Chapter 7
“He mowed my grass, Thomas.” He then took off before she could confront him. Owen scampered into the house, back to his video games. When she tried to question him, her son pretended not to know what she was talking about. Traitor.
Caitlyn waved the cash in front of Thomas.
“Keep your money, Cat.”
Caitlyn replayed what he said in her head, dissected each word, and searched for a hidden meaning. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, she said, “Since when do you mow lawns for free?”
“You should know better than to ask,” he said.
“I’m not one of your community service projects. You don’t need to send your guys out to care for my lawn.”
“I know that,” Yeats said.
A bittersweet sigh escaped Caitlyn’s lips as she lowered her arm. His gesture warmed a place deep in her chest, a flicker of hope battling with the fear of appearing too vulnerable. She forced a smile and held out the cash again. “Then take the cash.”
Thomas shook his head. “I’m not the one who mowed your lawn.”
“But he works for you. It was your truck pulling out of my driveway,” she said.
Thomas shrugged casually. “Technically, we’re partners.”
“And he works for you on the range.”
“Yep, and he wanted to do something nice for you. I didn’t know he did until he finished and returned the equipment to the store.”
Caitlyn nodded slowly, unsure how to respond to that information. Thomas continued before she could say anything else. “Keep your cash, Cat. Accept it for what it was: a friendly gesture.” He grinned. The smugness in his expression annoyed her.
Caitlyn looked away, tears prickling in her eyes.
She wasn’t one of his charity cases. She wasn’t.
Had he felt obligated as her friend? Or her co-worker?
In either case, she was thankful. One more thing off her ever-piling list. She asked Pops to handle it, but since he could no longer order one of the Ghost Riders to do his bidding, nothing got done unless Caitlyn did it herself.
Whatever Daniel said to her son motivated him to help mow the lawn.
It must have been a bribe to get Owen away from his video games.
Caitlyn felt guilty for suspecting they had orchestrated the whole thing together.
“What’s his story, anyway?” Caitlyn pressed.
“Please tell me he’s not one of your charity cases, and you put him on the range with me. ”
“Stop.” Thomas held up his hands in surrender, as if sensing her conflicting thoughts. “I know him. He’s one of the good guys.”
Caitlyn’s brow furrowed slightly, but a flicker of curiosity replaced her suspicion. “He’s one of your ranger buddies, isn’t he?”
Thomas shrugged casually. “Sometimes, a change of pace is good for everyone. You could say Daniels has… seen things from another perspective.” He paused, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.
She stared at Thomas, her mind spinning with questions.
Since when was Thomas Yeats vague with her?
Was it just a coincidence that Daniel showed up on her property out of the blue, or was there more to the story?
She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes to get some answers. “Did my brother put you up to this?”
Thomas shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Seriously?” Caitlyn crumpled the money in her hand and let out a frustrated sigh.
“Antonio swore us off, but I wouldn’t put it past my brother to have arranged with you for someone to keep an eye on me.
You understand how the Ghost Riders work.
I know he sends guys to take the course and spy on me.
Was it my brother’s idea or yours to replace Davis? I know it wasn’t my father’s.”
Thomas raised his hands defensively as if trying to allay Caitlyn’s fears about what he had done behind the scenes. “No one put me up to anything,” he said earnestly. “I wouldn’t do anything like that without your consent.”
Caitlyn studied Thomas, searching for any hint that he was being less than honest. But all she found was sincerity in his expression and a willingness to tell her the truth.
She had been right not to allow her fear to take over.
Whatever Daniel’s motivations were, they had nothing to do with Thomas.
Relieved, Caitlyn relaxed and nodded understandingly at Thomas’ words. “I appreciate you telling me the truth.”
“It’s okay to let people help you. Sometimes helping others is a blessing to the one giving the help,” Thomas said as he stood up from his chair. “And you can be the one to tell him not to mow your grass anymore. I’m sure it won’t go over well with your son.”
Caitlyn laughed at Thomas’ suggestion before catching herself and nodding in agreement. “You’re right,” she said, suddenly grateful that Daniel showed up for them in such an unexpected way. “No more mowing my lawn for free.”
Thomas smiled at her response before getting to his feet and exiting.
He paused before leaving, however, turning back to Caitlyn with a thoughtful expression.
“I know it seems like you don’t need protection,” he began slowly, “but I think it would be wise to keep Daniel close by…for both your sakes.”
Caitlyn’s mind raced as she mulled over Thomas’ words. Had he meant her and Owen? Or by helping her, did it help Daniel? Daniel Jones didn’t come across as a man who would demand a favor for a favor. Not like Silas, her ex.
With the Ghosts monitoring her, the news would travel back to Antonio and maybe even Silas.
Her brother walked away from their family and held their father accountable for more.
All the while, her father allowed Silas to corrupt the dealings of the club.
It tainted their meetings and the minds of their members.
Yet, Antonio looked out for her and Owen.
At Christmas, Owen received a new Xbox with games delivered to their front porch.
She suspected Yeats had reported to Antonio, which made her assume Yeats had sent Daniel to mow her grass. Why else would a man like Daniel show up and clean up her yard?
