Chapter 2
Chapter Two
AYDA
The smell of fresh burning wood made it feel more like a cookout than a funeral pyre. Cloying black clouds rose high above us, but there was nothing we could do to stop the flames now. The fire was in full swing, crawling through the upper branches and into the hazy air above.
I was sickened by the sight of another representation of the club going up in flames, but I couldn’t think about myself right now no matter how gutted I was at the sight of Pete’s tree ablaze.
The man in front of me, the love of my life, was watching one of the most important and significant things in his world turn to charcoal.
For Drew, this would be the same as losing Pete all over again.
This was one of the things we’d been fighting for.
Placing my hand on the skull and hounds at his back, I felt his heart pounding even through the leather.
I gave him the time he needed to process what he was seeing before we acted on this.
I knew this had to have something to do with what we’d done—what we were about to do.
Even the tree seemed to whine as it was consumed, creaking under the pressure of the fire.
We stayed there for a few minutes, both of us speechless, before something other than the blaze cut through the air.
The fire department had arrived.
I could barely hear the sirens over the roar of the fire, but they were there, screaming into the unusually still air. The noise grew louder and louder as we watched something we loved disappear branch by branch, our moment of mourning coming to a sudden end.
Pulling off my helmet, I turned my head and watched as the fire chief’s SUV, with full lights flashing and sirens screaming, passed the cattle grate and slid into the empty field.
He fishtailed as he neared, dirt and grass shooting out from around the vehicle, bringing it a sliding stop.
The driver's door opened with a very purposeful force.
Ronnie Bex, fire chief of the Babylon Fire Department, stepped half out of the vehicle, obviously standing on the side runner as he assessed the fire and frowned in confusion.
He waited for a beat, looking around the field to the roads that cut around it before the crash of a branch pulled his attention back to the blaze.
Then he turned his bewildered eyes to me.
I knew he registered the mess my face was in, but the small shake of my head when he looked at Drew seemed to appease any negative thought he had there.
I hadn’t come up with an excuse for that yet, so I needed to deflect any unwanted questions until I figured out something relative and believable.
Falling down the stairs and walking into the door were too predictable.
“You call this in yet?” Ronnie barked.
I shook my head and left my hand on Drew’s back as I took the lead on the conversation. “We just got here.”
“Son of a whore. What the fuck is going on today?” He held up a hand to me and then reached into his vehicle for a radio handset. “Dispatch: we got a Class A out at the junction of Southwest CR thirty-one fifty, and southwest thirty-one sixty.”
The radio squawked for a moment before clearing, the voice of the dispatcher coming back.
“Sorry, chief, we have dispatched to two other locations. We’re waiting on a third. We don’t have a truck for you right now.”
“Fuck.” He slapped the top of his SUV, squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and pressed the button again before speaking calmly. “Can you call Randy over in Dawson, see if they have a spare rig they can send us?”
“On it, chief.”
I waited for him as he threw the radio back into the passenger seat and watched him swing from his truck before I asked any questions.
“What’s going on?”
Ronnie swiped his BVFD cap from his head and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, letting his gaze move to Drew, and then back to me. The town may have accepted Drew and the Hounds to some extent, but that stigma of Drew being a grenade with a loose pin would always be around.
“Christ. You don’t know?” he asked in surprise.
“Know what? We’ve been out on a ride and then came back to this.” I flung my free hand at the tree in exasperation, acting as though this was the most significant thing in my world. For now, as far as Ronnie Bex was concerned, it was.
“It’s just. Well, The Hut... the Sinclair place, and the remains left at the old factory where…” He didn’t bother finishing that sentence, I was pretty sure my expression said it all. “It’s… it’s all on fire, Ayda. The whole goddamn town is burning.”
“What? The Hut? Owen’s…” I trailed off with concern, my hand covering my mouth. I hoped to God that Owen’s place had burned to the ground before they got to it. I wanted him to be bone when they found him.
“You really haven’t heard?” Pulling his hat back on, he stared at the burning tree and shook his head again. “You two should get back to town.”
Drew had apparently lost his voice, his ability to move, and his usual sense of leadership.
He stared at Ronnie, finally blinking before his entire body tensed—his arms going rigid by his side.
Throwing his head back, Drew let out a feral roar of anger I’d never heard from him before.
His hands were balled into fists, his body shaking as everything fell to pieces around us—pieces we didn’t know were going to fall.
I didn’t say or do anything. There are times when you just have to let a moment happen—when the shit that’s hit the fan has to fall away so you can assess the damage left behind.
