Chapter Forty-Five – Ryan
In the ensuing silence, disbelief hit Ryan, immediately followed by fear. He was afraid to hope Rory told the truth.
Rory dug in his pocket and produced a key. His mouth moved. Through the whirring in his head, Ryan heard Rory recite the details—information given by Bash—as if he were in a tunnel.
Dread filled Ryan’s gut. He knew Bash and Cleaner. He knew the games they played. Willard and Wally, too. It was how they’d jerked Ryan along since his fateful decision.
Uncle Christopher frowned. “Dead Molly?”
“You never knew for sure, though,” Ryan said, his anxiety rising. “You just suspected because you couldn’t find her.”
His cold gaze veered between Rory and Ryan several times. It took everything in Ryan not to slide to the floor and hide from those probing eyes without a shred of warmth. Or friendliness. Or even compassion.
“How the fuck you get the key, Rory?” he demanded, though Ryan had just told him almost everything.
Rory flushed.
“Johnnie still fucking with Bash?”
Ryan knew he was, but that wasn’t the case here.
“No, Uncle Christopher!” Rory squeaked. “I swear. It…Mom…she might’ve asked…” His face crumpled. “No one betrayed you,” he whispered. “I swear.”
Sweat beaded Ryan’s brow and he shifted in his seat, more afraid now than when he’d confessed to Uncle Christopher and at that time he’d almost pissed himself.
But he couldn’t continue to live with all this guilt.
For Molly and Harley. He’d felt lighter, but not completely free because he still had to unfuck what he’d done to Harley, Mattie, and Rebel.
Holding Rory’s gaze captive with his, Uncle Christopher pulled out his cellphone and pressed a few numbers, then sat it on the table.
“Is everything okay?” Stretch asked, bypassing a normal greeting.
“How long it take you to tap into a fuckin’ camera?”
“It depends on if the place is on the grid and if they have working cameras.”
“Rory, get CJ here,” he ordered, not immediately responding to Stretch. “Mort, call Diesel. Tell him to arm up. Make sure he bring Bishop. Val, find Potter, Narci, Huck, Torrin, Zephyr, and Pike. Stretch, Bash gave Rory a fuckin’ key. Supposedly for Molly Harris.” He gave Rory the once over again.
“It might be a fuckin’ set up,” Uncle Christopher went on. “We could walk in that motherfucker and they blow us the fuck up. Pull any fuckin’ footage you fuckin’ can. Even if you can’t see her, try to find out if they’re lurkin’. Or, fuck, loitered long enough to plant bombs.”
“I-I’ll go in,” Ryan volunteered, suddenly inspired.
“As long as we leave now. If she’s there, Bash might change his mind and take her back.
” That was the truth, but it would also get the heat off Rory—and himself.
Obviously, Uncle Christopher thought they were working together.
“Bash probably is watching. His ideas change with his mood swings. If we take too long, we might never see her again. We don’t have time to waste, so I volunteer. ”
Panic entered Pops’ eyes. “That’s commendable, boy, but you not even armed.”
“As much as I want to fuck you up, I ain’t puttin’ you at risk, Ryan,” Uncle Christopher gritted.
“Outlaw?” Pops said, fear in his eyes. “What…?” Swallowing, he looked at Ryan. “What did you do, boy?”
So fucking much. Ryan didn’t even know where to begin.
“Ain’t got time to explain right now, Val,” Uncle Christopher said.
Ten minutes later, CJ offered to storm the hotel room, just as Ryan had.
Once again, Uncle Christopher declined and started barking out orders and plans.
Ryan had never seen such chaos in the conference room.
Cellphones were ringing. Diesel, Narci, and Torrin carried in bulletproof vests and wheeled in a portable gun cabinet.
Pops took a big map out of the closet in the conference room and spread it out on the table.
He pointed out businesses, houses, shrubs, and forested areas between the club and the motel and the motel and Aunt Kendall’s law office.
A lot of hiding spots and places to plant explosives existed.
Maybe someone called Grant because he arrived amid the planning, strategizing, issuing extra guns, and putting their bulletproof vests under their T-shirts.
“Outlaw, are we leaving CJ, Ryan, Rory, and Grant?” Diesel asked.
“What?” Ryan and CJ chorused.
“You boys don’t have vests,” Narci said.
“And you not fuckin’ members,” Uncle Christopher reminded them, a warning in his voice.
