Chapter 23 Wren
WREN
“What are you doing sitting here all alone?” Wraith asks the following day when he walks into the clubhouse about twenty minutes after we arrived.
He’s holding the hand of a young boy who is practically bouncing with every step.
Beside the two of them is a pretty young woman with hair even blacker than my own that has a slight blue tint to it when the sun catches it through the window. Her hand rests on her pregnant belly.
I point at the doors to what I now know is both Grudge’s office and the room they use for church.
I’ve always had a passing interest in the role religion plays in life, even if we don’t want it to, or, in my case, don’t believe in it.
The fact these men use one of the most religious terms to describe their meetings is humorous to me.
I get that it’s sacred, if you wanna use that term, but church feels like a million miles away from what likely goes down in that room.
“He got a call from Grudge to go over some things, so he brought me with him.”
“He did, did he?” Wraith says, as if he knows more than he really does.
“Something about safety,” I add, but it’s not my finest acting moment.
Wraith smiles. “This is my old lady and fiancée, Raven. And our son, Fen.” Fen looks nothing like him.
With his white-blond hair and curls, Wraith looks like a model.
Beneath a thick beanie, Fen is surly and olive skinned.
Thick eyebrows and a mop of unruly brown hair. I’m curious what their story is.
“You must be Wren. I’ve heard so much about you,” Raven says, offering me her hand to shake. I notice her hand is a patchwork of scars.
I wonder exactly what Wraith has been telling his future wife, but I smile. “It’s lovely to meet you both.”
“Dad says we’re gonna go out with Uncle Atom and cut down a Christmas tree so we can decorate the clubhouse tomorrow when it’s settled in place.”
“It’s a tradition,” Wraith says. “The whole club will be here shortly. You should come out with us. Get a tree for the ranch house.”
I’m dressed for it, in thick boots and warm layers. “I’d like that.”
“We need to go, or the best tree will be gone,” Fen says, bouncing on his toes.
Wraith grins. “Fen’s been hyped about the tree thing since Halloween. Had to get a temporary one just to keep him quiet.” But he rubs his hand over Fen’s beanie, affectionately setting it askew.
Fen laughs as he rights it.
Raven squeezes Fen’s shoulder and nods at me. “Come when you’re ready. They’ve got axes and spiked hot chocolate.”
“That sounds like a dangerous combination,” I say.
They leave out the back door of the clubhouse, and over the next half hour, there’s a steady stream of bikers and their families.
Smoke and Quinn arrive, and it’s the first time I’ve seen the two of them together. Smoke has a firm grip on her gloved hand, but leads the two of them, walking half a footstep ahead of her. She’s bundled up in a long coat and a thick mustard-colored scarf.
“Yay. Wren. Are you coming out with us?” she asks.
I glance over to church. “I’m not sure. River…Catfish is in with Grudge.”
Smoke glances over to the wooden doors currently keeping everyone out. “You know what about?”
I shake my head. “I don’t.”
“Okay,” Quinn says. “Well, I hope we see you out there.”
I’m just watching their backs disappear down the hallway when the church room doors swing wide and Catfish steps out.
His face is unreadable, tight around the eyes, mouth set.
I rise, my pulse kicking up a beat. “Well? Are you okay?”
He nods, then sits opposite me. It’s hard not to reach for him to soothe him.
But we talked about this before we came over this morning.
If we’re going to get away with him remaining in the house with me, we have to maintain the illusion that we are nothing more than friends working the problem together.
“Yeah. Just needed a sense of how the money was going to roll over the next few months, using the money we get from King for protecting you, and the money you already recovered.”
I can sense there’s more. “And?”
“I told him about the username.” His voice lowers. “He wondered how deep that username and email CG6 is using to connect with you was buried.”
My mouth goes dry. “It was buried, like, three firewalls deep. Only someone who knew of me in the past would even know where to look. Or someone really great at cybercrime. It’s not something, say, Wraith or Smoke could find on a Sunday afternoon using a mainstream search engine.”
He glances over to the door where laughter from outside drifts in. “That’s what I thought. And Grudge agrees, it must be someone who has access to your past. Family. Old friends. You said Calista pulled a group of you together.”
A quiet chill runs down my spine. “No. It couldn’t have been one of them.”
“Couldn’t? Because you have access to their machines and know everything they’ve ever done, or you don’t want to believe any of them capable of what we’re talking about?”
