34. Smoke
34
SMOKE
“ W e need to accept that the Bratva aren’t going anywhere and we’re likely in a lifelong battle with them for this territory,” I say to Butcher as he pours himself a coffee.
If he notices that I’m now carrying a travel mug filled with Quinn’s coffee, he doesn’t say anything.
“Not ready to accept that,” Butcher says.
“I’m not ready to concede it’s inevitable.”
I shrug.
“Not sure you get a say in it. I shouldn’t have shot Lev Zakharov. I just made the killing of the brother-in-law thing worse.”
Butcher takes a sip of the coffee and winces.
“Not sure you shooting him was the cause. Or even the brother-in-law. This had been going on since before the summer. It doesn’t help that they see us as hiding fugitives. They want the money back from Raven’s ex-husband. And, to be fair, it’s not even Raven’s fault. They want this town for their own reasons, for their transport route. We’re simply in the way.”
“Even if we were cowardly enough to move, we can’t just abandon Atom to protect his land and Em’s bar.”
“Or Quinn’s bakery,” Butcher says with a grin.
“You and the baker seem pretty close.”
I sip my own coffee and think about what a fucking joy it is to wake up with her in my arms. And what a comfort Bones is when he lies across my feet or curls up on the sofa next to me.
Yeah. The fucking sofa.
I’ve given up trying to keep him off it.
He knows just how to look at me with those sad eyes.
“Thinking of asking for a vote on making her my old lady.”
Butcher smiles and slaps my shoulder.
“Never thought I’d see the day, but she’s been good for you. Easy yes vote for me. We can do it at the next Church. Just let me know as soon as you make up your mind.”
When my phone rings, the sight of Quinn’s name on the screen does something to the shell of my heart.
“Hey, sugar. What’s up?”
“Could you…I mean, I know you’re busy…but are you near the bakery? Can you come here? Now?”
I put the coffee cup down and stand to attention.
Bones is barking in the background, and there’s something in her tone.
The quaver of fear I heard that first morning when she grabbed the knife at the sound of Atom’s truck on the drive.
“What’s happened?”
“There was a man. He’s scored a giant X into the bakery window. And he stuck a photograph of me and you in the clubhouse rear yard to the front door. Kinsey and I had agreed to come in early to fire up the ovens. I got there first, and when I walked from the kitchen to the front of the store, he was right there on the other side of the glass.”
“I’m on my way.” I tip my head toward the door, so Butcher knows we need to leave.
“Are you safe?” I pat my cut pocket to make sure I still have my keys and didn’t put them in my room.
“I’m in your truck with Kinsey and Bones. I was going to let him hang out in the yard with us today. Kinsey told me there’s a photograph outside the school too. She saw it when she walked to work this morning. It’s a photograph of Catfish and his sister doing yard work at her house. She didn’t think anything of it until now.”
I’ve never been more relieved I talked her into taking my truck, a more reliable vehicle than her car.
Sturdier, too. “Okay. Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten. Stay where there are lots of people. Don’t drive home. Drive towards the club if you need to.”
“Are they watching us, Ronan?”
“Seems like it, sweetheart. Be there soon. Stay with Kinsey.”
Butcher is already by my side as we walk out into the lot.
“Trouble?”
“Photographs. Of the women in the town with the brothers. Attached to their workplaces. Me and Quinn on her bakery. Catfish and his sister on the school.”
“Ember and Atom?” Butcher asks.
I shrug. “No idea. But maybe drive past Whiskey Fever to see.”
Wraith storms up the gravel driveway, pulls to a halt in a cloud of dust, and reaches into his cut.
He produces a photograph.
“Fuckers put this on my mailbox.”
It’s a picture of him and Raven.
Fen is on his shoulders.
“They’re fucking cowards,” Butcher says.
“I gotta go. Quinn got one stuck to her bakery.”
Butcher nods.
“I’ll rally the rest of the brothers and some of our guests, then join you.”
I don’t care how much pressure it puts on my body—I need to ride fast. Ignoring the twinge of pain every time I move my core, I lean with the road, hugging the white line as it passes in a blur.
It’s a struggle to keep the danger Quinn faced in perspective.
Quinn is on Main Street.
With Kinsey.
There are other people around.
She has Bones with her.
But the Bratva were at her bakery.
Again.
Assholes.
But this time, it seems as though it is part of a larger message.
We know who your families are.
Or worse, you took our family, we’ll take yours.
I know Quinn wants to move home at some point, to live by herself before she fully commits to living with me, just so she isn’t tied to her fear for the rest of her life.
But I’m currently terrified for her, and it’s clouding my judgment as I swerve around what little traffic is on the road.
I’m not sure if she’s going to keep the bakery after Melody’s revelation.
It no longer means the same to her that it did a few days ago.
I hope she keeps it, because she’s a damn fine baker and actually cares about what she’s making.
But mostly, I want her to be happy.
I make enough to look after us.
But the Bratva are being canny.
This low and constant ongoing pressure, it frazzles people.
It makes them want to quit, to move.
It leads to divorce and arguments.
When I see my truck parked up on the side street near the bakery, I pull in behind it.
I’m barely off my bike before Quinn rushes at me, then slows at the final second to hug me gently.
