It didn’t matter to the club, but it had sparked interest from some other brothers. Living together at the clubhouse had its perks. For most of them, it was the first semblance of family they’d ever had. But others were growing restless, yearning for their own space. Cross hadn’t given it much thought until it was brought to the table. If being given a house and land was offered to Wraith, it should be available to everybody.
There were stipulations. Spreading the brothers throughout the town, for as big as it was, had a few on edge. It left membersvulnerable should there be an ambush or other attack. Part of the reason so many lived in the clubhouse was that they were stronger in numbers. Safety played a huge factor in the decision. Ultimately, the club found common ground.
There was about a hundred acres between the clubhouse and Grizz’s property. Killcreek would build within those parameters. It was enough for two streets and forty houses. It was safely nestled in the confines of Killcreek property and allowed enough privacy but closeness, if needed.
There’d only been three takers, as of now.
“I’m going to get a closer look.” Cleo rushed forward a few steps, then halted, turning back. Her smile slipped when she met his gaze. “Is it okay if I check it out?”
One of those takers had been Cross. He liked the idea of his own space. A separation from sharing a wall with Gent and his particular sexual fetishes. It hadn’t bothered him in the past, but as he inched toward forty, hearing a breathless woman screeching, ‘harder, daddy’ had lost its initial amusement.
“Yeah,” —he lifted his chin across the yard— “have at it.”
Cleo smiled and double-timed her steps across the paved road to his house. It wasn’t complete and wouldn’t be for the next few months. He’d insisted that another brother’s house be finished in time for when he came home. Jekyll, who was currently incarcerated, had also taken the offer. Cue was the third.
“Am I the only one who finds this fucking weird?” Oak laughed. “We’re gonna have a hidden neighborhood in the clubhouse’s backyard.”
The setup was unheard of, but the concept wasn’t original. Another club in the southern territory of the state had been the first to do it. They’d basically purchased all the land of the original birthplace of the Ghosttown Riders MC, and when they’d had enough to take over, they’d moved in. But there weredifferences. Ghosttown was a lot more civilized than Killcreek. They hadn’t ran off the people living in the town. Their members lived among the residents. They had a main street with retail stores, owned and operated by outsiders. From his understanding, they’d made it work.
But Killcreek isn’t Ghosttown.The members, the clubs, their lives were very different. The last he’d heard, Ghosttown Riders had become ninety-five percent legit. That would never be Killcreek. It wasn’t their way of life, and they didn’t want that.
“Yeah, you’re the only one who thinks it’s fucking weird,” Cue said.
Gent chuckled, sidling up next to Cross. “Leaving a lot next to yours open. That for me, brother?”
“Not on your fucking life, asshole.”
They’d had the sewer system done for the area and divided the land into an acre and a half lots. Instead of scattering the new builds, they lined them up for anyone who wanted it. Cue was the first on the street, then Cross with one empty beside him, and Jekyll being the fourth. Hyde hadn’t expressed any interest, but it was a club decision to leave it open for him. The cousins had always been extremely close and grown up their whole lives together. One would think they’d yearn for some separation. Not Hyde and Jekyll.
“Well, I’ll visit,” Gent said.
Cross scoffed and twisted his lips. “The fuck you will. Your psychotic ass won’t step foot in my place. I’ll see you at the clubhouse. That’s plenty for me.”
Gent laughed, slapping his back. “We’ll see about that.”
Cross ignored the brother and walked through the leveled dirt onto the road a few feet from his house. Most of the exterior had been done, and the plumbing and electricity was installed. But the interior was still bare bones. Until Jekyll’s house was done, it would stay that way.
“Surprised Ghost didn’t jump on this. That solitary little fuck,” Gent said.
Cue shook his head. “He won’t give up the roof.”
Oak snorted. “Who the fuck gives a shit about sitting on a roof?”
“Ghost,” Cue said and arched his brow. “Cleo.”
It was true. The brother would spend hours up there. Alone. But Cleo was known to join him occasionally.
“Speaking of, anything new from Cleo’spen pal?” Gent asked.
Cross stiffened, keeping his eyes locked on the construction space. He’d always had a physical reaction to the woman he’d never met. Tension rose high when the subject was brought up, especially for him.
The inquiry came out of the blue, but it had been a frequent invasion in Cross’s mind for the last nine months. Since the discovery of the correspondence between Knox’s sister and the woman who’d gotten his heart came to light, the club as a whole had been slightly on edge. They’d done their due diligence. Cypher had done a complete investigation on Addison Huxley’s life, her connections, and any possible threat to the club. Or Cleo. He found nothing.
By all accounts, Addison was a civilian with zero ties to their world. Except for having Knox’s heart. She lived several states away. Aside from keeping in touch with Cleo, there were no connections. And nothing to be concerned about according to Ace.
Cross was still coming to terms with the news. Knox, who shared almost everything with Cross, had never mentioned being an organ donor. Then again, did anyone as young as Knox in healthy condition consider death often?
Cypher side-eyed Wraith, and the brother gave a curt nod. Permission.
