Chapter 15 Wes
FIFTEEN
WES
PRESENT
The letter didn’t tell me shit.
I’d been waiting on this fucking thing since the day I saw it passed over the lawyers table to Callie, knowing it was meant for me and it was just Simon’s way of teasing me.
He had told me before he died that if I was doing everything right then I’d have access to that letter because the only way to read his instructions would be to make amends with his daughter.
Fucking meddlesome old man.
Callie was sitting next to me, her eyes moving quickly over the other letters from her dad.
I had no idea what Simon had been writing her throughout the years.
I assumed it was apologies, and other shit regarding his absence from her life, but I didn’t know.
I just knew he had handed me one once a month for the past three years and told me to make sure my name was on as the sender, not his.
I didn’t know what he was playing at, and sure, there was a part of me that wondered if Callie would open them simply because they were from me, but she hadn’t. And it wouldn’t have burned as much if I hadn’t ever known, so that’s one more thing I can thank Simon for.
“You find anything good in there?” I finally asked, giving up on the note in my hand.
He told her to sell.
Why would he tell her to sell the property?
It made no fucking sense. If we sold, we’d be out a place to call home and we’d lose our headquarters, which didn’t make sense for the club.
Where else were we supposed to go? Not to mention all the product Simon had left us in charge of moving from the last big deal he’d set up.
If we sold, we’d be fucked, because we had nowhere else to put that much product without landing on someone’s radar.
“Nothing but apologies and memories.” Callie swiped at her eyes and shoved the letters back into shape, tucking them into an envelope.
Her somber expression did something to me.
I hated seeing her like this, and considering this was the first time we’d been alone with each other in private, where I wasn’t teasing her to shower with me, or pushing her buttons about being here, it was hitting harder than I was comfortable with.
Clearing my throat, I moved from the bed.
“I got shit to do. You know where the shower is, remotes are in the bedside table, and there’s food down there if you get hungry. I’ll be back later.”
Callie moved off the bed, trailing me.
“Wait…where are you going?”
This felt so weird, being back in a domesticated space with her.
It was like we’d never left, and yet there was nearly an entire decade between us.
She hurt me. Fucking ruined me. So the urge to kiss her, or to soothe her worry, burned the tip of my tongue.
All I had to do was think back to her face last night when she realized I had been more than aware of all her encounters over the past seven years, and I’d sober right up.
“I have club matters to handle.” I pulled on my boots and leather jacket, which was a replica of my cut. Same patches, same colors, just thicker and more protective when I’m riding.
She stared, her arms crossed over her chest.
“So us being partners now, that was just bullshit?”
I hid my smile by lowering my face, because I liked a riled-up Callie. Used to be my favorite thing to come home to.
“Nope, but there are some things I can’t bring you in on. Some shit has nothing to do with the letters, or what's going on with the Raiders.”
That was a lie, but like hell did I owe her anything.
Her plump bottom lip was pulled between her teeth as she watched me grab my keys. Her nails dug into her skin, and Max suddenly picked up his head like he knew she was getting pissed.
“What if I have to leave, or go somewhere?”
I grabbed the door handle and pulled, before giving her one last look.
“Don’t.”
I had to get her hazel eyes out of my head.
I slammed the door behind me without a second thought and hurried over to the club.
She’d try to follow; I knew that much. Callie wasn’t the type to sit and stay or take orders.
It wasn’t in her blood, and that used to send a rush to my cock—fuck, still did—but I needed her to listen this time.
Thankfully, Killian was pulling up with the blonde-haired friend on the back of his bike.
He parked, and before he could even take off his helmet, she was crawling off the back of his bike. She threw her helmet on the ground then shoved him in the shoulder before stomping up to me. No fear, nothing at all in her eyes but fire.
“Where is Callie?”
Shit, this girl made me want to back up a step. She looked like she was two seconds from throwing a punch, and all five feet two, hundred and twenty pounds of her would try to take me down. She was out of her depth, but she didn’t seem to give a single fuck.
