Chapter Sixteen.
Vortex
Declan clung to mine and Amy’s hands as he swung between us. There was no denying Declan relaxed around her. Declan had clearly bonded with Amy and needed her. We headed down the alley that led to the schoolhouse, then past it to a road lined with houses.
“What’s this?” Duke asked with interest.
“These were part of the town. They’re owned by us.
The original plan was to keep sixty for the club and rent the rest out to employees and renters.
But that’s changed slightly. There are two streets down here we’ve claimed.
They contain eighty semi-detached homes.
We planned to knock each pair into one house, which offered us forty.
“Nanci pointed out, with kids, legacies, and growth, that wouldn’t be enough.
We’d grow old, and young’uns would come in.
Now, we’re keeping the majority for the club.
There are seventy-five houses on the other side of Main Street; we’re going to rent those out to staff and long-term renters.
There’s a section behind them where homes had collapsed.
Nanci applied for planning permission to build another thirty properties and also twenty cabins,” I explained.
“Okay, how’s this concern us?” Phil asked.
As we’d been speaking, we’d been walking down the road. A converted house sat beautifully restored on the other side of the street. By knocking the two houses together, it made the new house huge.
“Inglorious. That’s Razor, and that’s Chill’s.” I pointed to those next to it. Inglorious had the end plot with extra land.
“This is mine,” I said, turning to face the wreck behind me. It was identical to Inglorious’s and had the same amount of acreage. In fact, my land joined Inglorious’s plot in a lopsided square shape, missing the top and one side longer than the other.
“It’s a disaster, son,” Phil stated.
“Work starts on it Monday. I’ve the spare key to Inglorious’s. Want to see inside?” I asked.
“Why?” Amy looked confused. I was making a hash of this, and Phil didn’t appear amused, although Duke did.
“Amy, I thought you understood I wanted to build a life with you,” I began.
“Oh look, there’s a swing set,” Duke said, pointing it out to Declan, who’d been listening in. He took Declan over to Inglorious’s house, and Phil went with him.
“I do.”
“Amy, I want this to be our home. I want you to settle down with me. You can check the plans over. If you don’t like them, Apache can change them. We can apply to adopt Declan if that’s what you want?”
Amy stared at me in a long silence. I immediately felt edgy. Was she going to refuse me?
“You want us to move in together and make a home?” Amy asked in a strangled voice.
“Yes. I want to grow old together. Amy, I told you that,” I said, taking her hands and moving closer. I bent my head to hers. “Amy Wright, I love you, and that’s never going to change.”
“I love you too,” she whispered, and I claimed her lips, and triumph rolled through me. This, right here, was my reward for coming back to South Dakota to support Nanci. I’d found my soulmate, and she was perfect.
“We’re adopting Declan. I know some people,” I murmured.
Amy laughed. “I hear you do.”
“Nanci been tittle-tattling?”
“Yup. But she’s funny with it.”
“So, what do you think of the house?” I asked.
“I don’t care what it looks like as long as it’s big enough for us, Declan, and a few other children. Perhaps an office I can work in,” Amy replied.
“How many kids?” I demanded, needing to know.
“Three or four? No more than that,” Amy said.
“That sounds wonderful to me.”
From across the road, Declan let out a belly laugh, and we turned to gaze at the boy who’d be our son one way or another.
◆◆◆
Why does something perfect always have to get ruined?
As we walked back to the clubhouse, I was surprised to see two familiar cuts heading inside.
I shoved open the doors and saw Drake and Ace.
They stood to one side with Inglorious, and I winced as I saw their old ladies in a huddle with Nanci and Daisy-Duke.
“Run!” I muttered to Amy, who’d come to a stop behind me. Her hand snuck up and caught hold of my cut.
“I thought they were friendly?” she murmured.
“Sure, they are, the women rabidly so. By the time that lot has done, you’d have undergone the equivalent of a Spanish Inquisition, and they’ll have henpecked me to death. They’ll have our future planned and kid’s names picked too.”
Amy’s eyes went wide, and she began backing out. “Oh, hell no, babe, you ain’t leaving me alone to face them.”
“Papa!” Amy whispered, and Phil approached. His stern gaze swept the room, and Nanci, who’d been standing up to wave Amy over, paused.
“Amy, would you like to come and join us?” she called.
I snickered; she’d been planning to order Amy to join them.
