Chapter Three
Rune
“You ready?” Croft asked, looking surprisingly bright-eyed and rested after a night of partying.
“For what?” I asked, not quite as refreshed.
What can I say? When you were almost shot in cold blood, it kind of kept you up at night.
“The home improvement store. You demanded I come with you, remember?”
Shit.
Yeah.
I had done that.
“Even though it’s Cane and Spike who are supposed to be doing the grunt work now,” Croft reminded me.
I didn’t even need the help, not really. And logically, I should have told him never mind, that I wasn’t going to get the project started yet. But I was going to need something to do to keep my mind busy while I tried to figure out who the mystery woman was… and why she wanted me dead.
“I didn’t need your help with supplies. I figured you wanted to make your room your own too.”
“Hadn’t really thought about it. But I guess I can get some paint. You wanna head out?”
I wanted answers, but I also needed my brother not to be suspicious.
And I was just not the kind of man who changed plans once I roped someone else into them.
So I took the SUV, and he grabbed his bike, and we went to the home improvement store, gathering paint, wood, a patch kit (because whoever had the room before Croft had either punched or fucked someone into the wall by the bed), and various tools I was going to need to bring my idea to life.
“Why don’t you head back? I think I’m gonna go take a run by the beach before I head back.
” I was taking a risk there. When we lived in Puerto Rico, Croft and I ran on the beach pretty much every day.
I was putting my faith to rest in the fact that since we came back to the States, Croft developed more of a fondness for indoor exercise instead of dying in the heat with me.
“Yeah, have fun with that.” Croft peeled off, none the wiser about my actual plans.
I waited to make sure he was way ahead of me before turning the SUV in the direction of Navesink Bank.
And right to my cousin’s place.
“Rune,” Junior greeted me, brows pinched, when I got to the door of the warehouse home. “Can’t imagine you’re dropping in for coffee and danishes.”
“No.”
“Good. Because I’m fresh out of danishes.”
He stepped out of the way.
Junior was a cousin by the friendship of our moms, not actual blood, like with all of my cousins.
He was tall and fit with dark blond hair and blue eyes.
He looked more like a bodybuilder than what he actually was: a hacker.
A really good one, considering his mom had been one before him, and his godmother was one as well.
And I needed help from one.
“Let me guess,” Junior said, dropping down in his office chair and turning to face me as I sat on his couch. “You have a job for me and I can’t talk to anyone else about it. Especially the club.”
“Been here before, huh?”
“You’d be surprised how often one of the cousins darkens my doorstep.”
“You’ve got my discretion. So, what’s going on? Is this the shady shit you were involved with while you were away coming to bite you in the ass?”
“I don’t know what it is.”
Junior leaned back, making the chair creak.
“You’re in the vault here. The more I know, the more likely it is that I can help you figure it out.”
“Alright. Last night, a woman walked through the front doors of the clubhouse, asked for me by name, and when I told her she was looking for me, she raised a gun and…”
Junior’s gaze tracked over me.
“Well, you’re not shot.”
“Well, she clearly wasn’t a pro.” I sighed. “She was shaking like a fucking leaf, but there was a determined look in her eye.”
“How’d you talk her out of it?”
“I didn’t. Perish and Dezi showed up, so I grabbed her and the gun and stopped them from seeing what was going on.”
“Didn’t want her dead. Though, I doubt Dezi or Perish would have shot first.”
“Didn’t wanna take a chance. She was in no shape to make a rational decision. It would have been risky.”
“Let me guess, she got away before you could get any information about her.”
“Yep. All I got is this,” I said, reaching to pull out the gun. “And that she was parked down the block. There should be some footage you can get. Like I said, she’s no mastermind. I doubt she knew enough to cover or change out her plates.”
“Alright. I’ll get on it. What’d she look like?”
“Dressed all in black. Tall, kind of athletic, but still feminine. Dark hair pulled back.”
“Got it. Say I find her name quickly, you want that right away, or do you want me to draft up a file on her first?”
“Name and address as soon as you can.”
“Got it. I’ll start as soon as you head out.”
“Thanks. I’ll get you cash as soon as I get to the bank.”
“I know you’re good for it.” Junior paused, watching me for a second. “You alright?”
“Yeah. I mean… as alright as you can be after a stranger pulls a gun on you, I guess.”
“Why not tell the club?”
“Because there are things about my past that the club doesn’t know.”
“I figured that. But your brother was right there with you.”
