Chapter 18
After reading the message, I pocket my phone and swing the axe one more time.
Technically, it’s my day off, but I’ll go to the clubhouse since it’s an emergency.
We’ve been waiting for months now for something to pop off, and it sounds like that time is now.
The Familia and the cartel have been racking up the body count and pinning it on each other, which has led to an all-out war.
It was only a matter of time until our allies reached out to us, needing something.
With my tech skills and rank in the club, I’ve had a front row seat to the black market information being sold on each side, as well as access to their underground dealings.
The cartel hasn’t figured it out yet, and I intend to keep it that way. Our lives and safety depend on it.
With enough wood chopped to last now that the evenings are getting cooler here in Tennessee, I head into my cabin to shower up and grab my cut.
A slight flare of annoyance grows in my chest. I had been looking forward to spending a quiet day at my home.
Grilling a steak, having a beer, and of course, my favorite pastime activity, scouring the internet for any traces of Winnie.
In the past five years, she became a ghost. I looked everywhere back home and in the surrounding areas.
I got burner accounts and tried to find her on social media, but I have hit dead ends at every turn.
I don’t blame her for leaving. I know I hurt her and caused damage to our relationship by not being honest and hiding my feelings.
And that kiss. That fucking kiss that I didn’t want and meant nothing to me.
I’m still pissed it happened, but even more mad at myself for going on that run in the first place.
Needless to say, Cleaver paid for his instigation at the Vikings MC.
Trigger apologized for not catching on to what was happening; he was let off by losing his patch for a year and demoted to prospect again.
Prez was on my side about how things went down, and our alliance with the Vikings has been rocky at best. But he reminded me that being put in that position was on me.
He was disappointed to learn from his wife that Winnie had told her I was forced to go on the runs and not that I had been volunteering.
He may be the president of a motorcycle club, but Daggerz is also a family man, and he loves his old lady fiercely.
Revenge tasted sweet, but it still didn’t fill the ache I now had from Win being gone.
She didn’t just leave with my heart in her pink-manicured hand, she obliterated my soul and everything that mattered.
You never know what you have until you lose it, and I sure as fuck know what I lost. My girl.
My other half. The woman I wanted as mine for life and I screwed it up after years of trying to prove to myself I wasn’t my father, through months of lying and hiding from her.
Taking one last look at the door to make sure I have everything locked up and secured, I head down the front porch to my bike, swing my leg over, and fire up the engine before driving the twenty minutes it takes me to get to the clubhouse.
Last night was the club’s usual Saturday party, and I can’t imagine most of the brothers are going to be excited for the emergency meeting.
I avoid all parties like the plague if I can.
Every once in a while, I make an appearance for special occasions, like Squirrel’s wedding last weekend, but the second a club whore gets too comfortable trying to touch me, I leave.
Parties and hanging out at the club aren’t what I am after with club life anymore.
I just want to do my job, keep my brothers and their families safe, and work on my cabin.
Everyone is already there when I pull in.
Our newest prospect, who we affectionately call Slap Nuts, lets me through the gate, and I park my bike next to the others.
There’s a slight dusting of snow on the ground, which will most likely disappear by tomorrow, but for now it looks nice.
I stomp my boots off by the door and catch Prez’s eye.
As soon as he sees me, he stands from his chair.
“CHURCH!”
All of the Enforcers, our VP, Road Captain, Secretary, Treasurer and Sergeant At Arms all move toward the room.
Our cell phones are collected outside the door and then locked in the safe by Prez’s old lady.
I notice that right before the door closes, Lyric, Karma’s old lady and honorary silent member, sneaks in and takes a seat.
My brow rises, and I look first to Bullet, who shrugs his shoulders.
Squirrel just shakes his head like he also doesn’t know what’s going on, and he’s one of Lyric’s best friends.
Karma doesn’t look the least bit phased or worried.
If he’s not freaking out about his girl being in here, then he must already know what's going on.
Prez bangs his gravel, his brow furrowed, as if thinking about something that displeases him.
I sit up straighter in my chair when he leans his big, beefy arms on the table, his hands folded in front of him.
It’s a move I’ve seen him do before when it involves something he isn’t happy about or concerned with. Usually, when something is dangerous.
“It’s not a secret that the Familia and the cartel have a war going on. What we didn’t realize is that the Familia is also having issues within its own ranks. A coup of sorts, and it’s landing at our doorstep.”
Everyone in the room shifts at the news. While we’ve kept out of the war, we have also become allies with a certain Mafia family. They keep their distance, provide us with information we need, and in return, we provide weapons and intel.
“Bianchi’s heir has reached out, requesting our help to protect an asset.”
Jester’s head swivels to look at Prez. “His heir contacted you? Not the man himself?”
Prez shakes his head slowly. “I followed up with Bianchi on this. He seems to know about his son’s business, and he isn’t in agreement. I was going to let this go, but, Doc, I'll let you take it from here.”
My head swivels to Lyric, who refuses to keep her eyes on anyone but our prez. My guess is she doesn’t want to let her emotions show, while also giving the man her utmost respect.
“There’s reason to believe that Marco Bianchi’s asset is a woman,” she announces. The room is quiet while we process. Confusion swirls in my mind. This isn’t a usual case for us.
“No offense, Doc,” Snake says, “I get it, we don’t want a woman hurt, but why is this a deal where we need to be involved?”
