Chapter 12 Wes #2
They treated me like I was just her boyfriend, not a prospect or a hang-around.
I was in a category reserved for family, but with that came the cold shoulder more often than I liked.
I caught sight of the group attending their weekly church meetings—which was an odd term, at least in my world—but in theirs it was basically where they gathered to talk about club business.
No women, no prospects, no outsiders were ever invited in.
I never missed how Killian would throw a look over his shoulder when he’d head inside, and I’d be at the bar eating breakfast with Callie while she talked to Red.
He'd stare at me like I was supposed to be in there with them, like he was just waiting for me to make the decision to join. It was on my mind more than it should have been, honestly. I knew Callie wanted to leave Rose Ridge. She’d started making lists of the places we could live once we’d saved up enough.
Texas was on her list, so was Kentucky, and then randomly Wyoming.
No idea why. I just let her dream, holding tight to the fact that she was the dream I was following.
I took a generous sip of my coffee before responding, already feeling my gut twist with anxiety. “Maybe, let me check with work.”
She waved me off. “Okay, but fair warning, I am probably going to head to that farm store that’s on the way, regardless if we go or not.”
Shit, I didn’t like that.
“Just wait for me, okay?”
She stood, one hand on the wall as she slid her foot into her shoe. Her eyes focused on my face, and I prayed she’d understand how serious I was. Giving me a sweet smile, she nodded.
“Okay, I’ll wait.”
Once her shoes were on, she stepped forward and kissed me.
Something in my chest churned, but I pushed it down.
Dating the daughter of Simon Stone was never going to feel normal, and I likely would never stop worrying about her.
When I married her, and we had kids, that worry would double or triple.
But as I watched her walk out the door, I knew deep in my bones, to my very marrow, that I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I’d wage war for that girl. I’d go to hell and pick a fight with the devil if I had to.
In every scenario, she was on my mind. How to keep her, how to love her, how to make her mine.
Nothing would ever change that.
The day passed with nothing but fuckup and after fuckup.
My boss had called in sick, so I was in charge.
We had a few oil changes on the schedule, but then there was an accident down on Fir Street, and all three vehicles were towed to our shop.
Because we were down a member, and the other two employees were still new, it fell to me to assess the cars so the insurance companies would have their quotes.
It was frustrating, and the heat didn’t help.
I was sweaty and annoyed by the end of the day, and all I wanted was to see my girlfriend and take her to that favorite food truck of hers that sold the mango-flavored street tacos.
I was supposed to head right over to Callie’s work to meet up with her, but I texted her to meet me at home instead.
By the time I was finally off work, I noticed she’d replied to my text
over an hour ago.
Callie: don’t be mad, but I got off early and wanted to surprise you with something. I’m already here, browsing the farm store. Love you, hurry up so we can eat.
Fuck.
I had yet to even get a free moment to talk to her dad. I was hoping by the time I got home, she’d shower, and I’d slip outside to call him and run this by him or Killian, just to be sure. But perhaps, if things were bad, they had a tail on her.
I pressed her contact, hearing the phone ring while I started the truck. It went to voicemail after a few rings. I tried her again, this time it went to voicemail on the third ring, which was suspicious or maybe it was an accident.
Still, I called again.
This time she picked up.
“Hello?” a female voice answered, but it wasn’t Callie.
“Hi…ugh, sorry, I’m trying to call Callie Stone?”
My foot was on the gas, pushing my truck faster toward home.
The female made some sort of sound, there was noise in the background then she came back on. “Sorry, I found this phone in the parking lot. I was trying to see who it might belong to here at the food trucks, but no one recognizes it. I can keep it here for you, if you know her.”
The rock that had been churning in my gut all day sank as fear gripped my chest.
I hung up and dialed Simon, almost on autopilot. My truck was flying down the road at a breakneck speed. I saw a few club members passing me, heading the wrong direction. I didn’t care. I had to keep going.
Simon didn’t answer.
“Fuck!” I threw my phone right as I rounded the dirt road leading to the club. I’d never sped down the road before because of the dirt it’d kick up. It was disrespectful, but right then, I didn’t care. I needed to find Callie.
I slid to a stop, hearing gravel spray as I pushed the gear up and parked.
“Simon!” I ran for the clubhouse right as Hamish was walking out. His eyes grew large and shocked as I ran past him.
“Where is Simon?” I shoved inside the door, seeing dazed club members and Red behind the counter, her eyes narrowed in concern.
“Where’s Killian? Fuck, I need someone. Callie is missing.”
That got everyone moving.
Red came from around the counter, right as the church doors flung open and Simon, Killian, Brooks, and Raif all walked out. Their vests were on, their boots thudding against the floor as their eyes hardened on me.
“What the fuck happened?” Simon’s voice carried a sliver of worry, but he masked it well.
Shaking my head, I tried to breathe and force my voice not to waver.
“I don’t know. She texted me over an hour ago that she was going to the food trucks early. I asked her to wait for me, but she said she’d meet me there.”
Killian came up next to me and gently took my cell so he could read the text.
“I called and some girl answered it, said the phone was on the ground. Said she was asking around for who it belonged to, but no one was claiming it.”
My body was tense, my knees and legs shaky, but my adrenaline was pumping. I wanted to go get in the truck and just start driving, but I knew Simon would have a better plan.
