CHAPTER THREE
Two days later
– XANE –
“What are we doing here, Prez?” Roux asks while I keep my eyes on my target.
Z is balancing coffee in one hand and her bag and keys in the other. I know she’s aware of me sitting on my bike in front of the clinic because she’s refusing to glance my way.
“Stay here,” I order my VP and walk toward Z.
Before I reach her, she snaps, “Go away, Grayer. Unless you’re here to drop off another baby, or need to let one of my colleagues treat you for an STD.”
“I’m all clean, Z. Thanks for asking,” I huskily tell her.
The green in her eyes dulls the blue when she whirls around on me and jabs my chest with the key.
“I’m sure you can get an update on the baby from somebody else.
So, why are you here? And don’t tell me it’s to see me because I know for a fact you’ve been back for weeks.
Piss off, Grayer. Seriously. Piss. The. Fuck. Off.”
“Sweet curves and a hot mouth. Nice. Who might you be, darlin’?” I hear Roux state from behind me.
Both me and Z simultaneously snap, “Fuck off.”
Z’s cheeks flush and she mutters, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Some people just piss me off, especially when my caffeine is below asshole toleration level.”
“Same, girl. Same.” My VP holds out his hand. “Roux DeMills. Nice to meet you.”
She balances her coffee between her tits and her arm and is about to take the fucker’s hand. No. Fucking. Way.
I turn to step between them and snarl at my VP, “I said wait by the damn bikes.”
Roux throws his hands palm up. “Fine, Prez. No need to piss a circle around her. I just wanted to know what kind of sweetness you were hiding.”
While I glare at my VP, I hear the door fall shut and throw a glance over my shoulder to see Z locking the clinic. Fuck. They don’t open for another ten damn minutes.
“I’ll see you tonight, Z,” I bellow so she can hear me.
She flips me off and it makes me grin. She heard me.
I wander back to my bike when Roux says, “I think it’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in...fuck. Do you ever smile? Besides the creepy grin you’re sporting when you torture people, of course. So, who’s the chick?”
Straddling my bike, I grab my helmet and grunt, “None of your business. Come on, let’s pay Keenan another visit.”
“Another visit as in drag him out of bed? If so, I’m all for it. The fucker’s been dodging us for the past two days,” Roux states and fires up his bike.
I lift my chin and guide my bike onto the road. Time to get some shit done. A handful of minutes later I hit the kickstand and swing my leg over the bike as I glance at the large house in front of me.
“Looks like the fucker isn’t up yet,” Roux states as he glances through the window.
Balling my fist, I pound on the door and simultaneously ring the bell. “He better get the fuck out here.”
“Someone’s pissy when his woman is giving him the cold shoulder.” Roux snickers.
I shoot him a glare while my patience slips away. Zora is not my woman. I lost that fucking right to call her mine when I gracefully put her needs and dreams before us. Not that she fucking knows it.
Doesn’t mean the fucker doesn’t strike a nerve. Deep down I do have to admit, it does trigger memories. Each one of my firsts was hers, just as every one of her firsts were mine. Kissing, palming tits, licking pussy, shoving my cock into her tight heat for the first time.
Motherfucker, I need to focus. Pissed off at the whole situation, I grab a garden gnome and swing it against the small window next to the door. It shatters on impact along with the window and I reach in to open the door from the inside.
Stepping into the house, I bellow, “Caleb Keenan, get your motherfucking ass down here right now.”
I hear footsteps above us and I reach for my weapon just as the man in question rushes down the stairs. He’s wearing boxers and has a gun aimed at my head.
“Xane? Is that you? What the hell, man?” Keenan grumbles.
I tuck my weapon away, knowing my VP still has a gun aimed at Keenan. “I’m here to ask you the same thing, Keenan. What the hell were you thinking? Asking two fuckers to trash the bar, getting an innocent killed in the process.”
“Wait. You’re not thinking I had something to do with Kate’s death, do you, Xane?
I wouldn’t do anything to her father’s bar, man.
” Keenan places his gun on a side table.
“I own a club, they have a bar, serving food along with it. We’re not in the same league, Xane.
Besides, some of the customers go to their bar first but always end up in my establishment.
I’d be stupid to mess with them ’cause their regulars won’t step foot in my club.
So, if they’re not open? I’ll have those regulars sitting at the bar complaining how they dislike everything because they don’t fucking belong in a club. ”
I share a glance with Roux. This was the same thing we discussed right before we left the clubhouse this morning. Keenan ordering the hit on the bar doesn’t make any fucking sense.
“If you didn’t do it, then who would want to set you up?” I wonder out loud.
Keegan sits down on the coffee table and rubs his neck. “No clue. A lot of shit was happening before and after your father’s death.”
“Murder,” I correct him, because my father didn’t simply die.
His gaze lands on mine when he echoes, “Murder.”
“Anything particular stand out among the shit that’s happened these past few months?” Roux asks.
Releasing a deep sigh, he glances in the direction of the stairs and says, “Let’s go into the kitchen. I need some damn coffee.”
When he passes the stairs, he raises his voice slightly and says, “Stay in bed, babe. I’ll be right up after I’ve talked to some of my friends.”
We hear a door slam shut and Keenan shakes his head as he mutters, “Women.”
Following him into the kitchen, I watch how he makes coffee and then finally says, “Last week some guy came into my club and made an offer to buy my property.”
“Your property, as in your club?” Roux asks.
Keenan nods. “It was a fair bid, but I’m not looking to sell.”
I grab my phone and ask, “Do you have a name?”
“Helmer Neron. Never heard of him before he stepped foot in my club. The fucker did mention I was going to regret refusing his offer. I laughed in his face and he merely stood up and left.”
“Seen him around since?” Roux questions.
I fire off a message to Spence Lawson, the president of the Broken Deeds MC New Jersey chapter. He’s still my president, even if I just became the president of Xane MC. Me going undercover was easy ’cause the motorcycle club carries my family’s name. It’s my birthright.
Spence’s club has a completely different family legacy. Where my father and my grandfather were the peacekeepers of this town, Broken Deeds MC actually works for the government. They’ve been working crime cases for decades, and Spence is part of the second generation with his own chapter.
Which is why I requested to go undercover, take the gavel, and find out who killed my father. The only ones who know this little fact are Spence, Roux, and Fawkes. Spence being our handler, and Roux and Fawkes are both undercover with me.
“No, haven’t seen him since,” Keenan states, pulling me back to the here and now.
“Have you heard any other rumors about this Neron fucker?” I ask.
Keenan sips his coffee. “Nope. I’ll reach out if I do.”
I lift my chin. “Appreciate it.”
We’re about to leave when Keenan asks, “What about the window?”
I glance over my shoulder. “What about it?”
He glances over the rim of his mug. “Who’s going to pay for it?”
Narrowing my eyes, I snap, “You, so you remember to get back to me the next time I want to fucking talk. I should have had that name from you two damn days ago.”
The idiot stays quiet, knowing damn well he dodged my calls and visits.
We walk out the door and when I straddle my bike I tell Roux, “I gave Spence the intel, so he knows what we’re working on. He might know something you won’t be able to find out.”
Roux snorts. “Hardly. No one’s better than me when I get behind my laptop.”
The corner of my mouth twitches at the fucker’s confidence.
He’s not lying though. He’s a very skilled hacker and the reason why I asked him to come with me.
Not just to have at least one person I can trust to have my back, but also to be able to work together on finding the one responsible for my father’s death.
My gut tells me the man whose name we just discovered has something to do with it.