“You take a shot to the fucking upper body, you can be killed or paralyzed.”
“Ryan, that’s your old man call. Grant, get the fuck home. Rory, CJ, it’s too fuckin’ risky—”
“Pops, I have to go,” Ryan said, his tone pleading. “Suppose she doesn’t recognize anyone else?”
“If she there or still fuckin’ breathin’,” Uncle Christopher snapped.
CJ clenched his jaw.
“They might have spare vests in the storage room on the last hallway,” Narci said.
“Can I look, Dad?” CJ asked.
“If they ain’t there, you not coming. If they are, call your ma. Tell her what the fuck’s goin’ on.”
“Okay, Dad.”
No one stopped Ryan, Rory, and Grant from following him, but instead of turning right and heading toward the hallway that led to all the other rooms in the club, CJ guided them outside, where he called Aunt Meggie and filled her in.
Whatever she said eased his tension because he ended with a smile.
“Tell Outlaw how you got the key, Rory,” CJ ordered, once he hung up. “It might speed this up so we can get to the motel. If he doesn’t think there’s a huge threat, we can go.”
Pursing his lips, Rory gave Ryan an uncertain look.
As much as Ryan wanted to help him because he’d somehow convinced Easton to help him, he couldn’t. He was in deep enough shit as it was.
Seeing he’d get no assistance from Ryan, Rory looked at Grant, who lifted his brows. What the fuck was wrong with Rory? Grant knew even less than CJ.
“I told you Bash gave it to me,” Rory finally said.
“Yeah, but why?” CJ pressed. “If you tell him everything, not only will we leave sooner, we might have a clearer picture and a better idea if she’s really there.”
“I don’t want to be responsible for…she’s there. I know it.”
“What aren’t you saying?” Grant asked. “There’s more to the story.”
“If I tell the truth, someone will die and that’s a shitty fucking reward for helping us get Molly back,” Rory snapped.
Those words confirmed Ryan’s suspicions that Easton helped. DeLuca was the only motherfucker with that much fairness.
CJ glanced between Ryan and Rory, cocked his head to the side and narrowed his green eyes, Outlaw’s mini-me slowly reemerging after weeks of hiding. “Was Uncle Johnnie the mediator?”
Sighing, Ryan glanced away and shook his head. He flinched at the heat of CJ’s gaze. It burned into him, and he was certain if he’d looked at his cousin just then, he would’ve been incinerated.
“Then it was Easton,” CJ guessed after a few moments of contemplation. “He’s a fucking Scorpion, right? Uncle Johnnie has never in his miserable fucking life sponsored and suddenly he’s bringing a motherfucker to the club?”
“Easton is Bash’s son,” Rory admitted quietly. “Our cousin.”
Ryan and Rory both stepped back at the unholy fury dropping into CJ’s eyes and twisting his face.
“Motherfucker!” CJ rushed Rory and socked him in the gut. “Bash sent him to kidnap my mom and you didn’t fucking say anything?”
Coughing and sputtering, Rory shook his head. “No! No! He sent DeLuca to fuck with my dad.”
“Liar!” CJ spat, smarter than Uncle Johnnie ever could hope to be. With all the rumors that were circulated about Aunt Meggie, along with Bash’s intentions, a fucking blind man could see the truth. “Do you think that motherfucker’s going to announce he wants to hurt Mom, motherfucker?”
“Rory’s telling the truth,” Ryan said, stepping in for so many different reasons.
The jig was up, anyway. He’d confessed to Uncle Christopher, though he still hadn’t said that, as far as he knew, Aunt Meggie was probably in danger.
Ryan just didn’t know. Besides, that seemed like an automatic death sentence and he was as afraid to die as he was of prison.
“Aunt Meggie wasn’t in danger from DeLuca.
He doesn’t like killing women. Bash sent him to see how much he could get Johnnie to do. ”
“Go the fuck inside and tell Dad about Easton, Ryan,” CJ said in a hard voice, then transferred his glare to Rory.
“I’m sorry, C.,” he said, on the verge of tears. “I just wanted to help get Molly back. You’ve been so upset and…I’m sorry.”
It no longer mattered to Ryan if they got Molly back for him, CJ, or anyone. As long as she was safe.
“You also wanted to protect your dad,” CJ spat, guilty and livid.
Rory’s devotion to his father was well established.