Simon stared at Killian for a moment before Killian said, “You think this is the demonstration they were talking about?”
Simon’s jaw clenched before he glanced at me and shook his head. “Not here.”
“Something happened. I know something is going on, tell me so I can help!” I shouted, trying to get Simon’s attention but he was already delving out orders.
“Brooks and Raif, you two go to Pyle, scout and see if you can find tracks. Get eyes out there.”
There were people moving around, guns were grabbed, and Killian walked toward the back wall, grabbing a bulletproof vest and pulling it over his head. My heart was thundering in my chest.
Simon walked past me, and I felt fucking invisible. I always hated this feeling, but now that Callie was at the center, I couldn’t take it.
“Please, Simon,” I begged, gritting my teeth as I walked up to his side.
He turned, setting those hazel eyes on me, and his head dipped. It was enough of an answer.
He wasn’t going to tell me shit.
“You know I would bring you in, Wes. I can’t, son. She’d kill me.”
I needed to hit something. “She might not even fucking be alive, and you’re worried about her being mad at you?”
This was fucking bullshit.
Killian walked over, keeping his gaze anywhere but on us.
Fucker.
I loved the dude, but in that moment, I was so jealous of his place in this life. Why should he get to be privy to what’s happening with my girlfriend?
Why should any of these fuckers?
“She’s mine, Simon. Make an exception.” My voice was harsh, with a biting tone.
Harsh enough that it warranted attention from people around us. No one spoke to the president like that.
My girlfriend’s dad just stared at me with pity.
“I would, Wes. You know I would.”
Panic surged as they started moving past me.
“I will not be put on the fringes of this,” I warned, but the threat held no heat.
What the hell would I do to a club of bikers, following orders?
All I knew was someone had to start talking to me and soon.
Tears were burning my eyes and I just wanted to scream until somebody could actually hear what I was trying to say.
Nothing mattered. Nothing but her.
“Just give us a few hours, let us figure out what happened. Killian will keep you updated as much as possible.” Simon gripped my shoulder as I hurried with them to the porch.
Killian gave me a sympathetic look then followed suit.
Hamish, Brooks, Raif, they all followed their leader, leaving me back with the women.
Red stood with her arms crossed, her face stern, and then she ducked back into the storage room.
I stood there clenching my fists so tight I was worried I’d break a knuckle or pop a vessel.
I needed to go with them, but I knew if I tried to follow, Simon would have someone knock me out or some shit.
Their engines blared as the group of them took off from the property.
Moments later, Red returned, holding a black leather vest over her arm.
“Simon had this made a year ago. He’d kill me if he knew I showed it to you, but I know what you’re feeling.
I felt it ten years ago when Brooks went missing for three days.
I wanted to scream, to tear the very skin from my bones, when no one could tell me anything.
It was a really dark time for me, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
I know what you need, honey”—she placed the vest in my hands—“question is, do you?”
Peering down at the leather, I skimmed my thumb over the patches sewn into the cut. My name was on the right side of the vest, the Stone Riders patch was under it, along with the acronym, SRMC, then Virginia. My throat was tight as I realized what this was.
My head snapped up. “It doesn’t say prospect.”
Red smiled with tears in her eyes. “Honey, you must have wildly misunderstood where you stand with that man. He loves you like his own flesh and blood. You’d never be anything but royalty in this club.
Besides, you forget how many chores you did with Killian around here when we didn’t have any prospects.
Remember when Lucky started and you felt bad for him, so you joined in and helped him out? ”
Back then I just wanted to be a part of what they were doing. Anything that allowed me to stay, I’d do.
Holding the vest up, I noticed on the back of the vest there was a tiny fox patch, which was the nickname the club had given to Callie.
Suddenly all I could think of was getting her a vest that said Property of Wes.
The idea sent a rush of heat to my cock, which was the wrong fucking timing, but still the image played out.
Then several more of Callie wearing that cut and nothing else, while she straddled me.
Another with her wearing it while at a picnic with the club, holding a baby on her hip while tossing me a smile over her shoulder. That was the future I wanted. Suddenly I wanted it so bad that I could taste it. I wanted this club, and I wanted her by my side.
I wanted a future.
One where I could show her that the roots she hated so much were strong and beautiful. Where I could help her heal enough to love this life, to live it with me.
“You put that on, honey, and it’ll mean something. It’s not something you can easily take off. You become a Stone Rider, you stay one for life.”
Anticipation fluttered under my veins, paired with fear over where Callie was.
I knew I was choosing something right then, but in my heart, it was Callie.
I’d choose her over and over again, and in that moment, it was with her in my heart that I slid the vest on.
Red made some sound, then squeezed my hand before walking back to the kitchen.
Storming outside, I walked over to the garage, where we’d been restoring an old bike for me, one I had practiced riding with Killian when Callie wasn’t around.
I pulled the tarp off the top and dug out the storage box I kept on the shelf.
It held the key to my bike, some cash, and the gun Simon had given me last year.
Tucking the gun into my jeans, I straddled the bike and slid the key into the ignition.
Once it rumbled to life, I grabbed a bucket helmet and snapped it into place.
The club had already started riding, but I was just a few miles behind.
I sent up a silent prayer that Callie would be found safe, then I twisted my fist and shifted into first, taking off to join my club.