Chapter 12 Grudge
GRUDGE
“We had to know they’d reappear eventually,” Catfish says, looking at the video footage of the Midtown Rebels trying to break into our grow op.
Thankfully, after the last time someone broke into it, we took additional reinforcement precautions. Sturdier gates beyond the average bolt cutters, permanent guards with a rotation of prospects, and cameras that filmed their every move.
“Yeah, well, good thing they didn’t get very far,” Wraith says, rubbing a bandana over greasy fingers. He was fixing his bike just before our meeting.
“Doesn’t sit well with me, though,” I say. “They’re like hackers, poking and prodding at defenses until they find a way in. Can’t help but think they’re going under, over, and around to try and find a way to hurt us.”
“We gave them a fucking beating when they went after Greer and Ember,” Smoke says. “They’re probably licking their wounds more than trying to attack us.”
“I think Catfish is making a good point,” Jackal says. “We know from history that none of our enemies ever sit back forever unless we decimate them. That was no more than a kick up the ass.”
“We killed two of them,” Shade says. “And if I were them, I’d be pissed two men were dead. Revenge is a dish best served cold.”
It’s rare for Shade to have much to say, and I happen to agree with him, at this point. “Let’s keep our ear to the ground and see what we can find out. To the best of my knowledge, we’ve only seen them in town. Can’t say I was happy with them chasing Lucy.”
Smoke smirks. “That because you don’t like them chasing anyone, or because they were chasing Lucy?”
I raise my middle finger to flip Smoke the bird. “Fuck you.”
Catfish covers his smirk.
“I’m sure there’s some saying about how a weakness not acknowledged is deadly or some shit,” Atom mutters.
“Honestly, fuck you all,” I say, but there’s no heat in it.
“Were they chasing her because of us, or because of something else that’s nothing to do with us?” Wraith asks. “Because, as your vice president, I’d say we only owe her help if it’s Outlaw related. Or because you claimed her.”
I raise an eyebrow at Wraith. I know he isn’t saying anything I wouldn’t have said as vice president. But the thought that Lucy would be at their mercy makes me want to spit nails.
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” Catfish says with a grin. “I think we know what the answer is.”
“This town deserves our protection.” And I know the way I cross my arms immediately after does little to help my cause.
“This town—” Atom throws quotation marks in the air “—looks good right now.”
Taco laughs. “I don’t know what this town looked like before, but I’d say so.”
I flip Taco the bird. “You keep your fucking eyes off—”
“This town?” Jackal offers helpfully.
“Fuckers,” I grumble. “Lucy and I are not a thing. But I’m also issuing a hands-off clause that no one touches my ex-wife. If anyone is going to kill her, it’s me.”
Wraith slaps my shoulder. “I’m assuming kill her is a euphemism.”
I think about the way her thighs squeezed me, and her pussy warmed my cock, as she kissed me like she might die if she didn’t. “Maybe. Maybe not.” I glance up at Taco. “Just keep your eyes and your hands off my ex-wife, okay?”
Taco nods. “Understood, Prez.”
“But back to the matter in hand, if we want increased patrols and security, I think some of the old-timers are going to have to pitch in a little more. Feels like they get to fifty-five and think we’re some kind of super-annuity program.”
Catfish stops chuckling at that to agree. “Definitely. Forty percent of club funds go to allegedly active members who barely lift a finger.”
I nod. “It’s not going to make me popular with them, not that I am anyway, but I suggest we have an opt-in or opt-out form. You don’t opt in to rotational work for the club on a frequent basis, you don’t get paid.”
Wraith shoves his bandana into his pocket. “You’re gonna have to define what that looks like, for some of them, but you have my agreement.”
Smoke nods. “Not sure why we’re busting our asses on the front line, making money for some to sit on theirs.”
“I’ll draw it up,” Catfish says. “What do we want to do about those in prison?”
The word prison knocks me a little. “If they went to prison after doing work for the club, they deserve to still get paid. If they went to prison because of something unrelated to the club, but they help us out while inside, they should continue to get payment. If they do nothing for us, they should come off the pay list.”
“I don’t think we need to vote,” Wraith says. “But for formality’s sake, we should. Before we do, I’d just add that we need more funds to fight what’s coming. Arms are getting more expensive. It’s not about paying us more; it’s about keeping the club financially healthy.”
“All in favor,” I say.
Everyone’s hands go up. There isn’t a single no.
“Motion carried,” Wraith says. “Any other business?”
I shake my head. “No.”
It takes another ten minutes for everyone to wrap up individual conversations and clear the room. I’m just about to put my cut on, when Smoke comes back into the room.
“Hey, Prez. You got a second?”
“Sure thing. What’s up?” I slide my cut over my shoulders, and I appreciate the heavy weight of it.
