Chapter 5 Ford
FIVE
FORD
I pulled up to the construction site with my coffee in hand and a death grip on my cell.
Apparently, our outposts had been hit overnight, and all of them had been done after our cameras were destroyed, so we had no idea who was responsible. My mood was shit, and Johnson was aware of this, which was why he was the one communicating with our crew this morning.
I eyed the name on the side of the truck and thought back to what I had said to Royce when she asked where I was working.
What a fucking joke that she didn’t even know.
That was typical Royce. Self-absorbed and unaware of literally anyone else around her.
I didn’t just work in construction; I owned the company and employed over eighty people.
She sat on her high horse about this town not changing, unaware that the club had shaped all the major changes within it.
For years she hadn’t taken up any space in my head, so it was an odd sensation to go through my workday still pondering our conversation from three days ago.
She said she’d be hanging around the club from now on to ensure nothing would happen, and I’d yet to see her.
I was on edge with the worry and stress that she’d randomly pop up.
As much as I tried to deter her with rumors of the Sweetbutts being too wild, or the chaos of the members, the truth was I didn’t want her in the club.
She was a distraction, and I didn’t know how I would respond to seeing other members around her.
I was grateful to my men who didn’t need me much as I took call after call, trying to sort through who it was that had hit our outposts.
I texted Killian and Wes and informed them we needed to have a church meeting tonight to make a plan.
Finally, after pissing away almost the entire workday dealing with this shit, I moved to the mobile trailer that I had set up my office in and took off my hard hat.
I just needed to bury myself in actual work that wasn’t related to the club, get some new plans made up for the next phase of construction that I had in mind.
I owned the company, which made cutting corners easier than they should be.
I didn’t skimp on any construction process, because I truly did plan on having the residents of Rose Ridge getting these homes.
However, I buried evidence in the basements and hid bags of money inside the drywall of a few garages.
I knew where it was all hidden, each and every house in about three dozen different neighborhoods.
None of it was hidden at the clubhouse, so if the feds came looking, even with a warrant, they’d find shit.
My phone buzzed with a phone call, which wasn’t exactly normal especially when I saw who the caller was. I pressed my thumb to the green button and lifted the phone to my ear.
“Rook?”
He waited for a second before replying, “Ford.”
Smartass. “What’s wrong?”
“Me calling you out of the blue has to mean something’s wrong?
” Rook laughed, and it made me miss my friend.
He was living in London last I heard, but he moved so frequently, it was hard to keep up.
It hurt when his family left, and even if they came back once a year for a big vacation, it wasn’t the same as having him here.
I heard his younger brother, Ryle, was still with his mom and dad over in Italy, but my intel wasn’t always up to date.
“Yeah, sorta.”
He let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, you’re correct. Listen, I have as much info on this as I’m going to share, so don’t ask a bunch of follow-up questions, okay?”
That was cryptic. “Okay.”
“You know I work in tech, which means I’m always watching out for anything that could lead us to Max or whatever might hurt the club.”
“That’s so kind of you, Rook. You know you could just come home and stop being a chickenshit.”
He laughed again, and but someone yelled out a coffee order in the back, making him muffle his phone. “Do you want this tip or not?”
After the day I had, I’d take any tip that might help make sense of how we’d been hit.
“Yes.”
“Royce is in a video that’s trending on social media.”
This had nothing to do with the fucking outposts. I let out an annoyed sigh while I rubbed my forehead. “What the fuck does that mean, Rook?”
“It means this video is landing on the FYP of anyone who has ever looked up anything motorcycle or biker-related.”
I still wasn’t connecting what he was trying to break down for me. “I don’t understand…why is she trending?”
“Because she’s in underwear, and as far as the bikers’ for you page…I think that’s because of her tattoo.”
“What tattoo?” Fuck, did my voice just crack?
Rook waited to reply, but I heard him typing, then distractedly answered. “The one that links her to the Stone Riders. I’ll look to see where this video originated, but you might get further talking directly to her. It seems as though it’s an ad for the underwear she’s wearing.”