I gestured with my head toward my house. “Staying with me. Your stuff is already there too.”
Callie was outside seconds later, her face hard and determined. The blonde friend ran over to her, and with one last malevolent glance at me, she put her arm around her friend’s shoulder, leading her into my house.
I turned to see almost the entire club watching from the porch. Killian seemed pissed at something; no idea what was going on there, didn’t care. I walked inside and headed toward the back, but something inside my chest, squirming uncomfortably, had me yelling to the group of younger members.
“No one touches them. Don’t look at them. Don’t fucking breathe in their direction, do you understand me?”
There was a rumble of confirmation before I pushed through the church doors.
Brooks, Hamish, Rune, Pops, Killian, and Giles were all staring at me from their place at the table.
Church was broadly just a meeting place for us, with one long table and our club's most prized memorabilia up on the walls.
This room was a time capsule as much as it was a place of peace and safety.
We planned here and set the course of the club right from this room.
I thought back to my first time sitting in one of the chairs and watching as Simon went over detailed optics for a run Brooks was making for the Mayhem Riot.
I remember being scared shitless but excited too.
That feeling never left me, and I decided it was probably a good idea to always be a little scared, especially in this life.
“You got the letter from the will?” Brooks asked, tapping his weathered finger against the table. They were all in on Simon’s joke. If I got back into Callie’s good graces, I’d be able to see the last living wish of Simon Stone.
I gave a curt nod, not willing to go into any of the details about Callie. “He wants us to sell.”
Just to make sure they knew I wasn’t bullshitting them, I passed the letter to Killian so he could read it. He passed it to Rune and so on. Once everyone had a chance to look over it, we sat in silence.
“He can’t really mean for us to do that.” Giles muttered quietly. The prospect from years ago had transitioned into one of my closest friends, and reliable club members.
Everyone remained quiet while flicking tentative glances at me.
It was times like this I wished Killian had been asked to step into this role, but Simon wanted me.
Still wasn’t sure why, especially when Kill had been the vice president.
It took everyone by surprise when Simon told everyone his successor for the club would be me.
“There’s something we’re not seeing here. There’s no way he’d ever want us to sell this place. Not from how many times he’d talk about the future of the club. He’s hiding something.”
Killian rocked back in his chair before tipping his gaze to the ceiling. “Might be worth a shot to ask his old lady. She was the closest person to him.”
Fucking Sasha.
The woman had come into Simon Stone’s life a few years ago, but we all knew her from being Dirk’s old lady.
Something happened over there with the Raiders and suddenly she wasn’t his anymore, just club pussy with no way out.
Simon took a liking to her. She straddled the line between both clubs, falling for the leader of the Stone Riders while being tied to the Raiders.
She was a good person, and I did trust her.
Always had, ever since that night she placed her hand on Callie’s back, but I trusted her son more.
“Let me meet with Silas first. I need to know how close he is on his end of things. It will help give us a timeline, especially after Dirk sent that photo of Callie.”
Killian tapped the table with his fingers, looking contemplative. “You think they’re planning on trying to take her again?”
The memory came quick like a rush of adrenaline battering my chest. Callie being taken, finding her in their club. It still felt like just yesterday when I was carrying her out of there.
“Don’t know, but we need to be careful.”
Pops chose that moment to speak up, effectively putting his foot in his mouth.
“We could always use her as bait.”
All eyes snapped to me, and I was already shaking my head.
“She might not wear my property patch anymore, but I made a promise to Simon that she’d stay safe. Offering her as bait isn’t an option.”
They didn’t know it ran deeper than that.
It wasn’t just a promise keeping her safe.
It was me. She’d worn me down in the span of just a few days of being here.
I wanted to be unfazed by her presence, and act as though her scent didn’t drive me so fucking mad that I wanted to punch something or someone, but property patch or not, she’d always belong to me.
Which meant she’d always be mine to keep safe.
