Chapter 23 #2
Until I saw Jacob’s head snap to the bleachers as someone called out to him. My eyes followed where he turned to look up, and the very second I saw a figure standing as arrogantly as I did, wearing a leather cut, with his hair and eyes hidden under a black baseball cap, my spine stiffened.
Jacob stood, planting his hands on his hips as he shouted something at the visitor in the bleachers.
The visitor didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he pointed at his wrist, signaling the time before he thumbed over his shoulder and gave Jacob a nod. Jacob saluted in return before he dropped back down to the ground and went back to organizing the small cones in size order.
I, however, was focusing all my attention on the leather cut.
And the moment the guy wearing it turned around and began to walk back up the steps, I was pretty fucking certain I forgot how to breathe.
Because as sure as I had a dick between my legs, there stood a rival MC member, walking away from me without a care in the world…
Without any knowledge of my presence…
Without any fear in his heart…
Without any worry about being in someone else’s territory.
With one very large, scary as shit Navarro Rifles patch on his back.
The Navs were in Babylon.
And Jacob Hove seemed to know them well.
The van practically spun into a parking space outside Rusty’s.
The screeching of the tires had everyone sitting by a window looking out to the parking lot in one swift head snap.
I barely waited for the engine to die before I jumped out of the seat, slammed the door and ran up the steps to the door, the leather edges of my cut flapping as I moved quickly.
“Ayda!” I shouted, looking left and right. “Ayda?”
I saw Janette first, and that was good enough for me. I ran straight toward her, grabbed her shoulders and was about to scream where the fuck is Ayda? when I saw a familiar figure pushing her ass against the swinging doors and backing out into the diner.
Ayda turned, her face lighting up the moment she saw me, but that didn’t last long. The second her eyes met mine she saw something was wrong. In one practiced move, she handed the tray she’d been holding to Janette and told her the table number before rushing to me with a panic of her own.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her hands curling around the two sides of my cut.
I had no time to spare to be gentle. Glancing over her head, searching every corner of the diner I could, I practically growled at her, “Get your shit. We’re going home.”
She looked at me, obviously calculating the severity of the situation.
Whatever she saw in my eyes had her convinced, and after one short nod of agreement, she replied.
“Okay. Let me just explain to Janette, and I’ll grab my things.
” She turned but stopped, and twisted back to face me again. “Is… is everyone… healthy?”
“Just fucking move, Ayda,” I snapped quietly, struggling to stay in control as I scanned behind me. “Now.”
Putting both hands up in surrender, even though her eyes were narrowed at me, she walked backward for a couple of steps before turning and following a bewildered looking Janette into the back.
I tapped my foot and ran my hand through the longer lengths of my hair when Sam walked past looking concerned. I reached out without thinking, grabbing her arm a little too tightly. Her eyes widened, and I realized my mistake, loosening my grip and swallowing as I looked down on her worried face.
“Has anyone been in here today that you’ve never seen before?”
Sam scowled, swallowing as she looked at the doors Ayda and Janette had disappeared through before she glanced back up at me.
“We get travelers every day, Drew.”
“Not tourists. I’m talking about anyone like us…”
She glanced at the president patch on my cut. “You mean… someone from the MC?”
“Any MC,” I whispered.
Her scowl deepened as she searched my eyes. “No.”
“No?”
“I… I don’t think—”
She didn’t get time to finish before the swinging doors flew open again to reveal Ayda staring at my hand on Sam’s arm. I dropped it instantly, straightening up and pushing my hands into the pockets of my jeans to keep them under control.
“I’ll see you later, Sam,” Ayda said with a quiet smile, before glaring at me and marching toward the front door while pulling her bag up over her head so it crossed her body.
She could glare at me all she wanted. The only thing I cared about was getting her back to The Hut.
I tried to grab her hand and drag her down the steps, but she somehow timed it so she had to readjust her bag again, a move I was certain was done to avoid my death grip.
I was scaring her and I knew it. But the Navs were circling, and that demanded the old Drew Tucker.
Not the new one. That was the problem with being the leader.
Sometimes you couldn’t stay nice. You had to switch that panic button and go into battle mode again.
I opened her door and watched her climb in and side-eye me the entire time. I slammed the door shut and jogged around to the driver’s side before I climbed in myself and started the engine.
The silence was thick as I backed out of the parking lot, once again spinning the wheel a little too hard right and causing the van to sway from the jerky movement.
Ayda slapped her hand and grabbed her seatbelt, dragging it into place as I pulled onto the feeder road, almost sideswiping the Toyota chugging along innocently in the next lane over.
Her body turned in the seat, her knee resting on the bench seat as she studied my face, trying to get a read on the situation.
“What the fuck is going on, Drew? You come into the diner frantic, question my co-workers while I’m following your rude and snappy orders to get my shit then drag me out without a word.
You’re scaring the shit out of me, and it looks like you did a pretty good job of terrifying Sam, too. Can you please explain this?”
I heard her, but I didn’t hear her. I was too busy leaning forward, checking my mirrors and listening to the sound of the pipes on the bike that was suddenly gaining on us from behind.
“Call the school. Get Tate back to The Hut. Tell them there’s a family emergency. Sloane, too. Shit… I need to call Sutton.” I glanced over at her lap, trying to seek out her bag. “Ayda, you call Sutton. Do it now.”
“And tell him what?” she snapped impatiently. “You’re freaking me the fuck out.”
The bike gaining on us grew louder, and I took my foot off the gas to ease up. I needed to see. I needed to see if it was one of them before I spoke again—because if it was, I was about to veer this car to the left and run some Nav off the road.
“Drew, give me something to go on here.” She ran her hands through her hair, noticed my attention on the bike and twisted to look out the back of the van.
“Come on, you son of a bitch,” I muttered under my breath, watching the Harley get closer.
Closer…
Closer…
Until whoever was riding that bike sped up and came level with my window, turning to face me wearing a smile before he gave me the thumbs up like the happy vacationer he was and tore off into the distance.
I sagged immediately, dropping my head back against the seat and feeling the weight of the tension disappear from my shoulders for just a single second.
The thought of not killing a Navarro Rifle member was almost as appealing as sex. Almost.
“Shit,” I blew out. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Drew.” Ayda sucked in a breath and reached out a hand before letting it drop back into her lap. “Fucking say something.”
I closed my eyes for just a moment before I opened them again, stared out at the road and then turned to look into Ayda’s eyes. “We need to gather the club together. Everyone. Including the kids. Something big is about to happen, Ayda. I can feel it.”
“You know I trust your judgment. I know you wouldn’t steer us wrong, but if you want me to call Sutton and convince him to pull the kids from school, you have to give me more than that to go on. He’s a friend of the club, but he’s not going to take your intuition as law.”
“He will.” I nodded once, turning back to stare at the road ahead of me. “Once you tell him we have a Nav in our town.”