I feel it deep in my bones that this isn’t a random hit but a betrayal. “You know it’s the latter because the former is impossible. But we’ve all been through so much together over the years. Hunted in the same way. I can’t believe any of them would do that to me.”
Catfish smiles softly. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do in a tough situation.”
I glance over to the doors of church, where I see Grudge putting on his coat. I drop my voice and lean closer. “Like lie to their president?”
“If it means I get to kiss those lips every day, it’s an easy yes.”
Lucy bounds into the clubhouse but doesn’t see us. She’s too focused on Grudge, who grins when he sees her. She throws herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, before kissing him thoroughly.
He holds her tight, backs up into church, then kicks the door shut with his boot.
Catfish looks at the door as wistfully as I do. “One day, we’ll be that open, Wren. I promise.”
There’s an itch beneath my skin. One that I’m sure tells me lies. But it’s hard not to conflate being non-binary and being told people would be ashamed to date me and hiding who we are to each other now.
I force the thoughts away and reassure the man who has done nothing but stand for me. “What we’ve got is real enough for me to hold on to. Other people knowing about it won’t negate that.”
Catfish sighs, his hand twitching like he wants to touch me. He doesn’t, of course.
Turns out, motorcycle club hands-off clauses are a lot more binding than I would have imagined. A part of me wants to ask King to lift it, but that means forcing Catfish’s journey and effectively outing him to his president, and I won’t do that to him.
My phone vibrates on the table, and I look down at it.
“Who is it?” Catfish asks.
“Chase. Again.”
His brow wrinkles. “Twice in one day, you must be top of his list. What does it say?”
I read the email out loud. I have nothing to hide.
Wren,
Got a name of who is coming for you. It’s a big one. You wanna know who, we talk, face-to-face, or not at all. You know how to reach me.
“Motherfucker,” Catfish mutters. “How can a federal agent know about a potential hit on someone and not tell that person how to be safe?”
I close my phone and put it back on the table. “Because you’re putting me in the wrong category. I’m a criminal. In the eyes of the law, I could go to prison for a really long time. So, he isn’t giving me the benefit of the doubt or here to protect me. I’m part of the problem.”
He leans back in his chair as I try to wrestle the sick feeling twisting in my gut. “Giving it five seconds’ more thought, it’s probably a trap.”
“Of course it is. So, I can’t respond, no matter how I might want to.
It’s better for him to think he’s firing bullets into the void.
As soon as I respond, he knows he has me.
Technically, there’s no reliable way to override the things I have in place to avoid detection, so Chase can’t know for sure that I’ve read it. ”
Grudge and Lucy finally leave church, a pink flush on Lucy’s cheeks. “You two coming out to cut some trees?” he asks.
Catfish looks at me. “You wanna go?”
“Yeah. I think I do. Let’s go pretend this is just another ordinary day.”
When we get outside, people are splitting. “Snowmobile or horse?” Catfish asks.
“Oh my God. Horse. Can we go on Blaze?”
Ready for the day, Atom has arranged for a number of stable hands to be available, and I wave toward the stable as we trudge through the snow to it.
We have to wait another ten minutes while Blaze is readied, but we’re on his back in no time. I’m settled in front of Catfish while he manages the reins.
“You know,” I say as Blaze lumbers through the snow. “This has all the makings of a Hallmark Christmas movie.”
“You watch those things?”
“Not really, but I know enough about them. They’re a bit cookie cutter and usually very straight.
You know, busy businesswoman from New York comes out to visit her grandpa’s ranch and falls for the ranch hand.
There’s always snow, a house that is way too overdecorated with ten thousand bucks worth of baubles and evergreens, some emotional setup that requires her to make a choice between staying and going home, and a hot guy dressed in flannel. ”
Catfish rests his chin on my shoulder, for a second.
“As opposed to non-binary person flees New Jersey to hide in a motorcycle clubhouse. Not cookie cutter. Definitely not straight. But we have snow, a freshly cut tree, and zero baubles. And if you want me to wear flannel, there’s at least ten shirts at home that I can pull out. ”
I can’t hide my smile. “What if I’m the one wearing flannel?”
He tightens his hold of the reins, squeezing me tight. “You, naked, in nothing but one of my flannel shirts. Yeah, I’d hit that.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Maybe. I also got a boner thinking about you in my shirt under the tree we’re gonna cut down.”
“Maybe you let me wear your Stetson. Then, I could ride you like a true cowboy.”