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I let out a groan of frustration when my cell began to ring.
“Don’t answer that.” She whispered as she pressed her forehead to my chest.
“It’s just a phone call, baby,” I said softly as I put my arms around her.
“It’s never just a phone call, Kid.” She sighed. Then Liddy pulled away from me and went into the bedroom to change.
“Kid.”
“Who the fuck else would it be?” I growled into the phone because…cock-blocker.
But there was something in that brief second when my dad spoke my name that gave me pause. It was that small inflection in his tone that seemed both foreign and familiar to me. And now there was this hesitancy…this pregnant pause that made me think that old fucker might be smiling. It took me a second to put it all together. The wordsatisfactioncame to mind.
“Dad?” I tried and failed to keep the hope out of my voice.
“We got them.”
We got them.
Those three little words changed me in an instant. I went from a very mellow and sated Bruce Banner to the fury-filled Incredible Hulk. My muscles flexed while the adrenalin and cortisol coursed through my body at an agonizing rate. The pain that had fed me, walked with me, consumed me, and had driven my every action since Rudy’s death hit me like a thousand bullets.
“I’m on my way.”
“Honey?” I could barely hear her above the sound of the blood as it crashed and pounded through my veins until it finally pooled in my fists.
“Kid?” The voice was closer now.
“KID, NO!” Liddy jumped back and put her hands up in a defensive position to shield herself from me.
“Goddamn it, Liddy. You don’t sneak up on a man like that!” I shouted at her and realized how dangerously close I had just come to decking her out on the floor.
“Jesus, Kid.” Liddy took a step back before she took two more forward. She wrapped her cool, soft hand around my hard, heated fist. “What is it? What’s happening?”
“I’m an asshole. I will spend the rest of my life making that up to you,” I said—and I meant it. A feeling that I thought might be shame filled me. I couldn’t believe she was still standing there. “I would never, ever lay a hand on you, you know that right?”
“Of course, I know that. Now tell me what’s going on.” She dropped my hand then and stood squarely on her feet as if bracing herself for what was to come.
I pushed the speedometer on my Harley to 100 mph, and even though it was just minutes away, it still took me too damn long to get to my father’s house. The security gate opened just as I approached it and that was probably a good thing given the mph. Deke met me at the door and held out a shot of whiskey to me which I downed on the spot. Then without a word he led me inside the house. I stopped short when I saw Jet Mathison sitting at my dad’s table.
“Good to see you, brother.” He greeted me with a hard clap on the back.
“Always an honor, man.”
Hell Saints MC was a cut above all other clubs, including ours. It had reached the gold standard. The Saints had chapters across the globe and tight alliances that extended to politicians, federal law enforcement, and both the Russian and Italian mobs. Jet Mathison had taken over as head of the whole shebang when, in an unprecedented move, PJ McCabe had stepped down from the position of national president. The whole transfer of power thing could have been a giant shit show and a chance for the other clubs to lodge a full takedown. But Jet, with the support of his father and uncles, had made sure as hell that didn’t happen. It had taken a few snapped spines and spilled blood along the way, but that was to be expected. If anything the Saints were in an even stronger position after the shift, and as time went on that strength only increased.
Respect.
There was a lot of history between the Silver Sinners and the Hell Saints, and although there were some differences along the way that alliance stayed strong. There was even a point when there was talk about the Silver Sinners patching over and consolidating the two clubs. But then a bunch of shit went down with the Sinners that made that merging impossible. By the time my dad had cleaned it up the offer had passed. Both clubs still remained tight, and we all benefited from the business dealings that we shared in.
My father poured out three cups of strong black coffee and left the pot on the table. I lit a smoke and forced myself to wait longer for the information that I had already waited too damn long for. My hand shook as I put the cup to my mouth. Deke put a hard hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I felt his steel strength pass through me, and it helped me straighten my spine for what was going to come next.
Jet reached for a manila envelope that was sitting on the table.
“That the ink?” He threw a large close-up of a tattooed hand on the table. He tapped hard on the photograph.
I looked at the set of curved horns intertwined with the letters HD written in script.
I nodded. Then I looked at the rest of the pictures, but the fucker in the photo got harder and harder to recognize with all the blood and twisted body parts. Whoever had been working this prick over had been a very busy guy.
