Chapter Thirty
Spike
Max is gone. I haven’t seen or heard from him in weeks, but something about the way he left doesn’t sit right with me. His actions aren’t adding up.
“Have you found anything, Foster?” I ask, pacing the room.
Foster is now an official brother. To make the ruling legit, I had the officers vote to allow him to skip the prospect stage before fully initiating him in. It was a unanimous decision. Foster was voted in as an officer. Security and tech expert.
“Not yet,” he admits. “I’ve got feelers out, but it’s like he vanished into thin air. However…” He pauses, glancing down at his laptop. “I did find something interesting. Did you know his mother was working with Los Fantasmas?”
A sharp inhale from the doorway makes my head snap up.
Abby stands there, her face pale, her wide eyes filled with something close to fear.
“You okay, squirt?” I ask, my voice gentler now.
“Did you just say Los Fantasmas?” she whispers.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Tank growls, stepping up beside her. His protective instincts are on full display, but she doesn’t so much as glance his way.
“Los Fantasmas?” she repeats, her voice stronger now, as if just saying the name steels her resolve.
“Yeah,” Foster confirms, earning a glare from Tank. “Do you know them?”
Abby swallows hard. “I was kidnapped by one of their factions. Held hostage for a long time.”
A dark rage simmers in my gut as I close the distance between us, pulling her into my arms. “They’re all dead,” I remind her. “They can’t hurt you anymore, Abby.”
She exhales shakily against my chest but doesn’t relax. “You took out one faction, Spike. Just one. Los Fantasmas is the most powerful and influential Cartel in Mexico.” She lifts her head, her eyes locking onto mine. “They’re called the Ghosts for a reason.”
A heavy silence falls over the room.
“Does this mean Max is working for them, too?” Knuckles asks, his voice low.
“I don’t think so,” I say, stepping from Abby and gently shoving her into Tank’s arms. “Take her home.”
Tank doesn’t hesitate, guiding her from the room while she shoots me one last worried glance before the door closes behind them.
I exhale sharply, running a hand down my face. “Max said he hopes one day we’ll understand why he betrayed us,” I remind them. “But think about it. He saved Riley and handed us Chuck on a silver platter. His actions don’t fucking add up.”
“Maybe it has something to do with his mother,” Maverick suggests, leaning forward. “Where does she live?”
“As of two years ago? Nowhere,” Foster says. “She vanished. I can’t even confirm if she’s still alive.”
I let out a frustrated sigh and drop into my chair, rubbing at the tension building in my temples.
“Until we find Max and get some goddamn answers, there’s nothing we can do,” I admit. “But there’s something else. He also warned us not to trust Billy. If Max has ties to Los Fantasmas, then I’d bet my last dollar my damn cousin does, too.”
The room tenses at that.
“Until we get this shit figured out, we’re not accepting any jobs that take us across the border,” I say firmly.
Bones shifts beside me, arms crossed. “We already have weapons cleaned and ready to deliver,” he reminds me. “Runner and his team are set to leave tomorrow. It’s a two-hour ride to Tijuana before they head into Mexicali.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, sitting up. I’d been so focused on Max that I’d completely forgotten.
“Alright,” I say, jaw tightening. “Warn them of the increased risk. Anyone who wants to back out has the option. If we don’t have enough people to make the run safely, we’ll handle it ourselves.”
A few nods around the room, but the tension lingers.
What the hell has Max gotten himself involved in?
“I need someone running the tattoo shop,” I say. “They don’t need to be an artist. I just need someone to manage the store.”
“Mike can do it,” Knuckles says. “He told me that Max was training him to do piercings.”
“I’ll talk to him,” I nod. “I don’t want him piercing anything unless he’s fully and legally certified. Luckily, the shop is already fully staffed. Next up, Riley and Abby want a pool. The contractors are breaking ground next Wednesday. I need the shit out back cleared away.”
“Fuck yeah,” Skip shouts. “I knew that woman was gonna make this place better. She wouldn’t happen to want us to start a strip club, would she?”
Bones snorts. “Wishful thinking, brother.”
Knuckles shakes his head. “You just want an excuse to spend more time around naked men and women.”
Skip grins. “Like I need an excuse.”
I roll my eyes. “Let’s focus, yeah? Pool first. No strip club.”
Skip sighs dramatically. “Fine, but if she ever changes her mind, I’m just saying…Skip’s Sinful Sanctuary has a nice ring to it.”
“Good heavens,” Maverick mutters.
Ignoring him, I turn my attention back to Knuckles. “Talk to Mike. Make sure he’s comfortable running the shop for now. If he wants the position long-term, we’ll look into getting him certified. In the meantime, we keep things running as usual.”
I glance around the room. “Any other business?”
“Nope,” Bones says, standing. “Unless you want to finally admit that Riley is turning this place into a goddamn resort.”
I smirk. “And what’s wrong with that?”
He grumbles something under his breath, but there’s no real heat behind it.
Meeting adjourned. Time to get back to my wife and son.
***Riley***
When Skip said a party, I thought there would be a dozen people here, maybe two dozen. But as I look around at the sea of bikers and their families, there have to be well over a hundred people here. Probably closer to two.
But, on every face is laughter as Skip tells one of his wild, and I’m sure untrue, stories.
