m sorry I left the way I did.”
“Thought so,” he huffs, the irritation clear in his tone. “You wear the VP patch, Slayer. If you start ignoring the code, how the hell are we supposed to keep the rest of the brothers in line?”
“I fucked up, Rip. I’m not gonna blow smoke up your ass with excuses because I don’t have a good one to give. When that administrator called, I just reacted. Boston is my brother, and outside of this club, I’m the only blood he’s got left in this world.”
“As much as I don’t like it, I’m gonna have to use you as an example, Slayer. Church in the morning. Expect a verbal beatdown.”
“Wouldn't expect anything less,” I mutter, my voice tight. As he strides off the porch, I drop back onto the swing and take a long pull of my beer, the cold liquid doing nothing to soothe the tension. I knew there’d be hell to pay, and I knew he'd be beyond pissed, but being held up as a cautionary tale to the brothers is a bitter pill I’m not eager to swallow.