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"Okay," she agreed, reaching out toward her son, wrapping her arms around him, pulling his back against her front.
"Why don't you go to Colson's room for now until we figure this out," he suggested.
"It's going to be okay," I assured her as she walked past, wondering if there would ever be a way to recover from this, if everything was irreparably fucked.
"Fallon, Laz, whoever is here, get them up, get everyone back here right fucking now," Cash said, every inch of him going tense. "Brooks, Huck, why don't you take our friend downstairs," he said, the ice slipping back into his voice again. "Get him nice and comfortable," he added. "We need to head out."
We waited until we had a dozen of the men back at the clubhouse before we all strapped on and made our way out of the grounds, heading toward the garage Jacob had mentioned.
I should have been spending the ride mentally preparing for a possible shootout, for some form of hand-to-hand action.
But my mind was back in the clubhouse, back to my room. Where Eva and Jacob were still sitting, waiting to hear the outcome of this situation, for how things were going to go from this point on.
Before I could even attempt to figure out what might happen to Jacob for his involvement—knowing something had to happen, that even being underage wouldn't be an excuse for being a part of Reign's imprisonment and torture—we were all pulling into the abandoned lot.
We moved as one, a row of men reaching for their guns, circling around the building.
Everyone's body instantly stiffened at finding the door open halfway, the inside dark.
Cash and Fallon charged in first while the others followed. I hung back, feeling around the wall for the switch, flicking it up, making everyone blink into the vast, empty space.
Well, empty save for one storage cabinet, a massive chain scattered around, and blood staining the cement floor.
Most of it old, dried.
But some new.
"Fuck," Fallon roared, raking a hand through his hair, helpless, unsure what to do.
We stood there in defeated silence, broken only by the ringing of Cash's phone.
"Summer, babe, we think...what?" he asked, glancing around, eyes wide, lips parted. "Slow down. What? You're sure? Okay. Yeah. Alright. I will meet you."
"What's going on?" I asked as he numbly tucked his phone away again.
"Reign is at the hospital."
"What?" Fallon asked
"Yeah," he said, nodding. "He's in surgery. But he's safe. He's in rough shape, kid," he said, holding up a hand in warning. "But he's alive."
"She's sure?" Fallon asked.
"Yeah. She got to see him for a minute before they took him in to fix his shoulder."
"I need... we need to go," Fallon said, already making his way toward the door.
"The rest of you," Cash said, looking at all of us while Fallon's bike roared to life. "Get back to the club. I want heavy guard duty. If they know they lost Reign, I don't know what they will do. No one leaves," he added, looking right at me. "And no one goes near Tyler until I can talk to Reign."
I could practically see the layers of stress and responsibility melting off of Cash's shoulders. He still had to call the temporary shots, but Reign was alive. Reign would eventually be okay. And Reign could handle the plan for retribution.
"Go," Huck said, giving him a nod. "We will tell the others and handle the club. Go see your brother. Comfort his wife. We got this."
With that, Cash rushed off.
Leaving, I guess, Huck in charge since Wolf was likely on his way to the hospital as well.
"Let's go. And eyes peeled," Huck said, waving out to the sides with two fingers, wanting everyone else to fall in line.
There was chaos in the clubhouse as we informed everyone of the news, as they felt relief swell, then pass as they realized this was far from over. Reign was alive. But the men who had hurt him were free.
There was going to be blood on the streets, on our hands.
The mood went from celebratory to somber in a matter of minutes as Huck shouted out orders, sending people in different directions.
"Why don't you send that kid out here to hang with me for a bit?" Huck asked.
"Huck—"
"Not to fucking question him. Christ," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm figuring you need to square shit up with his mom. Hard to do that with the kid there looking all guilty and shit. I'll throw some food at him and stick him in front of the TV."
"You're going to be a great father some day, Huck," West teased as he walked through toward the front door.
"Okay," I agreed, nodding. "But make sure he doesn't get into anything."
"And here I was about to load him up with vodka and tell him the best porn channels," he said, smirking at me.
