Chapter Ten
Hatch
I DRAGGED MYSELF up the stairs, hearing Maisie’s playlist playing quietly as I slipped into the bedroom, Air Supply filtering through the Bluetooth speaker.
She’d gone to bed an hour ago, and after the impromptu party at Katie’s, I was sure she’d be asleep by now.
However, when I slid under the covers, I had barely a minute before the song switched and she started singing along with one of her god-awful boy bands from the nineties.
“Jesus,” I hissed. “I just wanted to fuckin’ sleep, Sunshine, not have a disco dance party.”
She gasped. “Do not step to Gary Barlow like that.”
I rolled over to face her. “It’s two a.m.”
She threw her arms straight up. “And it’s Take That.”
“Take what now?”
“The band, Take That,” she bit out. “You know, Gary Barlow, Robbie Williams—”
“Woman!”
“Look, big man, I know you say that you have to die before me, but if, god forbid, that doesn’t happen, you’re going to wish for one of my epic disco dance parties, regardless of the time.”
“Margaret Gretchen Wickham Mann Wallace!” I growled, throwing the covers off her and sliding my hand under her shirt, rolling a nipple between my fingers. “You shut your goddamned mouth.”
She arched into my touch. “I will never shut my mouth when it comes to disco parties, Connor. And I’m changing my ringtone going forward.”
“That’s not what I’m talkin’ about.”
She smiled slowly. “I know.”
“Now, let’s talk about the disco dance party in my pants.”
She chuckled. “You’re not wearing pants.”
“I’m aware,” I growled, kissing my way down her body, and sliding her panties off.
* * *
The next afternoon, Maisie slid into my truck beside me and smiled. “I can hang back, love.”
I’d called an all-hands meeting at the new site, officers and patched members only, which she didn’t typically attend. But tonight, I needed her by my side.
I reached over and linked my fingers with hers. “I want you there, baby. I want to know you’re close to me.”
She squeezed my hand. “Whatever you need, darling.”
“Do you have everything?”
“You packed the truck, love. Do you think we missed anything?”
I chuckled. “There’s enough food here for you to cook for an army, which boggles my fuckin’ mind because you just made a Costco run.”
“We needed fresh meat,” she said.
“Oh, fresh meat,” I droned sarcastically. “Fine. We also packed more bags to stock our little apartment. I think we’re good. Did you grab your laptop?”
“It’s in the back with your cut.” She frowned.
“What?”
“I hate that you have to hide who you are.”
“It’s not forever, Sunshine,” I avowed, hitting the garage door opener and starting the truck.
We headed out of our neighborhood, making our way through the backroads into Ridgefield and that’s when I noticed the same car more than twice. I swore.
“What’s wrong?” Maisie asked.
“We’ve got a tail.”
“Bloody hell,” she bit out. “What do you want me to do?”
“Call Flea and see who’s close. I’m going to give them a little wild goose chase.”
While Maisie called my Sergeant, I turned toward Battle Ground, leading the car away from the compound.
It continued to follow me, which wasn’t good.
Maisie gave Flea all of the car’s information, including color, make, plates, and a basic description of the driver…
at least what she could get without turning around to look.
We didn’t want to spook the asshole, but I was pretty sure he knew he’d been made.
When I pulled down the dirt road leading to one of our grow houses, I passed a van hidden on my left and a dark sedan hidden on my right. I hit the button to open the gates in front of me and the second I was through, the car (stupidly) followed, as did my brothers.
The gates closed behind us, and I slid my gun out of my holster, sliding out of my truck. “Hunker down, Sunshine. Do not get out until I come for you,” I ordered.
“If you get shot, I will maim you,” she said, as she slid to the floorboard.
“Noted.” I slammed the truck door and made my way to the car.
Train already had the driver out and down on the ground. The kid was young, and he was wearing a Spiders’ Prospect cut that was at least two sizes too big for him with no name badge on it.
“Jesus, he’s a child.” I sighed, sliding my gun back into my holster. I stood over him. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Fuck you,” he spat out, and Train shoved his boot harder into his back. It’s not like he could go anywhere. Train had his hands and feet zip-tied, and then he’d hogtied him for double protection.
“Your name’s fuck you?” I narrowed my eyes. “What is that, French?”
Booker held the driver’s phone up to his face to unlock it and grinned. “Well, lookie here. Such a wealth of information.”
“You picked the wrong club, little man,” Train spat out, training his gun at his head.
“I think you picked the wrong club, mother fucker.”
I had to give it to him, he had fight.
“Big words for such a tiny little boy,” Booker hissed.
“What do you want us to do with him, Prez?” Rooster asked. “I vote we get rid of him.”
“Don’t you dare hurt that boy,” Maisie hissed as she rushed toward us.