She glanced at Thomas and saw him observing her. His eyes filled with understanding and compassion. In all the years she had known Yeats, the way he seemed to read people still spooked her.
“I’m not a charity case.”
“No,” Thomas agreed.
Chris sat outside Beast’s last known address for hours, and there was still no sign of the mysterious cop.
He watched the passersby warily, sweeping the street for any sign of Beast. Eventually, the man responsible for his brother’s and his girlfriend’s death would come home.
He figured Beast would show, thanks to a tip from one of the Thunder Valley Rider’s old ladies.
What kind of man skipped out on their brother’s wedding?
Unlike the Sharks, these people did not ascribe any meaning to blood.
Blood was thicker than water. Blood tied you to family debts and inheritance.
He should have stepped into Pike’s role as president.
Too bad Beast was responsible for Audra’s death.
He might have made him VP. They’d been friends.
Chums. Chris got his road name, Chum, from Pike, and the hurt and the pain sunk in deeper than a hook.
Friendship. No. Foolishness. Not anymore.
After he proved he could tie up loose ends, no one would push him aside or underestimate him anymore.
His gaze darted across the street, searching for signs of activity.
The leather of his Thunder Valley Christian Motorcycle Club jacket weighed heavy on his shoulders, with its large back patch a beacon in the twilight.
He wasn’t a stranger in this part of town.
One wrong move, one person recognizing him, and all his carefully laid out plans could come crashing down.
He still couldn’t believe his luck. The Thunder Valley MC welcomed him into the club without first making him a prospect, and he was still trying to gain some stance amongst them.
The members of this motorcycle club took their church literally.
He never met men who prayed or women who spoke their opinions.
The wives sat alongside their husbands. No one treated their old ladies like property.
But they couldn’t fool him with their talks of brotherly love and helping others, and he almost choked at the thought of every time they prayed over a decision.
What would Pike or their father think? The members of the Thunder Valley Riders talked about family.
After what Beast had done to his family, Chris would make them pay, starting with Sebastian Daniels.
But first, he had to find him—which proved more difficult than he had hoped.
Sebastian might have changed his road name so “Beast” could vanish without a trace.
Despite Sebastian’s efforts, Chris would track him down.
Hanging out with Beast’s biker brothers and joining the club helped Chris get close to the ones Beast loved.
Eventually, one of them would tell him where Beast went.
They slipped and gave him the information about the upcoming wedding.
Someone knew where to find him. But Chris was still trying to process their hospitality.
He vowed never to forget why he was there.
Audra. Her death sent him into a deep freeze, but now, in the thaw of her passing, he needed justice.
If Beast hadn’t killed his brother, Audra wouldn’t be dead, and Chum’s nephew would be his son, not Pike’s. He couldn’t let Beast get away with his crimes. Even cops needed to know they were not above the law. And Chris was the new enforcer. He settled into his seat.
It was a warm night, and Chris felt sweat bead on his forehead as he waited. His heart was pounding, and he was on edge.
Suddenly, a figure came around the corner. He tensed, and his heart raced as a vehicle came down the street. He watched as it parked outside the house. A man and a woman got out and disappeared inside.
He pounded his fist on the steering wheel and shouted an expletive.
He stared at the house. Already, he spent too much time with the goodie-goodie club.
The longer it took to find a missing person, the slimmer the chances of success.
He might have failed to live up to his brother’s expectations or help Audra escape Pike alive, but this time, he wouldn’t fail.
Couldn’t fail. He made a deal with another MC moving into the Shark’s old territory, and if he didn’t keep his end of the bargain, not getting patched was the least of his worries.
Chris stepped out of the car, phone in hand.
He checked his watch for the time. Lights came on inside the house.
He didn’t care that it was after ten o’clock.
He marched up to the door and rang the bell.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he listened for footsteps.
About to knock a second time, the door opened. A man close to his age glared at Chris.
“Hey, man, I’m sorry to disturb you so late. I’m looking for Beast.”
The man shook his head, like he was trying to comprehend Chris’ words.
He frowned and blinked a moment before responding.
“Listen, whatever you’re on, take it somewhere else.
There are no beasts here.” He moved to close the door.
Chris persisted. “I must have the wrong address.” He rattled off the address, knowing all too well this was the right one.
“Right address, wrong place. Now, I would appreciate it if you leave, or I’ll call the police.”
“Funny thing,” Chris tried to smile. “My buddy Beast, who lives here, is a cop. He said if I ever needed anything, to come find him. Do you know where he is?”
The man wiped a hand down his face. “I don’t know anyone by that name. We bought the place several months ago. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late, and I need to set the security alarm. You have a minute to get off my porch.”
“Yeah, sure.” Chris backed away. He glanced down at his concert t-shirt, the chain from his belt to his pocket with his wallet, and his worn boots. The vest with the patch might have misled the guy. He thought anyone seeing a cross on the club patch wouldn’t see him as a threat.
The man yawned, and Chris stepped off the porch.
He hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but a man needed to use all his resources, and he had plenty.
Chris started dialing his phone as he returned to his car.
Bringing his motorcycle to stake the place out wouldn’t have been comfortable and too suspicious.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“It’s Chum,” Chris said. “Remember me?”
“Yeah. What do you want?”
“Information.”