“Isn’t the heir married? I swear we were invited to the wedding like three summers ago,” Badger throws in.
The memory sounds familiar to me, too. None of us really wanted to ride to New York for the shindig, but we agreed to send a very expensive bottle of liquor to the man and his father, as well as take off a percentage of their next shipment order.
Lyric’s lips purse, and she looks ready to argue.
In the next second, we watch as she swallows it down, and her face goes back to its normal coloring.
“He does have a wife. As well as two small children. This is delicate, as there is speculation around this asset. I have sources claiming she’s his mistress willingly.
I also have a source saying she’s being held captive.
If she is his mistress, her life is in danger from both the Familia as well as from the Bianchis.
It won’t go over well with any of them that he’s requesting a mistress to have special protection.
If she’s a captive, then I think that's self-explanatory. Either way, her life is in danger. My sources both claim that she is his entire focus, he’s obsessed with her to the point of madness, whether she is a captive or his mistress. ”
Prez looks around the table at us, his eyes mirroring what we’re already thinking.
The minute there was speculation about this woman being a captive, we would have to figure it out.
If she is, we need to give her the opportunity to escape, which could potentially be disastrous for our alliance and us.
If she’s his mistress and with him willingly, then she should still be offered the chance to stay or escape.
If she stays, that's on them; should they continue their affair. We’ll still protect her as part of the alliance.
“Bianchi doesn’t approve, but with the current coup, he’s letting Marco call the shots. He seems to think that our protection of this woman will keep Marco’s head clear while they clean up and focus on the war,” Prez adds. “I’m not forcing anyone to do anything, but if anyone wants to volunteer…”
“Volunteer for what exactly? Just to hide her?” Bullet asks, and I second that question.
“We’ll recover her from Bianchi’s men. Then I think it's best if Doc talks to her and finds out more about her situation. Then from there we’ll decide if we’re just hiding her or helping her escape,” Prez answers him.
“Escape, as in that secret other silent member?” I ask, my brow raised. Karma turns to me and frowns. I know he doesn’t like thinking of his old lady and the mysterious connections she has.
Lyric, on the other hand, enjoys it. She turns her mischievous smile in my direction. “That would be correct, Dodger.”
“All in favor?” Prez asks, glancing around the room. There’s a beat of hesitancy before everyone gives their resounding “Aye.”
Prez nods and runs his hand through his hair, sighing. “And anyone interested in volunteering to collect the asset?”
Crickets would have been louder than the silence that follows his question. Jester glares at all of us one by one. “Speak up.”
“Lottie is close to her delivery date. I can’t leave,” Snake replies.
“Yeah, sorry.” Badger throws up his hands. “The boys have basketball camps this week, and Hope is trying to get the holiday decorations all put away. I said I’d help her.”
Viper groans and runs his hand over the back of his neck. “I have counseling with the witch this week about our new parenting schedule before court on Thursday.”
Karma raises his finger in a salute. "I'll go.”
Knowing the rest of the guys have obligations or families or are newly married, I raise my hand too. “I’ll assist.”
“Well, since you all are slim pickings for strapping, young, single men, I guess I’ll go too,” my cousin throws out. “We can take the prospects in the cage. That will give us more cover.”
Prez nods and glances at Inspector. “Can you get them some live feed and surveillance of the area?”
“No problem, Prez,” he fires back.
“All right.” Prez lifts his gavel. “Tomorrow. Church adjourned."
We all file out of the room and pick up our cell phones from the safe. I power mine on and put it in my pocket before getting ready to leave. Bullet nods toward the bar.
“One drink?”
I shake my head. “No can do, Cuz.”
“Why? Hot date with a grizzly bear?” He laughs at his own joke while I flip him my middle finger.
“Hey, be nice to Monk,” Trigger cackles and saddles up to the bar. Aria pours him a beer, but I catch her smiling at his joke as well.
“I thought we decided his new road name was going to be Father instead?” Pointz asks, before laughing to himself. He and Trigger bump fists over the joke like it's the most hilarious thing ever.
“Real funny,” I tell him and keep walking toward the door.
“Leave him alone,” Aria finally says. “Just because he isn’t a resident Playboy like all of ya’ll.”
“Not saying he has to claim the same manwhore status as Trigger.” Pointz lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Just saying the man could use a little TLC, and if he happened to do it with the help of some sweet pussy then he may be more relaxed.”
“And not so grumpy,” Trigger adds.
My face wipes clear of all emotion except for the heated glare I’m shooting all of them. My chest squeezes painfully, feeling her loss all over again. “Never gonna happen.”
I slip out the door before they can say any more.
In the past year, the ribbing has gotten worse.
I don’t party. And I have not moved on from the girl who holds my heart.
Countless times, I’ve been advised that I should just have a night with a club whore to move on, and I’ve never even entertained the idea.
Even if we aren’t together, the idea of anyone else touching me, kissing me, or having their body pressed to mine feels like cheating.
I’m not ready to let go of Winnie. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to say goodbye to what we had, especially knowing she’s still out there.
Bullet explained that they’re all just worried about me.
He, Karma, and Prez know the most about how much Winnie’s leaving tore me up.
They also know that I’m to blame because of my own stupidity.
I ran her off and I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life regretting that I hurt her.
If I’m ever lucky enough to see her again, I’ll fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness.
If I ever am lucky enough to have her again, there’s no way I’ll ever let her go.