Chapter 12
Twelve
Motherfucker. He waited for us. There’s no other way.
Hopefully Brooks heard what’s going on and he will be on his way.
If that asshole who invaded here puts a mark on her, I won’t take responsibility for my actions.
I would’ve dealt with that fucker ages ago if Layne wasn’t hiding behind me like a scared little bird right now.
“Layne, honey, hold on.” Anger and the urge to protect her tears through me. My muscles tremble and heat courses through my body. I work my jaw and fire another shot in the bastard’s direction.
The sound of motorcycles approaching causes my heartbeat to calm somewhat. Until a bullet whizzes past my ear. I reach for my head and blood trickles down my fingers as Layne screams behind me once more.
That bastard’s hit my fucking ear. A whooshing sound rushes through my head and all my mind comes up with is that he needs to go six feet under.
I step into the hallway, the piece of shit standing at the entryway and I point my gun at his shoulder.
I pull the trigger. The recoil feels wonderful.
Just as my bullet pops through his left shoulder, Brooks shoots from the front door through his right.
My best friend aims his weapon at the back of the soldier’s head, ready to pull the trigger.
“Brooks, wait. He’s coming with us!” I blurt, going against my gut.
Right before I complete my sentence, Brooks clocks him with his gun. He goes down like jello, and I breathe out deeply.
It’s over, she’s safe.
Brooks comes forward. “Outside’s clear. Pax is in the ba—”
Right then Pax enters and looks at the man on the floor next to me. “Rest’s clear. No other people. Someone slashed your tires. I fucking told you not to go by yourself.” Pax crosses his arms as he stands next to Brooks. His eyes tell me he wants to burn me alive.
Colt’s right behind him. “Isn’t stubbornness a Young thing?”
Pax gives him a deadly glare.
I ignore them all, lean toward the stairs, my eyes on her hunched up form. “Lay, it’s over.” Gently I touch her shoulder, which makes her cower even more. I narrow my eyes, look to the hall.
Brooks drags a red mailbox outside, with which the fucker forced the door open. “Call the clean-up crew. Lucky no one’s home,” he says to me. Pax and Colt lift the blond hulk and drag him with them.
Silence descends over the house.
I crouch down on the second stair, keeping myself balanced by holding the banister. “Honey.” My voice cracks. “Layne, open your eyes.”
She shakes her head. “Is he dead? Did you murder him? Did Brooks…”
“He’s not dead. He will be, but he isn’t. Look at me, honey.”
Slowly those beautiful tear-filled brown eyes open. “If you murder him, you’re exactly like—”
“Layne,” I interrupt her. “If we don’t, you and Rebel will never be safe. You think that’s the right solution?” I cock my head. My heart clenches as I meet her gaze.
“No, but…” A tear falls.
“There’s always a reason. You know me. You know I don’t murder people for the fun of it. Never did, and never will.” I cradle her face.
She closes her eyes, allowing another few tears to fall, and then she nods. I pull her against my shoulder and press a kiss on her forehead.
“Just dangerous people, honey.” Even though I wished I had a normal day-to-day job. She deserves so much better than this. Better than people shooting at her.
What the fuck did Connor do? What did he know that makes them hunt Layne down?
Twenty minutes later, I leave Layne in my apartment.
With a smoke between my lips and my laces untied, I stomp across the grounds toward hangar four.
The blood on my ear has dried by now. The guy is lucky it was just a graze, and he didn’t hit anything or anyone else.
My blood boils as I think back to the whole incident.
With a bang, I throw open the metal door and step inside.
The bastard is strapped to a wooden chair. His eyes are wild and he’s biting on a piece of cloth Brooks has tied around his head so he can’t talk.
In the hangar’s corner stands an old wooden workbench, where Brooks is sharpening his knives.
His tools are all in order. Despite its nature, this space is spotless and organized.
The sound the iron blades make on the block causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up straight, but I don’t show a reaction.
Instead, I rest my gaze on the man and take a couple of steps to stand in front of him.
