Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
GOOSE
Gathering my shit, I wave to Prez and get the fuck out of Wilmington. Straddling my bike, I ride as fast and far as I can. The few hours it takes to get from the beach to Raleigh is goddamn torture. The entire time, the surveillance footage plays on a repeat inside my head.
Over and over.
I watched the woman I love being violated in every way possible, even when she was no longer conscious. The man is a fucking monster. I’m not letting him get away with any of it, though. And when I torture and kill him, I’ll be visiting Cidney wearing his blood.
Pulling my bike up to the house, I almost laugh at how goddamn gaudy it is.
Of course, this would be Goffredo’s fucking home, the place he was raised, a spoiled little piece of shit raised in this garish mansion of privilege.
I would venture to guess that Goffredo hasn’t had a hard day’s work a single day in his entire goddamn life.
Kicking the stand down on my bike, I throw my leg over the side before I straighten myself. Moving toward the front door, I think about Cidney and the hell she’s suffered. I keep that shit alive in my head because I know that it fuels my fire. My anger. My pain and my revenge.
I ball my fingers into a fist before I thump it against the front door. One. Two. Three times before the knock is answered. The door opens, and there is a man on the other side wearing a suit. What a fucking joke.
“May I help you?” he asks, his accent thick, but I can’t place it, and I don’t care to try.
“I need to speak with Lorenzo. Now.”
He arches a brow. I’m sure he’s surprised I haven’t used Lorenzo’s last name, but again, I don’t fucking care. This guy is lucky that I’m even asking for Lorenzo instead of moving through his house and shooting everyone in sight.
“Please come into the sitting room. Who may I ask is calling?”
Fucking hell, this shit is tedious. “Goose from the Vicious Reapers.”
He dips his chin, then turns around and walks into the house. I follow him for a moment, but stop in the sitting room. I don’t have the patience to deal with this shit right now, or the fight to storm the castle. What I want to do is focus my angry energy on that motherfucker who hurt my woman.
Thankfully, Lorenzo doesn’t make me wait too long. I hear his fancy Italian leather shoes click on the marble floors as he moves through the house. I don’t look to watch him walk. I don’t need to. I can already guess that he has a small entourage behind him.
When he appears in the sitting room, out of respect for him, I extend my hand, offering a shake. He does the same, dipping his chin slightly, but I can see the confused expression written clearly on his face.
“I’m going to get right to the point. You’re a busy man, and I have other shit to do today,” I say.
Lorenzo arches a brow, though I’m unsure if it’s in confusion or offense. He’s not a man used to being spoken to bluntly. Just from our first meeting, I know he likes to be in control of any conversation, and he likes to talk around things.
I’m not doing that today.
“May we sit?” he asks bristly.
I think it’s funny that he’s asking me anything, as are the men who are standing behind him, an entourage of three. I’m sure there are at least half a dozen more spread out throughout this gaudy minimansion, including the person I came here for.
“Sure, though I don’t plan on being here long.”
Lorenzo walks over to an armchair that is upholstered in deep-burgundy velvet, definitely over the fucking top. He slowly sinks down, his three men standing near him. One behind and two flanking him, their focus on me and only me.
I’m not going to kill Lorenzo. In fact, when I look at him, I have nothing but respect for him. He probably gave his kid everything in the whole goddamn world, spoiled him, and is now regretting his decision.
“The last transport went very well, so I am wondering why you are here. What’s your name again?”
Instead of giving him my road name, I decide he can have my legal name. Not that it matters, but I feel like it would go a bit further in this conversation. Clearing my throat, I lift my chin slightly.
“I’m Trent Fairfax, and we have an issue with Goffredo.”
“Goffredo?” he asks.
I hum. “Seems he hasn’t just stepped a toe out of line, he jumped over it.”
Lorenzo’s brows snap together. When I reach into my inner cut pocket, the three men pull out their guns and point them at me, but I ignore them. If I wanted to kill Lorenzo, it wouldn’t be here, and it wouldn’t be like this.
I take out my phone, holding it up so they can see what it is. I watch as they put their guns away, except for the one behind Lorenzo, who just drops his hand to his side, holding his gun there, alert and ready for whatever is coming next.
He’s wasting his energy, though.
I pull up the video and push Play, refusing to watch it again, and I hand Lorenzo the device. I watch as his furrowed brows rise to the ceiling, then snap together again. Watching him take in everything that his son did to Cidney is an interesting moment.
Every emotion that I felt watching it for the first time plays out over his face, including shock and anger. And as much as I want to sit in silence while he soaks all of this in, I need to speak.
