Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
AYDA
There was so much going on in my head, it actually felt strange to walk out of the room and into the bar where no one knew what was going on inside of my body.
I hadn’t realized I’d been in a bubble with Drew about the baby until I looked around and saw every guy in the place meeting my gaze and wincing because of my damn bruises.
For them, the physical abuse was still their main focus when they looked at me, and from the scowls they all wore, the fact that the bruises had been issued by someone they’d considered one of them, stung.
I didn’t know what to say to appease the situation. I knew reassurance was pointless. The men of the club looked fit to be tied.
When I spotted Deeks behind the bar restocking the shelves with liquor, I headed straight for him. He seemed like a safe bet, and I was hoping he needed the distraction as much as I did. Sliding into the stool directly behind him, I slapped my palm against the counter.
“What’s a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?”
Deeks spun in a jerky motion, his cut slapping his sides as he floundered and almost dropped the bottle of bourbon in his hands. After a quick save, he pushed the bottle onto the counter and shook his head in disbelief.
“Jesus, kid, you trying to kill me?” He paused and reached out a hand, his index finger brushing over the swollen bruises by my eye. He frowned, creating deeper creases in his forehead. “Makes me wanna kill the bastard all over again.”
“It’s done now,” I said, catching Deeks’ warm hand and holding it affectionately between the two of mine. “I’m not made of glass, Deeks. They’re just bruises.”
“They shouldn’t be there, and certainly not at the hand of a Hound.”
It was my turn to scowl. All that my bruised face was doing was reminding each and every one these guys that one of their own had been working against them for years. It hurt me to know it hurt them to look at me.
“He was never a real Hound. A Hound would never have done any of this. Not to me or any woman attached to the club. A Hound would never have betrayed you guys or done the shit he’d been doing.
He wouldn’t have stolen your money, given away your secrets.
.. not any of it. The rat bastard was a snake who wore the cut and convinced us all that he fit in.
He convinced us that he deserved to be here.
But, Deeks, he’s just one man, and we can’t let that one man be responsible for everything falling apart.
Especially not now; not when we need to be united. ”
Deeks curled his fingers around my hand and squeezed in encouragement, but the hurt he was feeling was still worn right there in his eyes.
This wound cut deep and was going to scar the club for good.
Owen’s betrayal would always be something they looked back on, a shadow cast over that blind trust they’d always had for one another.
This realization pissed me off more than anything Owen had physically done or said to me.
The asshole had secured himself in this club’s history for good.
Owen Sinclair would never be forgotten, even when he deserved to been buried in obscurity as though he hadn’t existed at all.
“Drew will figure it all out. He always does. Don’t you worry about that,” Deeks said confidently.
At least that faith in their leader hadn’t changed. Belief in Drew was something every man seemed to have in common. I could see Moose nodding at the other end of the bar in agreement. Raising his bottle, Moose mumbled something unintelligible before drowning it out with a mouthful of beer.
Deeks looked concerned for only a moment before turning his attention back to me. “You want a coffee?” he asked.
I would have physically killed for a coffee.
My body was craving it with as much enthusiasm as I needed oxygen, but what little I knew about pregnancy, I understood caffeine wasn’t a great idea—at least not in the capacity I suddenly needed it.
Shaking my head in refusal was far harder than I’d thought it would be, and I watched Deeks’ eyebrows rise in surprise. I never said no to coffee.
I guess I did now.
“What? You think Drew didn’t feed me caffeine already?” I asked flippantly.
“Smart man. I’ve seen you without your coffee before. Terrifying.” Deeks mocked a shudder.
I stuck out my tongue and grinned at him, releasing his hand when he finally moved to tug it from my grip.
His eyes had flickered to the door that was now bleeding bright sunshine into the darkness.
I followed his gaze and immediately recognized Howard Sutton strolling in with the same confidence he’d had for the last couple of months.
I never got tired of seeing how at home he was in this world now.
Gone was the hand resting on the grip of his gun, and the swagger he’d always used to exert control. The only thing close to that now was his thumbs hanging over the buckle of his belt as he scanned the place.
“Is that coffee I smell, Deeks?”
