Chapter 8 #3
Blushing furiously, I shake my head at his dirty mouth even as I do exactly what he says.
While I’m absolutely certain Illi has no interest in me, or anyone but his wife, I’m also sure that he’d give me endless amounts of shit over this entire spectacle…
once he’d thoroughly bleached his brain.
It’s not just respect and devotion to his wife, either; he’s known me since grade school.
The more I think about Harley’s demands, the more I think about Illi and Odie, and my chest starts to ache.
I hope the Jackal hasn’t started to target her.
Again.
Rubbing my arms does nothing to help the shiver that takes over me, and I try to focus on something else before I lose my shit over the reminder of what the Jackal is capable of.
It’s not like I really forgot in the first place, I just try not to dwell on it so I can make it through each day without going fucking batshit.
Watching as Harley digs around in his swim bag, he pulls on his team sweatpants and jacket before zipping it halfway, leaving the ink on his chest still clearly visible.
I’ve never seen him in them before and his shoulders look so broad and defined I’m hot for him all over again, which is both a blessing and a curse.
At least I’m not freaking out anymore, I guess?
Okay, new rule: no fooling around right before we meet up with Illi to exchange important, possibly life-threatening, information.
My hormones are raging and my brain is no longer functioning.
Harley shoots me a questioning look and I nod back to him, watching as he stalks over to the door.
I take a second to try and breathe, before the scuffing sound of him approaching pulls my attention back to where it needs to be.
The Butcher of the Bay couldn’t look more out of place if he tried.
Harley scowls at him, leading Illi over to the bench I’m perched on, his feet eerily silent in his biker boots.
I can smell the acrid scent of tobacco, and the twitching of Illi’s fingers tells me he wishes he was allowed to light up again.
He’s already smirking back at Harley, blowing him a kiss and tugging on his leather jacket with a tattooed, scarred hand, and when he finally glances over to me, I shake my head at his antics.
“I need you two to get along, Illi; please stop provoking him.”
With a shrug that’s too casual for how on-edge I feel, Illi saunters over to join me and drapes a casual arm over my shoulders as he sits down. “Anything for you, kid. How’s school treating you? The uniform is fucking weird here, you look like a dirty-old-man’s wet dream.”
Harley was already glaring at Illi’s arm, but at that little dig his spine snaps straight and he steps forward to snarl, “Fuck. Off.”
I groan internally, but Illi is quick to hold his hands up in mock surrender, his eyes a little too hard to believe the easygoing tone in his voice. “Look at you, assuming I’m a dirty old man! I’ve skinned people for less, little mobster.”
Rolling my eyes at them both, I give Illi a not-so-gentle shove to both deflect his attention away from Harley for a minute and put some space between us.
I trust him, with more than just my life, but I don’t love the idea of him sitting so close to me when I’m barely covered.
At the back of my mind, the part I can never fully shut off, I see the parallels between the connection I have with Illi and what Harley was talking about with Avery earlier, but now really isn’t the time to freak out about why exactly I trust Illi so much.
He’s still eying Harley like this is all some test he’s putting him through, but he cackles as he scoots farther away from me without comment, giving me more than enough space to breathe.
That does more for Harley’s temper than words ever could, and he takes up watch on my other side.
I slip my hand into his, giving him a little squeeze to try to remind him to stay calm.
I doubt it’ll work, but I’m freaking trying.
Illi pointedly doesn’t look at where we’re holding hands, but all of the levity disappears from him.
“Right, well, I’ve had my fun. I was trying to lighten the mood a bit before I break the news to you.
We’re in a world of shit, kid. I hope you’ve got something fucking big up your sleeve because we’re going to need it. ”
Fuck.
I’m not sure I have anything up my sleeve, let alone something big, but I give him a curt nod.
He stares at me, ignoring Harley entirely, and lays it out.
“I asked around about your little crew to see if there’s any word in our corner of the world about any of them, like we discussed.
Make sure we’re on top of anything that might threaten us.
Got a hit back from out of state. Morningstar was approached by Matteo to take out O’Cronin. ”
“It’s Arbour,” I croak reflexively, squeezing my eyes shut for a second to steady myself.
Illi flicks out a dismissive hand gesture. “Right. So, he was contacted about Arbour, which tracks, but I wasn’t expecting him to also be liaising with the senior Joseph Beaumont about your twins.”
My eyes snap to his and the world tilts under me.
What. The. Fuck.
There’s silence for a minute while I try to stop my heart from exploding inside my chest cavity.
Illi turns to watch the water instead of the chaos my expression must be right now and as the moment stretches on, he nods to himself slowly, like he’s agreeing with some internal monologue he has going on.
“Who the fuck is Morningstar?” Harley snaps when he’s finally had enough of waiting for answers.
“The Devil,” I whisper, and Illi gives me a chagrined smile.
His eyes look over to meet Harley’s and, whether my boyfriend has passed some test or earned himself a reprieve, Illi doesn’t try to provoke him this time. He assesses him for a heartbeat before turning back to the water.
His voice is flat, even, and low, but it does nothing to hide the horror of his explanation.
“Morningstar, or the Devil himself as some call him, is as close to a monster as a man can get. He once walked into the biggest MC clubhouse in the country with no backup and took out every patch in it. It wasn’t clean either.
I’m not talking about a shootout or, fuck, even a bomb.
The man painted the fucking walls with biker innards; the city had to provide crisis counseling to the first responders because it was the stuff of nightmares are made of.
When the cops ran forensics, there were over thirty different strains of DNA, but no bodies were ever found and it’s still ‘unsolved’.
He’s a sociopath. He feels nothing. If he goes after you, we’re fucked.
If he goes after your cousins, we’re fucked.
If he leaves his state, and wanders the hell into Mounts Bay? We. Are. Fucked.”
It takes me a full minute to remember how to breathe.
Harley groans under his breath and scrubs his face with both his hands. “Why is there always someone worse? I thought you were the fucking worst there was.”
That breaks the somber mood a little, and Illi smiles like Harley’s just called him pretty.
“So sweet of you to say, but there is always someone worse. I for one never want to meet whoever the fuck is worse than Morningstar. Any idea on why that fuck Beaumont wants his own kids dead? Or why he can’t just do it for himself?
I’m not gonna ask what they’ve done to piss him off; I’m sure the cunt deserves it and I’ve never known you to put up with dickheads. Well, other than that cock D’Ardo.”
I grimace and shrug. “They haven’t done anything, except survive the bullshit they’ve been put through. I know some of why their family is messed up, but I’ll get the rest of the details and we can work this out. Fuck.”
Illi cuts me another look. “Kid, there’s no dealing with the devil. This isn’t a story from old; you can’t cut a deal. If he takes the job from Beaumont… they’re gone. All of them.”
I swallow roughly. There’s no way I’m letting that happen. No. Fucking. Way. “Reach out to everyone and tell them that the twins are mine. Morrison too.”
Illi blows out a breath and rubs his jaw, his skull rings catching the light and grinning at me ominously. “You inducting them?”
Harley’s gaze is like a brand on my skin as he watches me, but I only shake my head.
“I haven’t asked them, just put it out there that they’re under my protection.
I don’t care how you word it, just make sure word gets out that if anyone touches them, they answer to me.
If Morningstar takes the job… I’ll start calling in favors. ”
Harley glares at the ground, his fists clenched dangerously. Illi stares at him and then says, softly, like this time he’s testing his grit, “It’ll be war, kid.”
Harley shrugs. “They’re richer than God, if we need to we’ll get them out of the country. I hear Antarctica is nice this time of the year. Ash will fucking love that.”