7. Smitty
SMITTY
“Who was that?”
“Brooke.”
I glanced over to find Skid standing beside me, watching as Brooke disappeared into the crowd with the tall, lanky asshole and the little girl. His brows furrowed. “You two have history or something?”
“You could say that.” I huffed out a humorless laugh. “We were together a few years back. I wasn’t sure what happened until now.”
“Damn.”
I stood there frozen, staring at the damn carousel, hoping I might get one more glimpse of her.
I’d felt the same way that night we met at the shelter.
I’d scared off the two creeps who were fucking with her, and it was just us, standing there alone in the dark alley with snow falling down around us.
She seemed to be close to my age with dark hair and eyes that made her fair skin stand out even more. She was almost angelic, especially with the snow coming down, and when she smiled at me, it nearly knocked me off my feet. The same held true tonight.
She was older now, her hair was longer, but she still looked exactly the same.
Hell, she even dressed the same. Simple and modest in her khaki shorts and white top that covered more than it showed.
She wore a little jewelry, a gold necklace and a matching bracelet, but nothing flashy. Nothing that drew attention.
Brooke never needed that.
People noticed her anyway.
She was too beautiful not to. But it wasn’t her looks or what she wore that caught my attention tonight. Instead, it was the little girl she had propped on her hip. The one with bright blue eyes that looked an awful lot like mine.
We’d all started walking toward the parking lot when I turned to Laken and asked, “Hey… How old do you think the little girl was?”
“I don’t know.” Laken frowned. “It’s hard to say. I wouldn’t think she was two yet, so maybe eighteen months. Give or take.”
I was working hard to piece things together when I finally asked, “And pregnancy’s what? Nine months?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Damn. Eighteen months.
Eighteen months plus nine months of her pregnancy.
That would put her conception right around twenty-seven months ago. We were still together two years ago, which could only mean one thing. My blood ran cold. Skid must’ve noticed, because he nudged me and asked, “Whoa, what are you getting at, brother?”
“Just trying to figure things out.”
“What?” Skid scoffed. “You thinking the kid might be yours or something?”
I didn’t answer.
I didn’t have to.
My expression told him all he needed to know. The smile slowly faded from his face as he muttered, “Oh, fuck.”
Truth was, I didn’t know if the kid was mine, but there was a strong possibility. Laken gave me a puzzled look. “When did you last see her?”
“If you’re asking when we last hooked up, it was about two and a half years ago. Maybe less.”
“And you’ve never seen the kid before today?”
“Nope. Never even knew she had a kid.”
The look she gave Skid was anything but subtle.
She was thinking exactly what I was thinking.
And judging by their expressions, Grim and Jenna had come to the same conclusion.
They’d both been silently listening, but when we finally reached the parking lot, Grim couldn’t hold back any longer. “You want me to call Shep?”
“What for?”
“To find out.” Grim cocked a brow. “It wouldn’t take him long.”
“He’s right,” Skid agreed. “He can have you an answer before we get back home.”
I glanced back toward the carousel, where Brooke had disappeared and my questions began. I had no doubt that Shep could find out everything there was to know about Brooke and the little girl, but if that little girl was mine, I wanted to hear it from Brooke. “No.”
They all looked surprised by my response.
They didn’t get it. I didn’t want Shep digging through Brooke’s life like she was some stranger. She wasn’t. She was Brooke, the woman I’d once loved. I’d spent two years trying to forget her but never did. Now, I knew why.
“If that little girl belongs to me, I don’t want to find out from some file Shep finds on his computer… I want to hear it from her.”
The words had barely left my mouth when Grim’s burner started to ring. He pulled it from his pocket, and his expression turned fierce when he glanced down at the screen. Noting the drastic change in his demeanor, Skid immediately asked, “What is it?”
“It’s Creed.” Grim’s jaw tightened. “He wants us at the clubhouse, ASAP.”
That was all it took.
Skid pulled his keys from his pocket and handed them to Laken. “You girls take my truck and take Jenna and Luna home. I’ll meet you at the house when I can.”
Grim gave Jenna a kiss on the cheek, promising to be home as soon as he could, and then, he charged toward his truck.
He and Skid climbed inside, while I got on my bike.
It was strange how quickly the mood had changed.
One second, we were at the fair talking about Brooke and a little girl who might be mine.
And the next, we were springing into action.