“No, thank you. My dads are here,” Amy replied.
Duke snorted behind me, and I moved out of their way so they could grab a table. It was close to lunchtime, and Meadow was busy at the serving hatch.
“Need anything?” I asked, and she shook her head.
“I’m just plating up sandwiches. Nanci and Daisy-Duke already offered help. I’ve got this Veep,” Meadow said, and I nodded.
“Good to see you,” I greeted Drake, Rage MC’s President, and his VP, Ace.
“Likewise, how’s things going?” Drake inquired.
“Great—for the town, anyway,” I replied.
“Hear you’ve had trouble,” Ace stated.
I snorted. “Ain’t one of us always having drama? How’s Rage?”
“Rage is quiet apart from the hellions. I swear to God…” Drake broke off and made a strangling motion. “If Dante didn’t look like me, I’d have to question his parentage. That little shit’s never beaten Eddie once, yet he doesn’t stop trying. Eddie gets him every time.”
“Heard that!” Phoenix called.
“Well, he doesn’t have our brains,” Drake retorted.
“Dante certainly doesn’t have mine, yours, however…” Phoe let the sentence drop, and Drake growled.
“Hey, turn the news on,” Razor ordered, bursting into the clubhouse.
“What’s up?” Inglorious asked.
“Don’t know, but it’s all over the media. President Winslow is giving a statement in a few minutes. Live TV is being interrupted across the board,” Razor said.
I grabbed the controller and flicked the TV on, and turned it to the news channel. A reporter talking about what this potential announcement could be before flicking to the White House.
“Good afternoon, everyone. Please take your seats and refrain from calling out questions until I’ve finished.” Winslow said. Behind him stood the VP, Andrew Wainwright, the former congressman for South Dakota.
“Andrew?” Phoe murmured and moved closer to the TV. She was close to the man.
“We have an announcement to make. Just over eighteen months ago, the impossible happened. Americans fought Americans.”
Drake and Inglorious straightened, and Razor slumped in a chair. I turned and saw Rory standing by the bar.
“Find Chill now and bring him here,” I ordered. He nodded and took off.
“At the time, my friend and Vice-President, Andrew, contacted the then President of the United States, warning him what was happening. Senator Antony Parker-Jones and several other high-ranking officials supported these claims from Rapid City and its surrounding towns. Their warnings were ignored, even when backed by evidence in the form of pictures, video footage, and voice recordings. The former president shoved his head up his ass and refused to accept reality.”
I smiled mirthlessly as Andrew coughed and Winslow glanced over his shoulder.
“Forgive an old soldier’s bluntness. I was never one for flowery language.
We are taught when we serve to communicate plainly so misunderstandings can’t happen.
And this is how I’ll speak to you always, calmly and clearly.
Reports for months were ignored, and the former president claimed it was a motorbike gang war and that the local law enforcement could handle it.
He didn’t wish to know or understand. He wouldn’t accept that a person had grown so lustful for power that he planned to attack and claim an American city and kill anyone in his way. The man we know as Fury.
“Our former president didn’t do his due diligence, didn’t check reports, and didn’t speak to those begging him for help.
The fool ignored eyewitness accounts. Basically, Rapid City was left to hang.
Even I was ordered to stand down and not provide support.
Had I not disobeyed a direct order, Rapid City would be under anarchy right now, and we’d be fighting to regain the city.
“Since I took office six months ago, we have been steadily wading through the paperwork and files. Evidence has been collected, checked, verified, and recorded. Amongst this was a map taken from the Venomous Fangs’ main clubhouse.
On it were indicators of where bodies were buried.
Two weeks ago, I authorised teams to go to three of the sites to see if they led to anything. ”
Winslow stopped talking, and horror crossed his face. My blood ran cold, and my gut twisted. Shit, this was going to be bad. This would change the lives of those standing around me again.
“There were marked gravesites, alright. Mass graves. The first held the remains of thirty-three men—all wearing cuts belonging to a motorbike club that no longer exists. The second gravesite, close to them, contained the bodies of twenty-five women and eighteen children.”
Gasps rang out across the press room.
“The third site unearthed twelve men. Every male and female body excavated had been tortured, and the women also sexually assaulted. The children had been killed with a bullet to the back of the head. These are three sites of the many markings on the map recovered, which encompass the entire country. This has led to today’s events.