He sits down in his seat. “You sure this thing with you and Lucy is cool?”
I huff at that. “Define ‘cool’?”
Smoke smiles sadly, like he knows the conflict going on in my mind. “Thought you might say that.”
I place my palms down on my desk. “Thought she was the one for me. Then, she divorced me the day I went inside, proving to me she couldn’t have been the woman I thought she was. Now, she’s back. It all happened a long time ago.”
“But feels like yesterday when you see her?”
“What the fuck is this, Smoke? You’re not my therapist.”
“No. But I’m about to be your ex’s landlord. Don’t know how the fuck Quinn and Lucy ended up talking about shit, but I just got a message that she’s moving into the apartment above the bakery.”
I grab my phone and pull up the app I’m using to locate the tracker I put in her truck. “Fuck me, she’s right there.”
Smoke shakes his head. “Please tell me you aren’t invading her privacy.”
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not stalking her or anything.”
Smoke raises an eyebrow.
“Fuck you. It’s so I can avoid her.”
“Right,” he says, as if there are twenty-seven letter i’s in the word. “Because that’s definitely the behavior of someone who is over their ex.”
I grab the keys to my bike. “She’s not taking that apartment.”
“Brother, there’s nothing I can do to stop her.”
I glare at Smoke. “You could stop Quinn. Reel in your old lady from being such a do-gooder and tell her she fucked up and that Lucy can’t stay there.”
He stands. “Prez,” he warns. “You don’t talk about my old lady like that. No matter how pissed you are at the world and Lucy.”
“Shit. Sorry. You’re right.”
“Listen,” Smoke says. “No skin off my back whether she does or she doesn’t. But she might be easier to keep an eye on if she’s living there. Because, you know, I put a full-blown security system on the bakery to keep Quinn safe when she’s at work, and I could always share the feed with you.”
I pause for a second. I could watch her. I’d be able to see who she had staying over or—
“No. She isn’t staying in Colorado, and I’m going to tell her.” I march out of the room, headed for my truck.
The sound of footsteps tells me Smoke is jogging beside me. “Then, I’m coming with you, because I don’t want Quinn caught in whatever fucked-up crossfire this is.”
The ride to the bakery takes all of ten minutes because I blow through every light and stop sign. I’m not in the mood to play nice with anyone. Take the racing line around every corner.
And by the time Quinn’s bakery appears, I’m as confused as I am angry.
Why here? Why now?
I pull the truck up outside and storm into the bakery. The noise fades, static cracks through the air in a mix of tension and resentment. When I don’t see them downstairs in the store, I march to the stairs at the back of the kitchen and storm up to the apartment.
Smoke’s footsteps tell me he’s right behind me.
In the kitchen, I find Lucy sitting next to Quinn with some papers in front of her, and she catches my eye just as she signs whatever those papers say.
She looks…soft. Sweats. An oversize hoodie. Makes me think of throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to bed to get in on some of that warmth. My cock has the audacity to stir in my denim, like it’s completely unconnected from the rest of me.
“You can’t stay here,” I say.
She stands. “As we discussed yesterday, you have no say in where I do or don’t stay.”
“Go back to New York, Luce.”
Fuck.
Luce.
I hate the way the word slips out, like it’s itching to be used.
“Do you remember our conversation? We aren’t five. I’m not splitting the town with you. Plus, I just signed the paperwork.”
I lean close. Too close. Catching the scent of her perfume again. “Signing paperwork you shouldn’t seems to be your forte.”
“And interfering in my life seems to be yours. Anyone would think you like me.”
The words come out sharp, but I see the regret in her eyes the moment she says them. And I’m sure she sees the truth in mine.
That I’m conflicted by her return.
“Oh, shit,” Quinn says, moving to Smoke. “Did I do wrong, sweetie?”
Smoke puts his arm over her shoulder. “Nah, sugar. Mommy and Daddy are fighting. That’s all. Come back downstairs and make me a coffee.”
In the hallway at the top of the stairs, I see a camera. And if I look through the large windows with the view out over Main Street, I know I’ll see the cameras that also cover the external door leading up to the apartment.
She’ll be safe here.
“You’re staying?” I ask Lucy, finally.
“Would it be so bad?” Lucy asks in return. There’s something in her tone that’s so wistful, it wraps itself tight around my heart.
If I were a better man, a braver man, I might give her the reassurance she’s looking for. But if I do, I fuck myself.
I feel myself tipping toward her. When she looks at me like she is now, when I can see there is more bothering her than she’s ready to admit, it erases the bad memories for a moment. But I can’t let myself do this again.
“Yeah, Luce. It would be the fucking worst.”
Then, I spin on the heel of my boot and leave the bakery.