I take a drag from my cigarette, blow the smoke in his face and then put it back between my lips.
It’s a gesture of intimidation, and when I see his eyes widen even more, I know it’s working.
I yank off the cloth. A slight twitch goes through my body from the adrenaline.
Dirty bastard.
Faster than he can see me coming, I ram my fist against his jaw. Ah, that feels fucking good.
With a groan, his head turns and splatters of blood clatter to the floor.
“That one’s for shooting at Layne.” I take another swing, ram my fist against his jaw again. A satisfying crack resounds, and he spits blood on the floor as I say, “That one’s for hitting my ear.”
With a final drag, I turn around. I throw the butt to the ground, stomp it out, pick it up, and throw it in the garbage can. If I disturb the order here, Brooks goes nuts. The intent to kill is already clear in his eyes and I don’t want to get on that side of him. That’s for that lowlife.
I move the desk chair, which is standing by itself in a corner, about two feet in front of him, and sit on it. Resting my elbows on the backrest, I look at him. “All I want to know is your name. The rest I’ll leave to my good friend here.” I nod at Brooks.
The blond man’s eyes get big. “What the fuck?” He aimlessly jerks at the ropes.
“No, that’s not your name.” I shake my head and cast a theatrical glance at my watch. “You have one minute.” I keep looking at my silver Breitling. “Thirty seconds.”
Instead of answering me, he yanks at the ropes harder and harder.
“Ten seconds,” I say and nod to Brooks. The latter takes two steps closer, a Bowie knife in hand.
“Perez,” the man blurts at the last moment. “Joey Perez.”
Brooks rolls his eyes, lowers the knife, and turns to me. Holding up my hand, I say, “Perez.” I wait a moment for dramatic effect. “I still have some questions, though. Who sent you and who do you work for?”
Of course, he remains silent.
I nod at Brooks, and a wide grin appears on his face. Without warning, he plants his knife in Perez’s thigh.
“Fuck.” Joey closes his eyes briefly, then lowers his head. “Vanderberg, all right. He wants the wife. I don’t know why. Something to do with the accountant. That’s all I know, I swear.”
Brooks cranes his neck.
“Come on, I really don’t know shit.” With eyes wide, Perez looks up at Brooks. Drops of sweat fall down his forehead.
I turn my attention to Brooks and hold my thumb and index finger about two inches apart. “Just a bit. He may still report what happened.” With those words, I get up from the chair and walk toward the door.
“Come on, man. Don’t leave me here alone with him.”
Instantly, I turn and lean on the arms of his chair. “If you’d left Layne alone, you wouldn’t be sitting here. Risk of the trade, right?” I shrug and leave the hangar.
Once outside, I rub my face. Shit, shit, shit. This is all so fucked up. I need more info and fast. This can’t go on like this. I round the corner and run into my little brother.
Rolling my eyes, I look up at him. “Not now, dammit.”
“You fucked up.”
I turn and throw my fist against his jaw. “I said, not now. What the hell isn’t clear about that?”
My little brother grabs my shirt. “I’ll let that one slide, but if you fucking hit me one more time—”
“Then what?” I raise my chin. “You think I need you to rub it in my fucking face? Like you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing, Pax. You’re the one who always figures things out by himself first, so don’t bother trying to lecture me. She could’ve died.” My nose almost touches his.
Pax pushes me away. “You could’ve let me know you were going, would’ve been the least you could do. You called Brooks.”
“He’s my best friend,” I growl.
“I’m your brother, fuckface.” He turns and wants to walk away, but before he can, I grab his shoulder.
I look straight at him and say, “My little brother. I know you’re in the MC and that you’ve probably done more shit than I. But you’ll always be my little brother and I’ll protect you. When I’m in trouble, I call my best friend.”
Pax jerks away, and his blue eyes shoot fire. “Protect me,” he sneers. “What the fuck do you need to protect? The last time I looked in the mirror…” He doesn’t finish his sentence and walks away from me before I can say anything.
I know exactly what he was going to say, though.
