Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
LoneStar
I try to go on as if it’s business as usual, but my mind keeps wandering down a road to thoughts of Britton and the circumstances surrounding her taking off.
What if our one night together has consequences neither one of us is prepared for?
Will she come back if that happens, or will she hide it from me?
If she does, may Lucifer himself have mercy on her soul because I’ll have none for her.
Whenever anger strikes, I remind myself that she didn’t run because of potential pregnancy, she hauled ass because she lied and couldn’t face me after doing so.
Thinking that way should help and keep me from losing my shit, but even the mere thought of having a kid out there fatherless, has me seeing life through a red haze of indignation.
Slayer volun-told me he was my new riding partner this morning before taking my turn of pressuring Patrick to come out and play—something, up until now, he hasn’t done.
We’ve set the bait on the hook, we just need him to nibble on it so we can reel him in.
As we park at the corner of the street and shut off our bikes, I glance Slayer’s way, waiting for him to say whatever it is he needs to so I can put my attention where it needs to be, on this job, not dissecting my emotions and temperament.
Finally, he speaks up, demanding more than asking, “Wanna tell me what’s got your balls in a bunch? You’ve been stomping around and barking at anyone who tries talking to you. If something hurts you, it hurts us. Stop bottling it up and spit that shit out, LoneStar.”
“You here to play therapist, Slayer?” I ask, grinding my jaw.
“If that’s what you need me to be, then yeah, I guess I am. But first of all, I’m your friend, your brother, and no matter what, your ally. You’ll never catch judgment from me unless you’ve done something stupid that’ll blow back on the club,” he states.
“If I was to do something stupid that’d come back on the club, I’d have told y’all already, Slayer. I’m a man, not a boy playing one, I take responsibility for my actions,” I say, seething.
“Never said you were or you did, LoneStar,” he grits out, narrowing his eyes at me. “Pay attention to what I’m saying before spewing off at the mouth.”
“Fucking hell,” I mumble, closing my eyes and inhaling, counting to ten, then exhaling.
Once I feel somewhat centered, I turn my attention to him and begin spilling my guts.
I begin with the first time I set eyes on her and how she drew me in like a moth to the flame, and I end with her tucking her tail and scurrying away like a wounded animal.
It all spills out, every gruesome detail down to my feelings and shit.
Slayer whistles, shaking his head. “That’s a lot of shit to hold inside, LoneStar.”
“It’s personal, not club business, I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own,” I grouse. “Like I’ve said, I’m a big boy, I don’t need my brothers holding my hand or coddling me.”
“I don’t know a single brother who’d coddle you, asshole,” Slayer mentions. “But we’d hold your hand if you really wanted us to.” He dramatically flutters his eyelashes at me and puckers his lips.
“Asshole,” I mumble. “What would you do if it was you in my predicament?”
“Give her time,” he says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “From what you’ve said, her childhood was shit. She’s struggling with doing something that isn’t her norm. She needs some distance and time to get her head out of her ass and face the consequences of her actions.”
“How much time?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest and scowling at him.
He didn’t necessarily tell me what I wanted to hear, but the thing about that is, I’m not sure what I wanted him to say that’d appease me. It’s not like there’s an easy answer to this dilemma I’m in, no matter how much I wish there was.
“However much time it takes,” he answers around a sigh. “I wish I had all the answers to the questions you have, but this is a tricky situation. The human mind is a mystery, not all of us think the same way.”
“I know that,” I spit out, snapping at him. “I do, Slayer. But I… I can’t let this go. Not until I know if there’s a baby or not.”
“You wouldn’t be a good man like I know you are if you did,” he announces. “You can give her a few weeks to wrap her head around shit though, LoneStar. If she is expecting, it’s too early to know yet, give her a chance to do the right thing before you track her down and cart her back to town.”
“I won’t be carting her anywhere, I’ll bring her back kicking and screaming and tying her to me for life,” I avow.
“Are we talking about a shotgun wedding?” Slayer asks, not looking amused but worried for my sanity.
“If that’s what it takes to keep her with me, then yes, we are,” I validate.
“You can’t force somebody to marry you, LoneStar,” he reasons.
“If she’s carrying my child, watch me,” I challenge.
“Brother, it’s intervention time,” Slayer says, his face turning serious. “If you try to trap a mouse, they’re going to run in the other direction. You cannot, under any circumstances, hold a gun to somebody’s head and bend them to your will. That’s not a good start to any marriage.”