I knew Drew wouldn’t fall back into the state he’d been in after Harry’s death.
This wasn’t that kind of mourning. This was an exorcism, and it had to happen so we could figure out what the fuck was going on and move forward.
Ronnie’s eyes widened at the animal sound coming from Drew, growing wider still when the unexpected sound cut off and an almighty crack broke out from the heart of the tree.
“The tree is splitting, y’all. You need to get out of here.”
Drew leaned forward, grabbing the bars of the bike and looking up at the tree in front of him. His breaths were ragged, and he dropped his chin to his chest.
“I can’t fucking watch this,” he said roughly. “Helmet on, Ayda.”
Chancing a glance at Ronnie, he nodded as though saying he had it under control, and I pulled the helmet over my head, muting the crackle of flames.
I’d barely wrapped my arms around Drew’s waist when he took off, spinning the back wheel out from behind us and heading back to the country road.
We had an excuse to head back to The Hut now.
None other than the Fire Chief himself had informed us to. No one could question that.
I was in two minds about this. Home sounded like a balm I needed more than anything else.
Knowing the rest of the guys were safe was a close second.
I just wasn’t sure what we were going to find when we got there.
Fire. Slater, Deeks, and Jedd in custody.
Even the warehouse remnants we’d almost died among were burning again.
We would get answers when we got back, but we had to get back there first. As I tightened my arms around Drew’s waist, I kept my eyes on the black smoke now rising ahead of us.
One was Owen’s place—the other had to be The Hut.
The nearer we got to the center of town, the thicker the smoke became.
Gray haze wrapped around everything and hung in the air like a thick fog, the curves in the road growing more faded the closer we got to the worst of the fires.
Pete’s tree had been isolated in comparison to this, and now all three fires were joining forces and blocking the sky.
If Drew hadn’t known where he was going with his eyes closed, he would have missed the turns that led us home, but he hit every one of them with precision, barely slowing as we came to the turnoff for The Hut.
I heard the dirt and gravel under the tires before the gates came into view.
The air was heavy with the smell of burning wood and plastic.
It was soul destroying, yet another feeling that seemed to be mirrored by Drew’s body language.
Every muscle in his body tensed under my hands as he slowed to a stop next to the fire truck that was running noisily as the men slowly wound back in the hoses and packed up their equipment.
I could see The Hut standing strong where it had always been, safe and secure, still our home. Only there was now a hole in the landscape where the training room once stood. Jagged lines of twisted metal and fallen beams laid in a tired smoldering heap that was slowly beginning to dissipate.
I didn’t have time to think much more about that devastation because Drew became my sole focus.
His gaze was on The Hut. For all I knew that the rest of the land and buildings on it meant the world to Drew, The Hut was his home.
The place where whiskey was spilled, bonds were made stronger, tears were shed in private, and his brothers’ love blossomed.
Then his attention turned to the training room… or what was left of it.
And his shoulders relaxed.
All the tension that had kept him wound up tightly by Pete’s tree and on the ride back here seemed to bleed from him slowly until I saw the way he inhaled deeply, releasing it all in one big stream.
“Thank fuck,” he said, almost to himself.
His reaction to the mess in front of us confused me.
Pushing the helmet from my head, I swung my leg over the bike and stood on solid ground for the first time in what felt like hours. Sickness washed over me. My face and body hurt, and there was a spot on my cheek that felt raw as the helmet brushed against it.
“Drew?”
He locked eyes on mine, searching wildly, as though hoping I was real and not a figment of his imagination.
I usually adored it when he looked at me that way, clinging to me like a dream he was scared to wake up from, but something about it in that very moment, with all the world ablaze around us, made me feel nervous.
“We need to find Kenny,” he said huskily.
Right on cue, Kenny came charging down the street, his hand pressed against his chest.
He was heading right for Drew when he glanced at me and slid to a stop.
The horror and disgust on his face told me exactly what he saw.
He didn’t see me though—just what Owen had done to me.
I had no doubt they’d been filled in on what happened and told what to expect, but I actually considered putting my helmet back on.
“I’m fine,” I told him. I could see him mouthing ‘son of a bitch’ and shaking his head in disbelief before he continued toward us, his eyes moving between Drew, me, and the firemen still milling about and packing the truck up. “What happened here?” I demanded.
“They moved us across the street. Everyone’s there, including Tate,” Kenny’s response was aimed at Drew, and I knew it was pointless to ask questions.
The king was back in his kingdom, and it was time to reclaim his throne.