My little brother is a bigger dick than I’ve ever been.
Despite everything I’ve done to Layne, Dad has more faith in me than he does in Pax.
Simply because he can be a total nutcase sometimes.
He reacts with his heart, not his head. The bastard needs protection for all the reckless shit he does based on feelings.
He needs protection to keep that beautiful heart safe.
He needs protection from himself. With a deep sigh, I look up at the apartment before taking the first step in her direction and letting my little brother go.
I stand in front of the apartment door, but it’s blocked by something heavy. “Layne, it’s me. Open up.”
There is a soft tap on the wood. “Ky?” Her voice is thick and muffled by the door.
“Yup, you want to open the door?”
Something slides behind the door, then two seconds later she opens it.
Layne looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Hey, girl.” I pull her against me.
Then I take her inside and close the door behind us.
I turn both multi-point locks and set the alarm.
“There’s no one coming in here tonight.” The beep sounds to indicate the alarm is set.
“Are you sure?” She glances at Rebel, who’s asleep on the couch.
“A hundred percent.” I put my hand on her cheek and force her to look at me. “Nothing’s going to happen. Are you coming to the bedroom with me?”
Her doubt shows on her face, but eventually she reluctantly says “yes” and walks with me.
“I need to take a shower.” To wash Perez’s filthy mess off me, but I don’t tell her that. With wide eyes, she nods at me, but she remains motionless. I unclasp my watch and put it on my nightstand. Then I take off everything except my boxer briefs. “Be right back.”
I bolt into the bathroom and take the fastest shower of my life.
Soon I’m back in the bedroom in clean boxers.
Meanwhile, Layne has put on a pair of pajama pants and a top, and she’s about to crawl under my comforter.
It’s been uncomfortable, and at the same time as it should’ve been.
I lay on my side, under the blanket, watching her gaze at the ceiling.
“We could’ve died,” she blurts.
I hum a little, not even wanting to think about what could’ve happened to her. I avert my gaze from her before she notices what’s on my mind.
“Is he dead?”
This time, I shake my head. I hold my breath because I know it’s not what she expected.
“What, you said…” Her eyes turn to saucers as she turns to face me.
I run my hands through my hair. “I want this Vanderberg guy to know I’m coming.”
“What the fuck, Ky,” she screams, and she shoots upright in bed.
I quickly pull her close to me. “That guy shot at us, hit my ear. God knows what could’ve happened to you. He tried to kill a club member, which is perfect because now we’re not doing this by ourselves.” I say it like it’s the most normal thing.
“So now it’s club business?” She sniffs and a tear escapes.
“It already was. You’re one of us, Lay.” My thumb rubs her cheek. God, I can’t deal with her crying.
Layne shakes her head. “Why? I’ve been nothing for a long time—”
“Layne, your dad was VP before I was. You’ll always be family. Besides, everybody knows—”
“Don’t you dare,” she threatens, pointing at me. “I’m not yours.” It comes out in a growl while she pushes me away from her.
“That I love you,” I whisper, my gaze at the black comforter.
She hits her fist against my chest. “Fuck off. You can’t tell me…” Her sentence dies, and another tear slides down. “It isn’t fair.” She furiously swipes across her cheeks.
“Lay, I always loved you and you know it. There’s no one else for me. Never has been.” I wipe the tear away, but it’s to no avail, because the next one already drops. “Honey…” I tilt my head, trying to catch her gaze.
“He’s been dead for three fucking months and look at me. What the hell am I doing…” It sounds as if she’s talking to herself. Her hands push through her hair. “This is all so fucked up. My whole life… Rebel. What does…”
Suddenly she presses her lips to mine, as more tears fall.
For a moment, I freeze, not knowing what to do.
Layne’s crying. She’s confused. I can’t…
I make myself close my eyes and then her lips mold to mine.
Softly, I lick her bottom lip and she opens for me.
As my tongue tangles with hers, I moan and it feels like my whole body can breathe again.
But a little voice is saying this isn’t right.