The ride to the clubhouse felt off. Maybe it was because my head was already a mess from seeing Brooke, or maybe it was the look on Grim’s face when he read that message. Either way, the closer we got, the more anxious I became.
When we pulled through the gate, I knew something was bad wrong. Every bike was there, which meant every brother had been called in. That only happened when trouble was on the horizon, or it had already come knocking. Shit. This was the last thing I needed right now.
I killed the engine and eased off my bike. I pulled off my helmet and followed Grim and Skid inside. Nobody said a word as we headed into the bar. Everyone was gathered around, and I could almost feel the tension crackling around us.
Preacher stood near the end of the bar, and the second he saw us, he stepped to the center of the room. Everyone went silent as we waited to hear whatever news he was about to drop on us. Every eye was locked on him as he announced, “Gus was attacked tonight.”
A string of low curses echoed through the bar.
Gus was the president of the Memphis chapter.
I’d only been around him a handful of times, but I’d heard the stories.
He was one of the originals and was sent to Memphis to start a new chapter.
He did, and he did it well. Their chapter had grown into one of the fiercest groups of men in the South, and everyone knew it was entirely due to Gus and the way he led his men.
He was a good man who was respected and slightly feared by all, including me. Goose was the first to step up and ask, “What the hell happened?”
“He and his ol’ lady had gone out to eat somewhere in the city, and they’d barely made it to the parking lot before three assholes jumped him. They did a real number on him.”
The room went silent, but only long enough for Grim to collect himself and ask, “Any idea who it was?”
“Not yet. They’re looking into it.”
“What about his ol’ lady?”
“Didn’t lay a hand on her.”
“Well, at least, there’s that.”
The silence that followed felt different, heavier and full of contempt. We knew this wasn’t some random robbery. It wasn’t some drunk assholes looking for trouble. This was targeted.
“How is he?” Memphis asked with concern.
“Broke his jaw and a couple of ribs.” Prez winced when he added, “Looks like they were wearing brass knuckles.”
“Motherfucker,” Grim grumbled.
“Pretty sure he’s got a concussion, but won’t know for sure until they get the results back from the CT.”
“They wanted him hurt… not dead.” Grim glared at Prez. “Smells dirty to me.”
Nobody disagreed. We were all thinking the same.
Walker comes to us with a threat. We deal with it, and all goes quiet. Weeks later, there’s a fire. Then, a wreck. And now, a hands-on attack. All three with the presidents of Fury. The pieces were starting to fit together, and none of us liked what we saw.
Skid turned to his father as he said, “What about the others? Were they really just accidents, or was it something more?”
“That’s the question of the hour.”
“It has to be something more. No way this is all just a fucking coincidence.”
Memphis shook his head. “But we were told the fire at the barn was because of the straw overheating.”
“You sure it wasn’t tampered with?”
“Fire marshal seemed pretty damn sure.”
Prez let out a sigh, letting us know he had his doubts, and the room went quiet again.
Every brother felt it. They could feel it down to their bones.
There was a good chance that somebody was making a move against Fury.
It was impossible not to think that it might be the Coyotes, especially after the way we took out the entire Little Rock chapter and all their scouts.
“Doesn’t matter what the marshal thought,” Creed replied. “The timing’s too damn convenient.”
“He’s right.” Grim was done holding back. “We got you almost burned up in a barn fire, Maverick and his faulty wiring, and now, this with Gus. That’s a red fucking flag if I ever saw one.”
There was no denying it. Things were piling up, and they were becoming harder to blow off as a mere coincidence. Ghost looked to Grim as he asked, “Any way the Coyotes could be behind this?”
“It’s possible.”
“They might think that they could distract us by going after the presidents.” Preacher suggested. “But not sure they’ve got the means to pull off this kind of hit. Regardless, someone is making moves, and we need to be ready for whatever comes next.”
Prez’s response settled over the room like a dark cloud. If someone wanted Fury weakened, taking out our leadership was a damn good place to start. Grim turned to Prez as he said, “I’m gonna need you to stay here until this thing plays out.”
“Tabitha’s gonna love that,” he scoffed.
“She’ll need to be here, too.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Grim nodded. “Jenna and I will stay here, too.”
“I’ll be here, too,” Memphis interjected.
Several others made offers, so I did the same. Once the room grew quiet again, Creed announced, “We’ll increase security, here and at the club.”