An ad? That didn’t make any sense. “Are you sure it’s Royce and not Taryn? They look alike occasionally, when Taryn lets her hair grow out and wears high heels.”
Rook laughed. “I grew up with them, Ford. I know which sister is which. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter which one it is, the link to the Stone Riders, and it being connected to either of Killian’s daughter’s is the fucking problem.”
My chest felt a little too warm as I closed my eyes and tried to make sense of this. Rook joked, “Or you could pull it up on your laptop and verify it for yourself.”
“Fuck off, you know I’m just trying to confirm who it is before I take this to Killian.”
His laugh pissed me off enough that I pulled the phone away from my ear.
“Can you find out if this was planned, or if someone leaked it on purpose,” I snapped.
“Yeah. I’ll be in touch.” Rook continued laughing as I hung up.
In another version of my life, I’d open the app, swipe over to this video ,and stare at whatever mess Royce got herself into this time. In this reality, I had to worry about how this clusterfuck was going to affect the club.
I ran my hand through my hair, trying to decide how I was going to break this to Killian when Johnson ran into the trailer. He was breathless and panicked.
“Killian called, he said he needs that meeting now. Something happened with Royce.”
Fuck.
My boots echoed against each step as I made my way down into the cellar, lit with only a few overhead hanging lights.
Shelves still lined most of the walls with a shit ton of food and weapons, but in the center of the room was a large table with twelve chairs tucked underneath.
This was where we held church, and the room upstairs was merely to throw others off the scent of the true nature of what the Stone Riders had become.
We couldn’t trust anyone at the moment, including our allies.
With the changes in our ranks, we were not only vulnerable, but at the moment, we were weak.
“Prez.” Killian dipped his head in respect as his hand came down on my back in passing.
A strange swarm of feelings hit my stomach, but I pushed them down. My mouth parted in reply, trying to figure out what to say in response because things had been fucking weird since I took this role over six months ago.
There were only a few people who knew that I was currently the president of the Stone Riders motorcycle club, and for the time being, we had to keep it that way.
Dad came in next, slapping me on the back and then the rest of my closest men made their way over—Logan, and Rev, followed by Johnson with a Twinkie sticking out of his mouth. Kody, Slade, Norman, Dane, Orson, and last, Connor’s dad, Jameson, filled the remaining chairs at the table.
They each greeted me with a respectful nod, while relaxing into their spots. I knew we had to keep this brief because there were men upstairs who didn’t need to get curious about where the core leadership of this club went.
“We have the outposts to go over, but Johnson said something happened to one of your kids, Killian?” I lifted my chin toward where he sat at the other end of the table and then tapped my finger against the surface.
I was trying to ensure no one thought I cared that this had to do with Royce being in a video in her underwear.
Although I still hadn’t pulled it up, and I wasn’t sure I would, I wouldn’t show her father that I cared one way or another.
His angry scowl deepened as he leaned on his elbows over the table. “I’ve been made aware of a video circulating of Royce…” His jaw clenched, and I didn’t envy him having to talk about his daughter in a compromising shot, in front of us. “She uh…”
Fuck, this was painful to watch. I stood up, so everyone’s focus went to me.
“Rook called and told me the video links her to the club.”
Johnson was in the only rolling chair at the table, which meant he moved around like a toddler. He slid forward and glanced down the length of the table. “How did it link her to us?”
Killian locked eyes with me, silently asking me to be cautious.
“Her tattoo—it’s of our patch.” There were a few murmured comments around the able, but I didn’t want to give them much time to discuss Royce.
“Did this report come from Silas?” I asked Killian.
Killian’s head tilted to the side. “No. It came from the Chaos Kings.”
That meant this video really was everywhere.
“So why is the video trending, is she in a fight or something?” Johnson asked while casting a nervous glance in my direction.
Killian’s jaw tensed.
My fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of the table to get some semblance of control. “Royce is modeling in the video.”
Johnson still seemed confused while pulling out another Twinkie. “What could she possibly be modeling that would show our patch? I’ve never seen any tattoo, and she wears tank tops and shorts around us all the time.”