When CJ had his chance to pound their cousin into the fucking ground, he hadn’t.
He’d said it wasn’t personal enough. But this was personal.
This directly affected his mother. “It’s always about him with you. ”
“Not at the expense of Aunt Meggie!” Rory protested. “I promise if she was in danger, I would’ve t-told.”
“You’re a lying motherfucker, Rory. Everyone’s expendable as long as that fuckhead is safe. Fuck you. My mom could’ve been killed or hurt or raped, so—”
“Is it so fucking bad that I don’t want my dad to die?” Rory exploded. “Fuck you, you spoiled, selfish prick. Fuck you. My dad is as important to me as your mom is to you.”
“You know why, Rory?” CJ said, not backing down.
Ryan would bet money that if his cousin was packing, he would’ve shot the fuck out of Rory.
“Because you’re as pathetic as that motherfucker. You risked your own fucking life for a man who doesn’t have the fucking brain to see a fucking setup or the heart to care.”
“That’s my dad,” Rory said tearfully.
If Ryan and Grant hadn’t grabbed CJ, he would’ve pulverized Rory.
“And that’s my mom.” CJ strained against their hold.
Ryan and Grant struggled to contain him. It dawned on Ryan that his cousin was now close to six feet. If he still worked out as he was once had, they would’ve been fucked, even with Grant being slightly taller and more muscular.
“No one came for your dad, Rory,” CJ said, growling in frustration. “Every motherfucking thing that’s happening to that fuckhead, he brought on his fucking self.”
“I keep hoping—”
“What? That he’ll get some fucking sense? Not happening. What will happen is you will fuck up yourself if you don’t step out of the fucking way and let that fuckhead face the consequences of his own fuckery.”
Ryan’s hold slackened. Or Grant’s. Fuck, CJ had been struggling so much, Ryan was surprised they’d held him back as long as they had. Rory screamed and darted behind Grant.
CJ started toward Grant.
“Fuck him up later, CJ,” Grant advised. “Think about Molly.”
“CJ, I promise I’ll do better,” Rory called, still using Grant as a shield. “But if we tell the truth, both my dad and DeLuca will die. As fucked up as my dad is, I don’t want to lose him. I hate him so fucking much, but I love him, too.”
Releasing a roar—slightly unhinged—CJ gnashed his teeth together.
Grant and Ryan exchanged wary looks.
“If Bash sent DeLuca only to fuck with Johnnie—” Grant started.
“It was more than that,” CJ insisted bitterly. “It all makes fucking sense. Bash wanted DeLuca to fuck with my parents’ marriage.”
“That isn’t true!” Rory insisted.
Uncle Christopher needed zero help on that front. He’d done the heavy lifting and almost ruined him and Aunt Meggie.
“Then why does that motherfucker so conveniently look like her celebrity crush?” CJ snapped.
“It was to tempt my mom. Hurt my dad. Destroy their marriage. Because why the fuck not?” he said sarcastically.
“It isn’t as if that motherfucker wasn’t fucked with enough these past few weeks.
But it wasn’t only to fuck with my mom and dad.
I can fucking bet Bash wanted to see how fucking stupid Uncle Johnnie was.
Congratulations! Motherfucker won the idiot of the century award. ”
Ryan would’ve howled with laughter if he hadn’t remembered that Sunday in Uncle Johnnie’s office when he’d warned both that fuckhead and Easton.
When Dementor and company sent those naked photos of Aunt Meggie to most of the younger members and close club contacts. They’d humiliated her in secret. Bash had also shown it at his clubhouse.
And, now, Uncle Christopher was Outlaw again and Aunt Meggie didn’t intend to stop his crazy. And Diesel… And CJ.
Oh goddamn, they were so fucked.
CJ glowered at Ryan. “You knew, huh?”
“W-w-w-what d-d-d-d-did I-I-I-I kn-know?” he stammered.
CJ growled, and Ryan joined Rory behind Grant’s back.
Ryan had never seen CJ so furious. Not even when Ryan fucked with Harley.
“I’m sorry, CJ,” Ryan said, close to tears, so fucking afraid, his mind racing with a way to tell Aunt Meggie so she could help him and Rory stay alive.
Without warning, CJ snatched handfuls of Ryan and Rory’s hair. “Open the fucking door, Grant,” he barked and dragged them into the fucking clubhouse.