“If she were an enemy of your family, if she had betrayed you in some way, this conversation would not be happening. But Cidney is probably the most innocent person between our two worlds, and that was not earned nor deserved.”
“She is,” he murmurs, his gaze not leaving the phone screen for a long moment.
“There are more, but I don’t think you need to watch them all.”
“No, I do not.”
I don’t say anything else right away. I allow whatever the fuck he’s going to say and do to hang in the air. He’s met Cidney, and he knows she’s important to the club, but also that his son targeted her.
He also knows that this single act his kid committed could very well start a war, a big one. And I don’t think Lorenzo wants that, so now it’s up to him to make the next move, and if it’s not the right one, my next stop will be to Bullet.
CIDNEY
“Looks like you’ll be going home today,” the nurse sings as she walks into my room.
Her words are relief and anxiety mixed into one single feeling. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I give her a small smile and dip my chin in a single nod. I know I should be happy about leaving.
Obviously, I suffered no major damage, inside or out. Most of my injuries are aches and pains now and need to be monitored, but now that it’s been a few days and all tests have come back normal, all I can do to continue to heal is to rest my body.
Which means going home and being in bed… but home. The thought of going back there and being there makes me nauseous and nervous. My heart slams against my chest as I try to envision myself walking through my front door.
I can’t.
All I can picture is his face.
Goffredo, Jeffery, whatever the fuck he’s called. All I know is that he’s a monster. The nurse chats as she checks everything, then tells me the doctor will be in shortly to sign off on my release.
“Do you need to call someone to come and get you?” she asks. “If you do, now is a good time to let them know. It’ll be a few hours before you’re completely ready to go, though.”
“I will, thanks,” I murmur.
Posey was able to bring my cell phone here yesterday.
I haven’t been brave enough to turn it on, though.
I don’t know why I’m scared. There’s no reason for me to be.
I shouldn’t be scared at all. Goffredo left me for dead.
He won’t be trying to contact me. If he did, it would just tip off the Vicious Reapers that he’s the one who hurt me.
The nurse leaves me alone, and I reach for my phone, turning it over in my hand a few times before I finally press the button on the side to power it on. I stare at the device for a little longer than I should as the screen comes to life.
All I have to do is put in my passcode, and it will show me all of the notifications I’ve missed while sitting in this stupid bed. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I do it. I put in my code, then watch as the main screen appears.
Flicking my gaze to the screen, I notice the iMessage app has twenty new text messages and the phone app has a little three at the top right-hand corner. I’m not sure I can deal with the text app right now, so I touch the phone one. There are three voicemails.
One is Lainey, one is Posey, and the final one is Goose. I don’t listen to them. I don’t think I could handle hearing Lainey or Posey’s concerned voices. It would probably break me, and right now, I’m holding on by a thread, the barest thread that ever existed.
I decide to read the transcriptions instead. Lainey asks me to call her when I’m ready, and she’ll come over and bring some desserts. I love her. Truly, I do. Posey’s message just says that she would like me to come over to their house to rest and recover.
It’s sweet of her to care, and I know that we’re family and that’s what family does. Except I’m pretty sure that Justin only feels guilty, and I don’t want to be there with him feeling guilty and acting overly protective or any type of way.
Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times as I think about the offer and how I’m going to tell them that I don’t want to be there while simultaneously saying that I don’t want to be at my own place, either.
When I get to Goose’s message, I have to inhale a deep breath and hold it while I read. Unfortunately, even as I read, I can hear his gravelly, sexy voice playing in my head. My heartbeat begins to rapidly thump inside my chest.
How can his being gone be real? I still can’t believe he just packed his shit and left without a word.
And I want to hate him for it, but I can’t, because I love him too much.
I love every part of him, and although I didn’t know him well, I wanted to continue to love all the new parts of him I discovered over the years.
Blinking, I let out my breath in an exhale as I attempt to focus on the words in the voicemail transcription.
Hey, babe. I just… fuck. I don’t know what to say.
I’m coming back to Thunder Rock. You don’t have to see me if you don’t want to.
I’d like to see you, make sure you’re okay, maybe talk a little?
I’m an asshole, Cidney. A huge fucking asshole.
Call me, text me, send Ivy to try and kick my ass again. I don’t know. Something. Okay. Bye
Shit. That’s a good message. A really good one. I close my eyes and let it all soak in. I think about listening to it in his own voice, but decide against it. Instead, I find Lainey’s number and call her.
I know I should be calling Posey and Justin, but I can’t. I just cannot deal with that dynamic right now. I need to breathe, and I can’t do that with Justin breathing down my neck with his guilt.
I need calm and a hug… and maybe some cupcakes.