Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Broken.
What is it she’s afraid she’s broken? Herself?
The only thing I’m worried about is whether those bastards broke her. Whether I’ve lost my Layne to something other than another man. What the fuck did she see in there? What the hell happened? That place killed Jen, but what did it do to Layne?
Before the sun’s fully up, I get out of bed. I couldn’t sleep at all after Rebel lay down beside us. The bed seemed too small, which it probably was for the three of us.
In the meantime, I’ve sorted out a few things.
I take a sip of my coffee and write a note to Layne asking her to stay on the property and to let me know if she leaves the apartment.
Maybe she’s going to my mom’s. After all, those two women are still there.
I release a guttural sigh. I really don’t know what to do with them, but right now I’ve got other priorities.
Well, one: Brooks.
A glance at my watch tells me it’s just after seven, which means it’s a reasonable time to show up.
I put the note on the breakfast bar and place a cup on top of it. After one last look at the bedroom door, I walk to the hallway.
I step into the reasonably cool morning. The advantage of this time of day is that the temperature’s still bearable for California.
A few minutes later, I turn down the road toward Brooks’ house.
The wind slips past me as I ride through the quiet streets of Folsom.
The drive to Brooks’s place is short, and before long, I’m pulling up and killing the engine.
The kitchen light is already glowing through the window, so I make my way up to the porch without a second thought.
I draw in a steadying breath and let my knuckles tap against the wooden door.
“Hey, Kyler,” Brandon mumbles as he opens the door. He struggles to pull up the corners of his mouth.
Hmm. Why did Brandon open the door? My stomach sinks into my shoes. I follow him into the house and to the kitchen. There’s a bowl of cereal and a carton of milk on the table. Brandon slides onto a chair, grabs the milk, and pours it into the bowl.
“Where’s your dad?” I ask him.
“The garage.” Brandon’s voice is soft, and my heart aches for him. I ruffle his hair and walk to the door leading to the garage.
I knock on it. “Brooks?”
Various noises come from behind the door, but I can’t identify them. I carefully open it and peek around the corner.
“Brandon, go back inside.” His voice is abrupt.
“It’s me,” I respond.
There’s a black duffel bag on the floor. It’s open and filled with all kinds of shit, from concrete cutters to an extra box of ammo for his gun. “What the hell are you planning to do?”
“Please tell Brandon he can go to your mom’s,” he mumbles and throws his machete into the bag. What’s he planning to do with that? Like some kind of ninja…
“Sure, but that’s not what I asked. Maybe we should make some arrangements for him.
” I need to talk to Layne about this, I decide.
Maybe she’ll have an idea, because that kid can’t depend on Brooks alone.
He’s too young for that, and Brooks isn’t home at regular hours.
There’s no way he can grow up anywhere else but with his father. “Brooks, what the fuck are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?” he exclaims. “That fucker’s a dead man.”
“I get that, but what are you about to do?” I plant myself in front of him, legs spread, arms crossed.
“Think, Kyler. I’m going to track that guy down and tear him apart. I’ll do it slowly, piece by piece, so he squeals like a pig at slaughter.” The murderous gleam in his eyes is obvious.
“You’re not gonna do that.”
He jumps up and pushes me. “I’ll decide that myself. It’s not your wife who didn’t come home, asshole.”
“No, but it’s your son who I gotta tell that both his mom and dad aren’t coming home.
And that’s something I refuse to do. Wasn’t I clear yesterday?
” I jab my index finger into his chest. “What you’re going to do is come with me to the club and discuss what the plan’s going to be to get Jen’s body back and how we can punish that bastard without you getting yourself killed. Do you understand?”
“Goddammit,” he yells. He throws his arms over his head. Then he pulls his head down and sinks to his knees. A scream comes out of him that cuts through me.
I carefully put my hand on his shoulder. “He’s yours, okay? You can deal with him. But we have to do this the smart way.”
When he looks up, it’s as if his soul has been torn in two. “Why are you right? I can’t do this, Kyler. Without her… How? Brandon…” And then he collapses onto his ass. A loud thud echoes through the garage and he hangs his head between his legs. “She didn’t deserve to die. I do, Ky. Why her?”
“If I knew the answer, I would’ve told you, mate. They should’ve kept their fucking hands off her.” I hold out my hand to him. “Come on. We’ll take Brandon to Mom, and you’re coming with me to the chapel. We’ve got shit to sort out.”
Thank God he does as I say. He clamps his hand around mine and I pull him to his feet. His fingers close around the zipper of the bag and he pulls it shut with a quick movement, then lifts it up.
“Brandon,” my best friend says as we step through the door into the kitchen.
Brandon is slumped over the dining table. It’s obvious he’s been crying. The kid has red eyes, and barely touched his food.
“Shit,” Brooks mutters and drops his bag.
With a deep sigh, he crouches down in front of his son.
“Listen,” he says. “Ky’s right. I’m going to do better for you, but I’m also going to catch your mom’s killer.
I’ll be as careful as possible, I promise.
I don’t want you to be left alone, okay?
But sometimes I need someone to remind me of that, to help me remember that I’m not the only one who lost Mom. ” Brooks runs a hand through his hair.