“And I’ll bring him on it if I need to. I’ll bring the whole club, if that’s necessary. But I want to do the information-gathering stage on my own without a bunch of noise to worry about.”
“I get that.”
“How long do you think it will take?”
“If I can get the plates, not long at all.”
“If you can’t?”
“Longer. I mean, not being a pro is good in you not being dead right now. But it’s bad in that I would have no mugshots to run off of, no chatter about her online. Chances are, though, I will get the plates. In which case, I will likely have what you need by tonight.”
“Great. I’ll let you get to it then.”
The squeak of his chair told me he followed me to the door.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?” I asked, turning.
“You sure you’re good?”
I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright. I’ll be better when I have some answers.”
“Then I’ll get you some. Stick by your phone.”
With that, I made my way out, feeling a little lighter as I made my way back to the clubhouse.
If I expected some peace and quiet, though, that idea was squashed almost immediately. It seemed like while we were gone shopping, the rest of the partiers woke up and started all over again.
Some part of me craved calm.
But once I set up the sawhorses and tools and got to work on the room projects, it was pretty easy to drown out the hooting and squealing and music coming from the backyard.
I was nobody’s woodworker when I left Navesink Bank, but I had some basic tool knowledge from helping out my dad and uncles.
But I’d learned some shit from some neighbor when my brother and I lived in Puerto Rico.
I would probably live to old age and never be the master he was, but it felt good to be working with my hands again.
If for no other reason than to keep my mind from running away with me.
The saw was so loud that I didn’t hear the bike as it pulled into the driveway.
But then there was a shadow falling over me, making me glance up. And there was my father. A snapshot of my own future. He looked a lot like my brother and I, just with some extra years and a flash of gray.
“When’d you get so good with tools?”
“Just a hobby I picked up. Trying to make my room look less dreary. I’m happy to be out of the bunk bed, but I miss the windows.”
“It was weird as fuck to move into a normal house with windows and natural light after being in the clubhouse so long. But enjoy it while you’re here. Life moves fast enough without wishing it away. Speaking of… the fuck are you doing out here by yourself when I hear music and girls out back?”
I shrugged at that.
“I planned to work on this. Didn’t realize there was a party until I got back from the store.”
“Right. And home improvement projects can’t be put off for a day, huh?”
“I get the feeling you’re dancing around something here.”
To that, my father shook his head. “Can’t get used to you talking to me like a grown-ass man,” he admitted. “You were still ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ when you left. Alright, I’m a little worried you’re not enjoying this.”
“This?”
“The club. The atmosphere. The brotherhood. I can see your brother eating it up. And for a little bit, I thought you were settling in too. But there’s a party out back. And you’re here.”
“There was a party last night too,” I told him. “And the night before. And the night before that. This is the first one I’ve sat out.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding. “Everyone’s entitled to a little solitude. I remember how hard that was to come by when I lived here. I just would hate to see it become a pattern. Don’t make your old man start worrying about you more than usual.”
If only he knew what he really had to worry about. Like a woman with a gun pointed right at my chest.
The plan was to find her, handle it, and never have to speak a word of it to anyone, though. Least of all my father, who I knew would worry.
“Please tell me he’s at least had a few hours without a drink in his hand,” he said, his focus suddenly stolen from me to glance toward the side of the house where my younger brother Vas was chugging something out of a red party cup.
“Pretty sure he didn’t drink anything when he was sleeping.”
“Way to comfort your old man,” my father said with a smile that had the same dimples I did.
As we watched, Vas tossed the cup toward—I imagined—a trash can.
Then he ducked low, and picked up a woman in a red bikini over his shoulder, her long blonde hair streaming down his back.
Vas hooked an arm around her upper thighs and ass as he started walking toward the garage (and the door through it and into the clubhouse).
“Yo, kid, raincoat!” my father called, making Vas go pale for just a second before he disappeared.
“You enjoyed that too much.”
“Gotta get my kicks somewhere. Besides, I’m sure she’s sweet and all, but I don’t want her making me a grandpa. Yet.”
“Don’t worry. Everyone wraps it up. No one wants the parties to end.”
“Except…” he said, looking at my wood project.
“It’s one day.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ll see. You need to stop by and see your mother sometime. Let her fuss over you.”
“I can do that.”
“Alright. Get back to your woodworking. I’ll see you around.”
With that, he was gone, and I got back to my project.
It wasn’t until the sun was well down and I had everything cleaned up and was debating painting my room when, finally, my phone rang on the nightstand.
It looked like Junior had a lead on my mystery wannabe assassin.