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Omen jabs me in the ribs and snorts out a laugh. “Careful, brother, anyone would think you want us to know.”
I turn to him and raise my brow. “Huh? Want you to know what?”
“That you wanna dive over this table and fuck Maxxy on top of Lani’s kalua pig. Gives new meaning to porking her, am I right?”
Rolling my eyes, I punch Omen in the arm, grab my beer, and take a long drink. Hurricane picks up the pair of tongs and positions the first piece of pig on his plate, then he places his hand on Imogen’s head and smiles. “As this is Imogen’s first Christmas, she is, of course, in New Awlins, so she is gettin’ the best of our culture. But, I want her to grow up gettin’ to know theotherside of her culture. And at Christmas time in Hawaii, Sha has taught me this to say to Immy on her first Christmas…” he turns to his daughter and leans down, his eyes meeting hers. Her little hand comes up and smacks at his bearded face happily while Kaia’s eyes well with tears. “Mele Kalikimaka me ka Hau'oli Makahiki Hou,” He pronounces every syllable perfectly like he has been practicing those few words for weeks.
He glances at Kaia, and she nods as he takes a deep breath like he’s relieved. Then he leans in, pressing his lips to Imogen’s forehead. “I love you, baby girl.”
We all clap and cheer for our president as Kaia moves in, kissing him.
Hurricane pulls back and nods. “All right, let’s get this lunch started,” he states, moving to dish out the meat when a loud buzzing blares from the alarm system. It makes us all jerk our heads up, my stomach tightening in anxiety immediately at the proximity alarm sounding around the clubhouse.
Someone has broken the boundaries and entered the perimeter without our permission.
Fuck!
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hoodoo
All the brothers stand, drawing their guns out of their holsters, waiting for Raid to see where the breach is coming from. My anxiety skyrockets as I check the windows, waiting for something, anything, to break through them.
“Raid, you better hurry the fuck up!” Hurricane growls the words as Raid searches through the camera feeds to check where the break-in has occurred.
Jesse and City shake their heads. “I don’t like this. We’re sitting ducks. I’m gonna check the door,” Jesse states.
“I’m gonna head out back,” City follows with, and I move to the windows, keeping low in case someone has sights targeted through the damn glass.
“I don’t see anyone in the yard, Pres,” I call out.
“Will someone tell me what thefuckis triggerin’ the alert,” Hurricane yells, clear agitation in his tone.
Raid exhales, scrubbing at his beard, then widens his eyes in realization. “We’re not looking high enough,” he mumbles to no one in particular while typing something into his device. I watch as the cameras outside shift, angling upward. I follow their line of sight and spot it at the same time Raid does.
“There’s a fucking drone outside,” Raid yells before I get a chance to.
Grabbing my gun, I spin it, using the butt to break a glass pane of the window. Then I click off the safety and aim it directly at the drone, firing off two rounds in quick succession. My gun recoils in my hands, but the bullets hit the drone precisely where needed. It dives through the air and hits the ground at a fast speed, breaking into parts as it collides with the concrete.
“Got it, Pres. I can’t see any detonation devices attached, but I also can’t be one hundred percent sure, either,” I tell him.
Hurricane growls, moving to head outside, and Kaia reaches for his hand, stopping him. “You’re a father now. You have to think like one,” she begs, and he hesitates.
Gritting my teeth, I glance back, seeing Izzy staring at City like she doesn’t want him to head out there either. Lani has the same sad eyes for Grit, and Novah clings to Bayou like her life depends on it.
My eyes shift to Maxxy, where she is standing, clear concern in her expression, but I push it aside as I rush for the door and pull it open.
“Hoodoo!” Hurricane calls out.
I turn back in the doorway and look at him, raising a brow.
“Be the fuck careful. You’re the medic. If you get hurt, we won’t know how to help you.”
Craning my neck to the side to help relieve the pressure, all that shit does is make me more nervous, but I step out anyway. The broken drone is scattered on the concrete, so I cautiously approach. I walk over to it somewhat warily and make a visual assessment. There are no obvious explosive attachments, so I squat down and pick up what appears to be a hinge on top of the smashed drone. I pull it back—a piece of paper is attached, so I flick it open to a typed note.
We haven’t forgotten what you did to us at our campsite.
You destroyed our homes with our children watching.