I peer at him out of the corner of my eye and say, “Don’t care. If she’s carrying my seed in her womb, her fate is sealed. End of motherfucking story.”
“You hardheaded bastard,” Slayer lambasts. “No matter what, we’ll have your back but I want you to think about it before you act. Once you shoot that arrow, there’s no bringing it back. Gravity doesn’t work that way.”
His critique of me and my plan has me feeling betrayed.
The best part of being in the brotherhood is knowing that your back is always covered.
Now, I need him to watch mine and help me cement Britton to me if she is carrying my kid.
Why is it so hard for him to see things from my point of view?
I will not let any child I spawn feel abandoned, no matter what I have to do to keep them from feeling that way, I will.
Even if that means I have to handcuff their mother to me, willing or otherwise.
“I’ll do whatever is necessary for my kid to have my last name and legally bind him or her to me.
Britton has already proved she’s a runner, and she won’t be taking off with my kid, Slayer.
That’s a guaranteed fact. I will have rights when it comes to my blood.
I need a leg to stand on if she gets a wild hair up her ass and needs to hit the road. ”
“When you put it that way, I see where you’re coming from,” he remarks. “Can’t say I envy the position you find yourself in, brother. What a shitshow.”
“I’m knee deep in it,” I comment. “But, Slayer, I’m telling you right here and right now, if she is expecting, I will make her mine… one way or another.”
“Guess right now you’re at a standstill. There’s nothing to be done until you know one way or the other if there’s consequences to that night, LoneStar.”
“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get eyes on the streets and find her. I’ll give her a chance to do the right thing, Slayer. But once I have confirmation and she doesn’t rectify things, I’ll be going after her.”
“And we’ll go with you,” he promises. “We won’t let you stand alone, brother. That’s not the way we do things.”
“Even if what I’m doing isn’t something you support?” I ask, needing him to confirm that he will.
“Even if,” he says, nodding his head.
Slayer and I stare at the window where the curtain keeps getting drawn back and Patrick continues sticking his nose out of. “Think he’s feeling trapped?” I ask, thinking back to his mouse comment when we were talking about Britton.
“Sure ‘nuff,” he laughs. “He’s acting like a caged animal.”
“We definitely have him cornered,” I observe. “He’s awfully twitchy, isn’t he?”
“Good. He needs to be, the twitchier the better if you were to ask me. It’ll cause him to make a mistake. Hopefully, that means he’ll lead us to that fuckwit Jerome.”
“There’s a reason he’s still hiding like a coward,” I point out, my eyes never straying from the window. “They’re planning something.”
“A hit on the clubhouse most likely,” Slayer says, voicing my thoughts out loud.
“I’m surprised they haven’t struck yet,” I mention, mentally mulling over and cataloguing what could have them stalling.
What are they waiting for?
What’s their agenda?
Are they trying to make us antsy thinking we’d let our guard down?
Picking up my earlier statement, I add, “They’ve sworn to attack us often enough that it makes one wonder what they’re playing at.”
“If you were them, what would have you holding off?” Slayer asks, and the way he does so has this feeling like a teaching moment. He always does this, wanting us to think outside of the box and get in the minds of our enemy.
“New variables,” I conclude.
“Such as what?” he continues his probing.
“New residents and construction with unknowns entering the property,” I respond.
“And if your enemy had a company coming on and off the land all hours of the day, what would you do, LoneStar?”
“Infiltrate and put a man inside,” I conclude.
“Exactly. We have a mole who’s watching for our weak points,” he verifies.
“You and Rip are aware of this?” I question.
“Yes. It’s why Icer and Shade are making menaces of themselves,” he retorts.
“They’re shaking things up by playing a game of Red Rover with the construction crew, huh?” I ask, chuckling.
“Recess was always my favorite time of day,” he muses.
“Sneaky bastards,” I harrumph.
“Can’t catch a bee without honey, LoneStar.”
“And you can’t remove their stingers until you catch them,” I tack on.
“Exactly,” Slayer agrees as we hear motors revving, closing in on us. “Looks like it’s quitting time. Wanna head back and watch Icer and Shade do their thing?”
“Absolutely. It’s been a minute since I’ve had a reason to laugh,” I tell him.
“I’ll grab the cooler, stock it with beer and snacks, then meet you at the bonfire.
” It may be daytime, and we may not light the fire, but it’s the central part of our property and we’ll be able to watch Icer and Shade play their cat and mouse game without any obstructions.
He nods his head, salutes our brothers that are here to relieve us, and takes off with me following behind him.