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Instead of answering the question, I lean over and kiss her. “Love you.”
Chance is more forgiving of my exit. “Bye, Daddy!” He waves without getting up from the floor where he’s playing.
I reach down and pick him up, squeezing him tight to me and kiss the top of his head. “Love you, Chance. Take care of your mom while I’m out, okay?”
“Okay!”
Before straddling my bike, I send Rooster a text, letting him know it’s go time.
He’s waiting out front with a rather unremarkable black sedan. Nothing to draw anyone’s attention. One more bland car to blend in with all the others in Ironworks.
“Got everything?”
“Go bag’s in the trunk,” he answers. “Let’s do it.”
Rooster and I ride up in silence most of the way. “I can’t believe you have me driving an electric fucking car.”
“What?” He shrugs. “It’s quiet. And no one would expect you to ever drive one.”
“Got that right. It’s fucking small.” My knees have been crammed into the dashboard for the entire drive.
The senator lives on the outskirts of Empire county. East of our clubhouse. No neighbors for miles. According to the cameras I placed a week ago, he’s alone. Wife left him when he first got arrested. Wonder if she ever suspected what a creep he was.
Fucker must be lonely too, if the call he placed to Loco is any indication.
Let me get out my tiny little violin.
I won’t allow this piece of shit to break her again. No one’s dragging her into court to make her look at that pathetic excuse for a man. Not after everything she’s been through and how far she’s come. How far we’ve come.
I finally have a chance to do what should’ve been done before.
We park in front of Loco’s building and I call him to let him know I’m there. He says to use the basement entrance, so that’s where we go.
Last time I was down here, we beat some members of a rival MC who was trying to push into our territory to within an inch of their lives. Good times.
At least things won’t get so messy here today. Rooster’s only planting the bomb here. We’ll set it off at the Senator’s house.
Loco meets us downstairs. “He just got here. His car’s in the garage. I’ll show you.” He gives Rooster a second look. “You ain’t blowing up my house, are you?”
“No, Loco,” I assure him.
“Let’s go. I got Malik outside the door in case he gets rough with Emilia. That happens, he’s getting a beating and tossed out. So work quick.”
Rooster gives me the side-eye and I shrug. Loco’s house, Loco’s rules. He’s doing us a huge favor. I’m not going to bitch about the conditions he puts on it.
“This is it.” He stops in front of the white Mercedes I’ve trailed a few times over the last couple weeks.
“Beautiful car.” Rooster shakes his head. “Give me five minutes.” He glances around. “You got cameras?”
“In here? Fuck no,” Loco says. “I gotta get back inside. Text me when you’re done.”
Rooster drops down to the concrete floor and scoots under the car so only his lower half is hanging out. I crouch down and hand him stuff as he asks for it while scanning the front and back doors for signs of anyone coming.
My phone buzzes.
Loco: He’s coming out in ten.
Shit. “Ten minutes, Rooster.”
“Almost done.”
I shoot back a text to Loco.
Maybe if the senator walks out and finds us here, I’ll just beat him to death instead. Be a lot less messy. I flip the wrench I’m holding in my hand a few times while I picture sinking it into the guy’s skull.
“Done.” Rooster slides out from under the car. “Let’s roll.”
I text Loco that we’re finished and he tells us to go around the outside of the building.
We jog through the alleyway and slide into our car. This time, Rooster gets behind the steering wheel.
Loco: He’s leaving. Should hit Ferry in five.
“Pull up there.” I point ahead to where Ferry street intersects with the street we’re on. Rooster hands me the cell phone we’ll use to detonate the bomb once the Senator’s clear of any people.
I pull the small laptop out of the backpack in the backseat and check the cameras at Kelly’s house for any visitors. Nothing but some deer frolicking in the front yard.
The white Mercedes passes in front of us and Rooster puts our car in motion. We have to wait to make the left turn and he gets a little ahead of us, but that’s fine. I don’t want to be too close anyway.
The asshole makes a few stops along the way. Which is annoying as fuck and stresses me out each time. “You’re sure it won’t accidentally blow?”
“I’m sure. Chill.”
Finally, he’s on the road to his house.
The property’s secured by a gate, we hang back as far as we can without completely losing sight of him until he pulls into his driveway.
The gate swings shut behind him.
“One more check.” Rooster takes the laptop from my hands and scans the video feeds again. “Clear. He’s parking in front of the house.”
We already went over the procedure a dozen times.
The pressing of the send button feels anti-climatic after all this cloak-and-dagger shit.
The blast is deafening, even from where we’re sitting. Black smoke billows up over the trees. Rooster checks the feed. “Oh yeah, he’s toast.”
There’s a second blast.
That one sounds like Lilly’s freedom.
Chapter Forty-Five
Z
Rock calls early the next morning. I’m sure it’s because he heard about the bombing. It takes him a while to bring it up though.
“You still coming down for family day?” I ask. We’ve been trying to bring both clubs together as much as possible. Reinforce that we’re not rivals. Reassure everyone that the brotherhood is strong.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“You and Hope still want to stay the weekend?”
“If you’ll have us.”
“Fuck yeah. Lilly’s been looking forward to it.”
“See that story about the Senator?” he asks when we’re finished discussing club stuff. Secure lines or not he won’t get more detailed than that.
“Crazy shit, right?”
He laughs into the phone. “Crazier than you think. Two different political activist groups took credit for the bombing. Getting the corruption out of government is apparently trendy.”
Holy shit. I didn’t see that coming. “That’s interesting.” At least that will keep the investigators busy looking in the wrong direction for a while.
“Yeah, Hope said legally it’s brilliant. If either group ever goes to trial, instant reasonable doubt.”
Which I suppose also means if I ever go to trial for it, I’ll have a defense. Not that I’d use it. I have no problem with what I did. I can’t imagine any man or woman who cares about someone sending me to prison.
Nothing but the car bombing and the death of poor, crooked, and disgraced Senator Kelly has been on the news for the last twenty-four hours.
If only the world knew the full truth about what a piece of shit he was.
Luckily, we don’t watch the news all that much in the house. Lilly’s sort of strict about screen time for Chance. The times when the television is on, it’s usually tuned to something kid-appropriate.
After Chance goes to bed, I finally have a moment to ask her about her day.
“Nothing exciting, what with me being confined to the house and all.”
I suffer some guilt over that. How exactly can I explain she doesn’t have to worry anymore? I kinda figured I wouldn’t have to, that Mara would call Lilly to tell her the good news.
“Come here.”
I pull her to me so she’s straddling my lap and run my hands over her ass. I’m about to suggest Lilly come ride my cock in the hot tub when her p
hone pings.
She reaches over to grab it and slides out of my lap.
I use the time to check my own messages.
She gasps, pulling my attention to her.
“What?”
“Is this…was this…you?” She turns the phone my way and there’s a full-screen article about the bombing. Compete with photos of the charred and still-smoking Mercedes.
I shift from laid-back-at-home dad to cold, lethal biker, give her a blank stare and shrug.
“Z?” she demands.
“Could have been anyone. Two separate groups claimed responsibility.”
“But, Z—”
I launch myself at her, pushing her back against the couch cushions and press my finger to her lips. “Don’t ask questions I can’t answer, Lilly. Don’t force me to lie to you.”