“I told you to stay in the truck,” I growled.
“Let him up, Train,” Maisie ordered, and Train looked at me not sure what to do.
I scowled at my wife, and my tone was one of irritation as I bit out, “Maisie.”
She scowled right back. “Connor.”
With a reluctant grunt, I gave Train a nod and he helped the kid up off the ground, keeping his beefy hand wrapped around his arm.
“What’s your name, kid?” I asked.
“None of your fuckin’ business.”
“Wrong answer,” Train growled, squeezing his arm, eliciting a quiet squeal from the boy.
“Be gentle, love,” Maisie said, stepping closer to him.
I took her arm gently and pulled her back. “I swear to Christ, woman, stop moving.”
“I’m fine, Hatch,” she said tugging her arm away and facing him. “Darling, what’s your name? No one here will hurt you, but we need to know who you are.”
“And if you tell her to fuck off, even she won’t be able to save you,” I warned.
“Kieran,” he grumbled.
“Hello, Kieran, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Maisie.”
“Jesus,” I hissed. “This isn’t a garden party.”
“I promise, these men will not hurt you. May I please ask, in return, that you promise not to hurt them?” Maisie asked in that way that only Maisie could.
Snake charming’s for amateurs. Maisie could charm bikers, gun runners, drunkards, thieves, and rogues of every stripe.
This kid never stood a chance. Kieran nodded.
“Thank you, love. Now, did the Spiders send you out to follow us?” she asked.
“I’m not talkin’ to you about my club’s business,” he replied.
Maisie shot me a look and muttered, “Reminds me of someone I know.”
“Shit, boy, that’s the kind of club you run with? The kind that sends little boys out to do their dirty work?” Rooster ground out.
“Or do they even know you’re out here?” I deduced. “I don’t even think the Spiders have prospects as young as you. Is that what it is? You stole that cut to prove to the club you got the balls to be a member?”
Kieren dropped his head, and I knew I’d hit paydirt.
“We should kick this kid’s ass just to show him what club life’s really all about,” Flea said. “We can show him what it’ll be like when he gets jumped in by the Spiders.”
“You will not touch one hair on this boy’s head,” Maisie snapped, smacking Flea’s arm. “What the hell is wrong with you? You have children!”
“Per usual, the lady wife is right. This fish is a little too small, we gotta throw him back. Leave his car here, give him a lift and drop him off in Spider friendly territory.”
“But before you do, take him to get something to eat first,” Maisie added. “The poor thing is rail thin.”
“Just ’cause you’re bein’ nice to me don’t mean my club ain’t gonna kick your ass,” Kieran snapped at Hatch.
“Kid, this ain’t me bein’ nice,” I said with a laugh. “This is me just bein’ decent. Maybe one day, you’ll be a man and know the difference.”
“I am a man,” Kieran countered.
“No, you’re a punk kid in stolen clothes who can barely see over the steering wheel and if the roles were reversed and one of my kids had fallen into the hands of the Spiders, do you think they’d be treating them like we’re treating you?”
“No,” he reluctantly conceded.
“Then how about you think about that while you grow up?” I suggested. “Now, let my guys take you to get somethin’ to eat. I sincerely hope I never see you around in Spiders’ colors again.”
* * *
Rooster
Flea left with Hatch and Maisie, leaving Train and I to babysit ‘Baby Driver.’
“I have to head downtown anyway, so we’ll hit the Derby’s over by the clinic,” I suggested.
“You just want an excuse to see Katie,” Train said with an irritated snort as he threw the kid into the backseat of the van and slid in beside him.
I grinned. “Okay, that might be true, but the downtown Derby’s is the best one in town.”
“He’s right,” Kieran said. “They give you extra-large sauce packets without having to ask, and the girls that work there are hot.”
“See, even the kid says so,” I said.
“I told you, I’m not a kid,” he protested.
“Oh, yeah? How old are you?”
“I’m fifteen.”
Train and I burst out in laughter.
“You’re right,” I said, in between fits. “You’re not a kid. You’re a goddamned infant.”
“Fuck both of you,” Kieran said.
“Hey, kid. I admire your moxy, but have you ever heard the expression about not biting the hand that feeds?”
“Have you ever heard the expression about not biting my dick when you blow me?” Kieran fired back.
Train laughed so hard I thought he was gonna piss his pants and drive us off the road and into a ditch.
“Okay, you little court jester,” I said, turning to Kieran. “Let me ask you a serious question. Why the hell do you want to patch in with the Spiders? You got an older brother in the club or something?”
“Why did you join a club?” he asked. “To meet guys?”
I shook my head. “First of all, don’t be phobic, secondly, I asked you first.”
“I like bikes,” he replied.