Chapter Twenty-Five
King
“Bellie, wait,” Jingles called out to his sister, but Ryder was right. They couldn’t do this out here. They both needed time to come to grips with finding each other.
Jingles was one of the best brothers I had. He was smart, he was cunning, and he was deadly.
But he was also stupid.
I knew about his family. When he joined the Silver Shadows in Arkansas, he told me about the little sister he left behind. I also knew Nav had been keeping track of her, but Jingles didn’t want to know anything.
He wanted a clean break.
This wasn’t clean.
This was messy as fuck.
Keeping my hand on his shoulder, I squeezed. “Jingles, let her be for now.”
He turned to glare at me. I would give him a little leeway, given what he just learned.
“Fuck you, Prez, that’s my sister.”
Give them an inch and they want a fucking mile.
“The sister you haven’t seen or checked on in thirteen fucking years. What the fuck did you expect?” I asked, pushing my chest against his.
I knew he wouldn’t swing.
God help him if he did.
“Get your ass back to the clubhouse. Now. That’s an order,” I demanded.
Jingles stood still for a moment; I could see in his eyes he considered disobeying my order.
I’d known Jingles for ten years, and he’d never once disobeyed a direct order. Not from Steele, when he was president over us in Little Rock. And not from me in the five years since I had been his president here in Nebraska.
Without a word, he turned and left.
“King.”
“Not now, Dec,” I said walking away from my brother.
“Yes, now. Dammit.”
He grabbed my arm, spinning me back around to face him. My older brother was the only person who could act this way without immediately getting my fist in his face.
Him and now his daughter, my niece. She had me wrapped around her finger from the moment I knew who she really was.
Declan raised me when our parents died. He put his life on hold and kept me out of foster care when I was ten years old, and he was a twenty-two-year-old beat cop. I knew he was disappointed when I joined the Silver Shadows. I knew he felt like he had failed.
He didn’t fail.
I was my own person. I had my own ideals, my own values, my own morals. We were just different people.
But I loved him.
I honored him.
I respected him.
“What the fuck is going on, King?”
“I don’t know exactly. Jingles left home when he was nineteen years old and hasn’t seen his sister since. She showed up here, for a completely different reason, and they found each other. Suffice it to say, it wasn’t a joyful reunion. When I know more, you will know what, if anything, you need to know.”
“King,” Dec groaned.
“What do you want me to say? That is all I fucking know,” I said, throwing my hands in the air.
My big brother had a way of making me feel like a fifteen-year-old kid, despite my thirty-eight years.
“What the hell is going on lately? First Beck, then Sam, now Ellie? Why is it when your guys get an old lady, trouble follows?
“Hold on, asshole. Beck is your daughter,” I snarled, pointing at my brother. “And she grew up here. Her mother was your mess, not mine.”
Declan squeezed the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy breath.
“You know what I mean,” my brother said.
“And technically, Ryder isn’t one of my guys, so this isn’t an old lady issue.”
“Just give me a fucking heads-up before shit hits the fan, okay?”
“Why do you assume shit will hit anything?”
My brother glared at me. “Because I’m not stupid. I heard what she said, just like you did. I want a heads-up.”
“I will do what I can, big brother!” I said over my shoulder as I left the alley and went home.
Walking into the clubhouse, I saw Jingles sitting at the bar with a beer in his hand.
“Church, now. Officers only,” I called out, walking through the double doors into the room where we held our meetings.
I dropped into my chair and waited for the rest of my men.
Watching them all file into the room, only one was missing.
“Where’s Blade?” I asked Jack.
“He was locking up the store. He should be here soon,” Jack explained as he sat down.
“Ok, we can fill him in when he gets here. Jingles, what do you know?”
“Nothing,” he said, his eyes on the table.
“Bullshit. You know who this Jeremy is your parents want Ellie to marry.”
I saw his face when his sister told him about her parents’ plan. I knew there was something he wasn’t saying.
“Either you tell us, or Nav will.”
Still, the bastard kept his mouth shut.
“Ok, Nav. What do you have?” I asked, watching Jingles for what he wouldn’t tell us.
“Ok, well, I’ve kept an eye on Ellie for the last six years. Jingles asked me to watch over her when she turned eighteen. She went to MIT and double majored in Finance and Literature. She met her best friend Jessie while at college, and they’ve been together ever since.
“After she graduated, she received her trust fund and moved it to an offshore bank account where her parents had no more access to it. She left home, and her parents haven’t been able to find her since, despite spending thousands of PIs.”
“That’s it?” Jack asked.
“She published her first book in her pen name Rayne Perry six months after graduation. Everything she owns is connected to her pen name. Nothing connects to her real name,” Nav added.