“No, you’re not,” Brandon mumbles.
“I don’t really know what to do either. I’m doing what I can, okay, Bran?”
Man, I feel like an intruder. This is a conversation between the two of them, and I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“Okay, Dad. Promise?”
“Promise.” Brooks nods, and Brandon throws his arms around his father’s neck. “Get your helmet. I’ll ask Abby if you can stay there.”
“Can’t I go to Layne and Rebel’s?” The kid looks at me.
Shrugging my shoulders, I hum, “Let’s check when we get to the club. If the situation allows it, I’m fine with it.”
Without another word, Brandon retrieves his helmet. A few minutes later, I have a black overnight bag strapped to the back of my bike and Brandon climbs on the back of Brooks.
As we enter the compound, Colt and Pax are directly in our path. “Dad called us to the chapel.”
“Great,” I say as I turn off my bike. “That’s exactly what I wanted to ask. What time?” I put my helmet on the saddle.
“Nine.” My younger brother puts a cigarette between his lips, tilts his head and brings his lighter to the tip.
“Perfect. Come, Brandon, we’ll ask if you can stay with Layne and Rebel.” I nod at my apartment. He immediately follows me and together we walk up the stairs.
“Layne,” I call out once we are upstairs.
Standing in the kitchen, I look into the room and see that both of the other girls are as well. “Can Brandon stay with you guys today?” Before I even finish my sentence, Rebel throws herself around his neck.
“Of course.” Layne’s fingers find mine, and I give them a squeeze. “By the way, I might have an idea, but I’ll discuss it with the girls before I pitch it to you and Brooks.” She gives me a warm look and I nod.
“Fine. I’ll hear about it later. We have to go to chapel, so I have to leave,” I say with regret in my voice, and throw my thumb over my shoulder.
Still, I take a step toward her, then hesitate briefly before I continue.
Standing in front of her, I press a kiss on top of her head.
“See you later, ‘kay?” I search her face for something, but I have no idea what that something is.
“Yeah, see you later.” She nods, and strangely, that comment brings relief. A grin spreads across my lips and when she plants a kiss on them, something akin to relief floods through me. Then I head back outside.
“Come on,” I say to Brooks when I’m back downstairs.
Together, we walk into the chapel. I take a seat next to my father and nod at Brooks. “He’s on edge,” I whisper to Kai.
“Was afraid of that,” Dad hums. Then he slides a sheet of paper across the table. “We got mail.”
I glance down at the sheet and swallow my surprise. “What the fuck’s this?”
“We’re all here,” my father says, banging the hammer on the table. “Okay, listen up.” Everyone turns their attention to him and it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “A letter’s been delivered.”
“What kind of fucking letter?” Brooks roars, trying to stand up.
My father holds his hand up. “It’s from Vanderberg. It’s obvious he’s afraid of him.” Kai nods to Brooks.
“Then he’s smarter than I thought,” my best friend says flatly.
My father doesn’t respond to the comment and instead starts reading the letter aloud.
“Tomorrow around three o’clock, a black car will back up to the gate of the MC. The trunk will open automatically. Inside, you’ll find the body of Mrs. Paisley. The driver is unaware of his cargo; threatening him is pointless, as he’s a hired employee.
“I want to make it clear that it was never our intention for any of them to die.
“Karl Ericssen shot her. We’re aware that Mrs. Hayes won’t go to the police about her husband. So, we’ve decided that the case’s closed for us. Both Mrs. Hayes and her daughter will be left alone by me and my organization.
“I hope you’re satisfied with this. Now that you have Mrs. Paisley’s body, hopefully, this matter is resolved.
“Sincerely, Nick Vanderberg.”
The groan that comes out of Kai’s mouth when he finishes reading suggests that even he isn’t done with this.
Brooks bangs his fist on the table. “What is that moron thinking? That he can take my wife from me with no consequences and then return her in a fucking box?”
“No.” My father’s voice is eerily calm. “No, he can’t.
What you’re going to do tomorrow is accept your wife’s body.
You’re going to make sure she gets a proper burial, that she gets everything she should’ve gotten in fifty years.
You’ll make sure someone comes to help you take care of Brandon.
Because you need someone to help you.” Kai sighs.
“And then you’re going to search and ask around.
You’re going to do everything in your power to find out everything you can about Nick Vanderberg, Karl Ericssen, and anyone else who had anything to do with her death. Do you understand, Brooks?”
He sniffs. “That bastard’s death.”
Now it’s my father who’s banging his fist on the table. “Do you understand, Brooks?” He runs a hand over his face. “First, take care of everything for your wife and son, and then… Then comes sweet revenge.”
Brooks nods.
“Tomorrow at half-past eight, you’ll be standing at that gate until that car arrives.
” His gaze sweeps over the others. “I want the rest of you to report anything you hear about the Knights of Mayhem, Nick Vanderberg, or that Karl Ericsson to me. Nothing happens without Brooks’ permission.
It’s his wife, his decision. Understood? ”
All the men shout “Aye.” And as soon as my father brings down the gavel, the meeting is over.