Well, everyone but Bones. I’m not even sure that man has teeth.
“Congrats, little bit.”
Gasping at the sound of a familiar voice, I turn and slam my body against Patch in the best hug I can muster.
“You came.”
“I did, but I’m leaving,” he says, hugging me back. “I just wanted to stop by to show my support.”
“I know this isn’t your scene,” I smile up at him. “But I’m so happy you came. Even if it is for a few simple minutes.”
“This is the only time you are allowed to hold my wife like that,” Spike says, pulling me from my new best friend’s arms. “Glad to see you, brother.”
“You too,” he laughs. “I’m actually leaving, though. Got you both a gift.”
He hands me a book and I read the title: How to Survive Marriage to a Hardheaded Biker: A Guide for the Brave (or the Crazy).
I barely get through the title before bursting into laughter. Spike, however, is less amused.
He glares at Patch, crossing his arms over his chest. “Really?”
Patch smirks. “Figured she could use all the help she can get.”
Skip, of course, chooses this moment to walk by and glance at the book. “Oh, hell yeah, I need a copy of that. Living with you, even one house away, is probably worse than being married to you.”
Spike’s glare intensifies. “You want to test that theory?”
Skip takes a step back, hands raised. “Hey, I’m just saying, man. We all know you’re stubborn as hell.”
Patch chuckles. “Exactly why I got the book.”
I lean into Spike’s side, still giggling. “You know, I might actually read this.”
“Read it out loud,” Skip suggests. “We can all take notes.”
“That’s it.”
Spike lunges, but Skip is already running, cackling like the menace he is.
Best. Family. Ever.
“Thank you,” I smile, stealing another hug. “Will you come back for a visit when it isn’t so hectic?”
“Of course,” he smiles. “Until next time, little bit.”
“Bye, Patch.”
With a kiss to the top of my head, he walks away.
What’s his story? Why doesn’t he want to be around the people who care about him?
“I said I was fucking sorry,” Skip yells. “She doesn’t have to read it out loud. We’ll all just take turns.”
“Someone give me a fucking gun,” Spike growls.
Shaking my head, I walk over to Abby.
“He’s loving the attention,” she tells me with a nod at Asher. Currently, Runner is holding him and glaring at everyone who tries to take him away.
“That boy is going to be spoiled rotten, and there isn’t a thing I can do about it,” I sigh. “Anyway, look at the gift Patch gave me.”
I hand Abby the book, and, as expected, she laughs.
She flips through the pages, a grin spreading across her face. Then, with a dramatic clearing of her throat, she reads aloud.
“Step one: Never let them believe they are the boss.” She pauses, glancing at me with a wicked grin. “Bossy bikers, while great in bed, have fragile egos. To control them, let them think they’re the ones in charge, but always be ready to remind them who really holds the reins.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Well, I’m pretty sure I already know that.”
Abby continues reading, her voice getting a little more dramatic. “Step two: Don’t let them make the decisions. The less they decide, the less they can mess things up.” She smirks at me. “I think this one was written just for Spike.”
Spike glares across the room, catching my eye. “You better not be reading that shit out loud, woman.”
I smile innocently and shrug. “It’s great advice. Especially since you guys are always so bossy.”
Abby flips another page, reading, “Step three: They can’t resist when you call them out in front of their brothers. Public humiliation works wonders.”
“That’s just mean,” I laugh.
“I’m gonna shoot that fucker,” Spike growls.
The book then moves from hand to hand as biker after biker and their families take turns reading something out loud.
This isn’t the wedding party every little girl dreams about. This isn’t the family everyone wishes to be part of. But I couldn’t imagine a better group to call my own.
Laughter fills my ears as everyone takes turns reading ridiculous passages from the book, each one more outlandish than the last. Skip makes sure to read the most embarrassing ones loud enough for the entire group to hear, while Bones just sits quietly, clearly enjoying the chaos.
Spike glares at the crowd, but I can see the corners of his lips twitching, fighting back a smile. As much as he tries to act tough, he loves the camaraderie of his brothers.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Spike says, but his voice is more amused than angry. “Let’s just get to the damn cake before Skip starts reading about ‘how to keep your biker in check.’”
I smirk up at him. “I think you secretly want to read that part,” I tease. “Maybe you have a humiliation kink.”
Spike just shakes his head, pulling me closer and lowering his voice. “I’d rather be humiliated by you any day, baby.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. “I’ll try my best to make that happen as often as possible.”
The night goes on, filled with laughter, teasing, and joy, the kind of chaos only a family like this can create. Sure, it’s not a traditional wedding or family get-together, but as I look around at the people I care about, the ones who have my back no matter what, I realize this is perfect.
It’s my perfect.
And as Spike steals our son from another biker, wraps an arm around me, and talks to his brothers, I know he feels the same way.
“I love you,” I say when there’s a break in conversation. “Thank you for saving us. Thank you for taking on my crazy. Thank you for taking such a huge risk.”
Spike’s hold tightens as he smiles down at me.
“Wouldn’t change a damn thing,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head.
Neither would I.
As the noise of laughter and the smell of leather surrounds us, I realize that in this wild, imperfect life, I’ve found exactly where I belong.
The End