“You knew she was here,” Jingles growled.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you made it pretty damn clear you wanted to know nothing unless she was at risk, asshole. I didn’t know anything about your parents trying to force a marriage because there is nothing in writing. I’m not fucking Nostradamus. I can’t predict the future or read people’s minds,” Nav clipped.
I watched Jingles fist his hands on the table. He was going to lose it if we didn’t get this under control. As it was, he was a ticking time bomb.
“Ok, if you aren’t willing to talk then there isn’t anything we can do tonight. Jingles, you don’t leave this clubhouse. You even attempt to pull one of your Houdini routines and I will lock you up in a cell downstairs.”
Yea, we had cells. We might have given up the 1% patch, but we sure as hell weren’t fucking Boy Scouts.
“I’ll let Sam know he’s on lockdown,” Jack said.
I looked over at Jackass and asked, “Why?”
“Because apparently, she’s the only person on the planet he can’t pull one over on,” Jack said.
It was good to see his signature grin and smartass remarks. The last few months had been hell for him and his old lady, Sam. But he did get a daughter out of it and another baby on the way. He also got a brother he didn’t know he had. He was a better man than I was, all my brothers were, but Jack was better than all of us. He was trying to build a relationship with the man who almost killed his old lady.
My gaze slid quickly back to Jingles, and I saw the smallest lift in the corner of his mouth. That was an improvement, as fleeting as it was.
“Ok, make her aware he isn’t to leave the premises. I’ll call Ryder in the morning and have him bring Ellie here. Now, everyone get the fuck out. Jack, make sure you fill Blade in when he gets here.”
“Will do.”
Breakfast was quiet in the clubhouse. I noticed Samantha talking to Jingles; Mimic stood close by, keeping watch over them both. Samantha was good for the club. She had quickly become a mother figure for the brothers that needed that.
Many of my men grew up without a mother’s love. It was something we needed to balance out the rage that seemed to be born in all of us.
“Uncle King.”
I looked down at Charlie, Jack and Sam’s little girl.
“What’s up, sweetheart?”
“I want an uncle date,” she said.
“Oh, you do, huh?” I lifted the four-year-old in my arms, walked over to the bar, and set her down so we were eye to eye.
“I do. You owe me an uncle date,” she stated.
“Why do I owe you an uncle date?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, trying not to smile.
“’Cause you didn’t take me on an uncle date.”
“Has everyone else taken you on an uncle date?”
“Yup,” she said, shaking her head up and down wildly.
“Uncle Hash took you on an uncle date?”
Charlie shook her head again.
“What about Uncle Matlock? Uncle Patch? Uncle Mimic?” I continued naming brothers, and Charlie shook her head with each one.
“I’ll be damned. I guess I owe you an uncle date. I tell you what,” I said, lifting her off the bar and setting her back on the floor. “When Uncle Ryder puts his cut on, I will take you, Chrissy, and Tabby, for an uncle date together. How does that sound?”
“YES!” she yelled, jumping up and down.
“She talked you into an uncle date, huh?” Samantha asked.
I hadn’t seen her get up from the table where she’d been sitting with Jingles.
“She did. I told her when Ryder put on a cut, I would take all three girls.”
“You’re brave, or stupid. I’m not sure which yet. Unless you think Ryder will never accept the cut,” Samantha said, narrowing her eyes like she was looking for something.
She was smart. Jack had his work cut out for him with her. She would keep him in line, that’s for sure. There was no question he needed that.
“He’ll wear a cut. I’ll make sure of it.” I looked over at Jingles and asked, “How’s he doing?”
Samantha sighed before answering. “I’m not sure. He didn’t leave last night, but he was champing at the bit. You need to keep him locked down or he’ll be on the first flight to New York, and that will not be good for him.”
“Keep an eye on him for me?”
“I will.”
Samantha smiled and walked away, sitting down with Charlie. Mimic sat at the table with them. I was worried he was taking this mother figure shit a little too far, but that was a problem for another day.
Walking into church, I called Ryder.
“What?” he barked.
“That’s not the way you answer the fucking phone when your president calls,” I barked back.
“You aren’t my fucking president, so I’ll answer however the hell I want.”
“I need you to bring Ellie to the clubhouse.” Choosing not to remind him that I would be his fucking president one day.
Soon.
“No. I’ll come, but she’s not ready.”
“Jingles needs to talk to her.”
“He can fucking wait. He’s ignored her for thirteen fucking years. He can wait a few more goddamn days.”
“Then, I need you here so we can find out what the fuck is going on and what we need to prepare for.”
“Yea, I’ll be over soon,” he said before disconnecting the call.
The bastard would learn pretty damn quick not to hang up on his fucking president.