“I’ll meet up with Silas, and we’ll reconvene tomorrow. For now, Hamish, I want you to stay around the club and keep an eye on these younger members to ensure no one bothers the girls.”
Hamish nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette.
“Brooks, tell Red to plan a big community barbeque for next week.”
Giles gave Killian a confused look right as Brooks sat back in his chair, folding his hands over his large belly.
“What are we doin’ throwing a town barbeque at a time like this? That’s awful tempting for the Raiders to come crash.”
I waved him off, pulling out my cell. “I’m not worried about that; Silas will make sure no one steps foot in Rose Ridge that day.”
Brooks glanced quickly at Killian, raising his brow before settling his curious gaze on me again.
These fuckers all looked to him as the second, it should have been him. I had no fucking clue what I was doing wearing the patch of president. It wasn’t something I ever wanted, and while the men liked me just fine, they didn’t respect me the way they did Killian.
“I’m trying to draw someone out, see if I can pull on a loose thread.” I explained, trying to help them without forcing them to ask it. Questioning the president wasn’t admired in clubs like ours.
Silas agreed to meet with me, so I waved everyone off. “Try not to die out there, keep Killian appraised of what you’re doing.”
Everyone filed out of the room except Killian, which is how every meeting ended. Even if he wasn’t wearing the patch of president right now, he was still my second in command, and my best friend.
“Laura,” Killian muttered, inspecting his nail, digging at some grease on the tip of it.
“What?”
His green eyes landed on me, and like so many of his expressions, it made me uneasy.
Killian had this way about him that reminded me of a wolf.
In fact, he wore a wolf patch on his cut, like I had the small fox for Callie.
Simon was always calling Killian “the wolf.” His gaze on me reminded me of his moniker, forcing my spine to stiffen.
“You keep saying, ‘the friend, the girls,’ I even heard you call her the blonde one, once. Her name is Laura.”
He had never once corrected me on someone’s name.
Not ever. Not when I called Natty, the kitchen hand, Nadine, for three months.
Not when I called Giles, Garth. Not when I called the mailman Gene when his name was Jason.
Killian had been there, hearing me say all these names wrong, because I’m shit with names, but he had never once said a word.
I let out a frustrated groan while sagging back into my chair.
“Kill, you can’t fucking fall for her. Please promise me. It will only complicate shit.”
He smirked, shaking his head.
“First of all, I’m not fuckin’ falling for anyone, but complicate shit for who?” He leaned back, dragging that nail across his shirt.
I glared at my friend, squinting just to see if I could see his facade crack.
Killian remained casual, focusing on his nail.
“They’re going back. I’m only keeping her long enough to ensure she won’t sell, once she does, which she will, she’ll pack those bags, Laura too. Then they’ll take that horse and drive back to DC. She was never going to stay here.”
My mind flung the image of her in my tattoo shop back at me. She’d seemed eager, excited almost, at the prospect of working there. She was about to accept an application for the seat before I had walked in.
Killian rolled his eyes then let out a sigh.
“You’re in quite the mood since she got back, and honestly, I thought maybe it was good because you’ve been a shell since she left. But this…this depressed, glass half full bullshit is ten times worse.”
He was right, and I hated that he was. But what was I supposed to do, just turn off my feelings for her? Forget. Move on…
Fuck. Yeah maybe it was time I did. It would do some irrevocable shit to me to see her go, but there was no question in my mind at all that she would.
She didn’t want this life, and regardless of how temporary it might be for me, she’d never stick around long enough to find out that I had made my own plans.
“Tell you what. Once I’m done, I’ll go on a date that I set up, not Red or Brooks, and I’ll actually give the girl a shot.”
Killian watched me with a careful tension, as though he was waiting for me to break. There was no doubt that I would break; it was just a matter of time now.
“I have to go meet Silas.” I stood from my chair and took two long steps toward the door, but right before I pulled on the handle I paused.
“I’ll stay with her until you get back,” Killian said softly.
With my back to him, I let out a small sigh of relief and exited the room.