“Is that a hint, chief?”
Sutton rolled his eyes, but Deeks shot me a wink and headed to the kitchen, leaving Howard and me alone at the bar. Howard settled himself on the stool next to mine and shifted his belt to the side so he was more comfortable before he turned to face me.
“No one gave you steak or peas yet?”
“Jeeze, you asking me out to dinner, Howard?” I asked teasingly, my smile breaking free.
“For your eye, smartass. It helps with the bruising.”
“I’m fine. It’ll heal.”
He nodded but tangled his hands together in front of him on top of the bar. To his credit, he only looked at the door once, but I could see there was something on his mind. If there was anyone suddenly capable of looking uncomfortably comfortable, it was Howard Sutton.
“They’re watching The Hut, Ayda.”
This wasn’t a surprise to me. Slater had noticed them, along with half of the other guys that had come and gone this morning.
I’d already received a couple of texts about it.
We’d been ignoring them, maintaining the fact that we had nothing to hide, but I could see why that would make Howard uncomfortable.
He wasn’t supposed to be showing off his connection with us. Not as blatantly as this, anyway.
“You shouldn’t technically be here, I’m guessing?” I asked.
“Probably not.” He paused and looked around the place, his cheeks ballooning as he released his breath. “You want to take a ride to Rusty’s for lunch?”
“Sure. Let me text Drew and let him know.”
Howard rose beside me and watched as I pulled out my phone and typed in where I was going, who I was with, and who was watching my back before sliding the phone into my pocket and following Howard to the door.
I knew, without a doubt, that Deeks would be following me any second now.
He was set on automatic Protect Ayda mode, and that only ever made me smile to myself.
Howard and I were sitting in his car before either of us spoke again.
He’d just waved to the two cops watching The Hut, and I couldn’t help but smile as they stayed where they were and just narrowed their eyes in our general direction.
I wondered whether they would follow Deeks when he pulled out, forcing them to have to put yet another car on The Hut.
With all the guys going in their own directions on any given day, I was pretty sure they’d run out of cars long before we’d run out of guys.
“Do they think you’re questioning me?”
“Not exactly sure what those a-holes think. They’ve been at my station moving crap around and making demands of my staff like they own the place.”
Howard’s frustration was very real. He didn’t like that kind of authority hanging around, and from the looks of things, he really didn’t like that they were using his station as a base of operations. Especially after they’d all but accused him of betraying his position after the mess at Rusty’s.
“You’ve been working a lot lately,” I commented quietly.
Glancing over at me for a second, Sutton quirked an eyebrow before turning his gaze back to the road. “I don’t like strangers in my house. They’re loud and disrespectful. Why? Has Sloane been complaining?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Howard gave me a single nod as he turned toward the diner.
The man still didn’t like to get chatty about his personal life.
He never really had. I think that was why he’d always hated when Sloane and Tate had been together.
He had to deal with all the pleasantries that came along with that—something Maisey had taken over for him after they’d married.
Thinking about Maisey suddenly made me think about the kids they’d had together.
“How are the twins?”
“Growing up too fast,” he said after a beat. “They’ve been asking after their momma a lot. Sloane always manages to field the questions, but she’s spending more and more time with Tate and his friends. I’ve been trying to find them alternative care.”
“Bet that’s expensive.”
“It’s insanity, but I can’t keep asking Sloane to give up her teen years being a mother she’d never wanted to be.” He turned onto the highway and sped up. Rusty’s giant sign was barely on the horizon, so I kept talking.
“How’s Helen?”
Sutton did a double take on me like I’d lost my damn mind. I supposed it would seem that way after the warning Drew had issued with her release. Me? I was genuinely curious.
“Helen Taylor is terrified, Ayda. Her whole life has been turned upside down. She was being held captive, her husband was murdered, and now her life has been threatened.”
“Has she spoken to her girls yet?”
“What is with all the questions?”
“It’s called a conversation, Howard. I was just curious. I know Helen was worried about them while she was with us, and I figured the first thing she would have done when she was free was call them.”
“She did. Apparently, they’re fine and looking forward to seeing their mom.”
“That’s good.”