“I knew you’d come.”
The feel of her body up against mine soothes my own demons.
She’s safe, now. In one piece.
Whole. The warmth of her seeps through my T-shirt.
“I’ll come for you a million times over. Always will. You did the right thing calling me. Has he gone?”
Gently, I nudge her away from me, so I can scan the area and reach my weapon quickly if I had to.
She nods. “Yes. I went in through the back door of the bakery because I had all those cookies I’d made last night in my hand. There was nothing on the back door, but when I walked through into the shop, I saw the scratched glass, the piece of paper, and the man, standing there. He was white, your height, had short-cropped dark hair. So, I ran out to the truck. Kinsey arrived a minute later on foot, and I beeped the horn, so she’d see me and get in.”
I see Kinsey’s hair in the passenger seat of the truck.
“Okay, I want you to wait here. I’m gonna go check the place is empty like you thought.”
“I’m coming with you.”
I put my hands on her shoulders.
“No, sweetheart. I know this shook you up, but you need to be where you’re safest. And for now, that’s in the truck.” I lead her back to the driver’s side, and she climbs in.
Those hazel eyes of hers do me in every time.
“Be safe, please.”
“I will. I promise.” I kiss her quickly.
“Morning, Kinsey.”
“Morning, Smoke.”
The normalcy of our little interaction makes me smile, even as I palm my gun and jog across the street.
Thankfully, there is no one around to see me, but it also limits the visual distraction.
I enter the rear yard of the bakery, off the alley, quietly, placing one foot slowly ahead of the other.
While I’m reasonably certain there is no one here, it pays to be certain.
I nudge the door open with my foot, clearing the kitchen before testing the door up to the apartment.
It remains locked. Then, I check the store and get my first glimpse of the etched X and the reverse side of the photograph.
Lowering my weapon, I unlock the front of the bakery and step outside.
Sure enough, there’s a photograph of Quinn and me.
I have my arms around her, but my hands sit on her ass.
And she’s looking up at me with what can only be described as love.
It mirrors the expression on my own face.
Carefully, I fold the picture and put it in my cut pocket.
Hadn’t really considered photographs of the two of us much.
And if you remove the fact it was taken by some obsessive Bratva fuck, it’s a great photo.
I close the door and walk back to the truck.
“You’re good. The place is empty.”
Kinsey drops out of the passenger seat.
“I’ll go get the coffee started.”
I tuck a piece of hair back from Quinn’s face.
“You doing okay, sweetheart?”
She sighs.
“When does all this end, Smoke? It feels like an endless loop.”
I’ve been asking myself the same question.
“We’ll figure it out.”
My phone rings, and it’s Butcher.
“We’re riding out tonight. Make your own call on lockdown of your woman and her shit. Meet at the clubhouse in thirty.”
He hangs up before I can confirm.
But I understand the urgency.
We’re riding out. Tonight.
I take her hand, and there’s something incredible about the intimacy of that simple act.
Leading her safely across the road to her bakery door.
“You should think twice about opening today,” I say quietly to Quinn.
“Butcher is calling a voluntary lockdown, because we’re taking all the manpower with us where we’re going.”
“You’re going to get them, aren’t you?” The worry is etched on her features, and I kiss the tip of her nose.
“We’re going to put an end to it or at least try to. They can’t come here and terrorize you or the town. I don’t know that this is a battle we’ll win today, but we have to act.”
Combined with what happened the night of the fire at the bakery, Quinn is coming face-to-face with the reality of what I do.
And I’m dreading seeing any sign that she judges me for it.
But there isn’t.
“If they’re looking out for you, they’re going to be too busy to come looking for me. I’m not going to let them ruin another day of business for me. But I promise I’ll be careful, and if you aren’t back, I’ll make my way to the clubhouse or to the other girls.”
I reach inside my cut and grab my weapon.
“It’s my favorite because it’s the easiest one to fire and the hardest to miss with.” It’s not, it’s a tricksy bastard I’ve grown attached to, but I hope the small lie will make it easier for her to take hold of the cold metal.
“You’re going to need it.”
I shake my head.
“I’m going home, first, to gather some supplies. We’re meeting at the clubhouse to make some plans. Likely won’t ride out until later this afternoon or early evening. I’ll text you. But I need to know you’re armed. You know what to do this time, sugar.” I remind her with a quick demonstration.
“You got it?”
She takes the gun from me.
“Point straight at the body. Don’t worry about taking someone’s life, just prevent them from taking yours.”
I nod.
“Good girl. I don’t know what time I’ll be home. Might have to get people back to the clubhouse. But whatever time I make my way to you, I’ll pick up food on the way.”
She shakes her head, then smiles ruefully.
“Is this your definition of normal?”
“Would you want me any other way?”
“Not in the slightest.” She puts the gun down on the small table in the yard and throws her arms around my neck.
“Be safe, because I can’t bear to think about the alternative. I need you to come back to me, because you can’t become the next person who doesn’t.”
I hold her close and kiss her.
It’s going to be a tough ride with my injuries.
Might even be a tougher fight because of them.
But I’ll keep this moment in mind and find a way home to her, whatever it takes.