Page 9

Atlas

T yrant told me before I even hung up, that he wanted me to gather everyone right here, including my parents and my sister. After a long chunk of relative peace, enough shit has gone down with the club in the past few years that I could tell Tyrant wanted to go on the offensive. He won’t decide anything until he’s had time to think about it, and certainly not before he calls church,

The roar of the bikes fractures the silence long before they appear. We’re waiting on the top floor, as per Tyrant’s instructions, behind the steel door which is the only entrance. The front door is glass, and the big overhead roll up door could be pried up.

I was vague with my parents because I didn’t want them to panic. I asked them to come at eleven, knowing that Tyrant would be here by then. I want him to take the lead on this, not just because he’s my Prez, but because I’m in over my head. I also realize how stupid I was to leave my gun in the saddlebag of my bike yesterday. I have nothing now to keep us safe except a few knives from the block on the kitchen counter.

I’ve been sitting against Willa’s headboard, my arms wrapped around her like a safety blanket. She hasn’t moved since we came up here. She’s sat with her legs drawn up between mine, her arms wrapped around them.

We draw in long, twinned breaths of relief at hearing those bikes coming.

Now is definitely not the time. I was sitting here for over half an hour with her in my arms, but the words come to me at this very moment. I should swallow them down, but I can’t not tell her.

I brush a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, the highlights shimmering like pure gold in the sun coming through all the windows. It strikes me now how stupid it was to position us right beside one.

Fuck .

“It’s a dumb question to ask right at this moment, but are you okay? You look like you’re going to throw up.” I lean down to her, pressing our foreheads together. I cup the back of her head, splaying my fingers protectively over her hair.

“About this situation or about us? I’ve been telling myself lies for a year now, and I believed most of them. But I’m totally okay with what happened between us.”

I kiss her nose, her cheeks, her lips, then give her the full intensity and honesty of my eyes. “I need you to know that I’ll be at your side. This morning wasn’t a mistake.”

“I am scared though, about all this. I know after what happened last year with Lynette and your club’s old lawyer I should be used to trouble. But I didn’t expect it to come to my door.”

“I have every faith that my club will keep you, my family, and Agatha, safe,” I say. And I believe it.

“You’re going to have to teach me how to shoot. Bullet taught Lynette, and I know there’s no range, but I’m sure we can practice somewhere. Anyone gets between you and me, or anyone else I love, and I’m coming for them. I’d tear off their face with my teeth if I had to.”

She’s not kidding. Willa is different than any other woman I’ve ever known romantically. She’d guard and champion me. She’s fierce despite her sugar-sweet exterior. She’s more giving than she is for taking, relying on her own instincts to drive her happiness. She’d fight for me in every way.

Even ways she never imagined she’d have to.

I could tell her. I could open myself up and bleed myself dry and I know that whatever it was I said, she’d be right there with me.

I’m just… not ready.

She kisses me hard and rough before letting me go. The bikes are starting to roll into the parking lot.

I’m still reeling as we head downstairs and I open the glass front door for Tyrant, Raiden, Crow, and Gunner. They slip inside, their huge leather-clad bodies sucking all the oxygen out of the space. Willa relaxes a fraction behind me. She feels safer too now that my club brothers are here.

“You’d better show us this chest,” Tyrant states. “Are we the first ones here?”

“Yes. My parents are on their way.”

“Good. I have the start of a plan, but I want to run it by everyone together. Bullet and Lynette are driving over. They were five minutes behind us.”

There’s no way that Bullet would take Lynette on the back of his bike now that she’s pregnant. He’s a safe driver, but I know him, and he’s also thoughtful and extra cautious.

I’m locking up the front door when Lynette’s black sedan pulls up beside all the bikes. She’s driving, and she barely has the car off before she’s sprinting across the asphalt with Bullet right behind.

I whip the door open so she doesn’t go crashing through it. She wraps Willa in the tightest hug.

Willa tires to wriggle her way free while I clap Bullet on the shoulder. “This was unexpected,” he states flatly.

For a second, I think he’s giving me a funny look, but he’s not. He doesn’t mean me and Willa. He means the quarter million dollars or maybe more that we unearthed.

“Tyrant and the rest of the guys are in the back. The trunk’s near the loading door. I almost wish whoever it belonged to would jack the door up and come take it away.”

“Whoa, I’m okay,” Willa says behind us as Lynette tries to smother her. “We’re going to get this figured out.”

“Tyrant’s on it.” I try to be helpful, but that just makes Lynette frown at me. She’s every bit the tall, goddess ice queen, and right now, in her black blazer and skirt suit, she’s intimidating as fuck.

I have this feeling, deep down, that she never liked me. I hate the term, but I’m pretty sure she thinks that I’m a fuck boy. She doesn’t like her sister being so close with me. On the upside of that situation, she’s always assumed that we’ve been sleeping together. She’s never believed Willa’s denials, but to be fair, Willa always answers her questions with snark and a hint of mystery, which could only leave the impression that the situation was up for interpretation.

Bullet doesn’t have a kid sister who he raised like his own daughter to protect, which means that he’s always taken my denial of being anything more than friends as the honest truth.

While I’m debating silently whether he’ll try and castrate me when I tell him, my parents pull up.

Mom, Dad, and Georgia are mystified as to why they’re here. My mom’s expression is part hopeful and part worried, and for a moment I think she’s expecting me and Willa to make some kind of announcement about our relationship after last night’s dinner. One look at our faces and the fact my cub brothers are here, and the hope is replaced by concern.

“What’s going on, baby bro?” Georgia asks as she crosses her arms. “There’s a lot of bikes here.”

“Not many, really,” I counter. “But everyone’s in the back. You’ll find out right away.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble, son?” Dad rests his hand lightly on my shoulder. I surpassed him in height by the time I was fifteen, so he has to reach up quite a bit.

Mom bites down on her lip and clutches the strap of her purse tightly.

Willa’s already taken Lynette and Bullet to the back. My family is so innocent. Sweet. Civilians. They didn’t ask for any of this.

I remind myself that this didn’t happen because I patched into Satan’s Angels. They’re going to be safe because of my club. I could have handled their shame at me doing some below the belt shit, but I couldn’t stand bringing trouble to their doorstep.

So far, that hasn’t happened, even in the worst of times.

“I think that Tyrant should explain what’s happening. He wanted everyone together to hear it. It’s trouble, but not what you’re thinking, and we’ll all be okay. I promise.”

I’ve been making a lot of promises that I’ll do everything in my power to keep, but I know I shouldn’t keep uttering them when I have no real power to make them a reality.

Dad wraps his arm around mom’s waist and Georgia follows right behind me. She’s practically vibrating with all her questions but clamps down on them. She does look nervously from Tyrant to Raven, then from Gunner to Crow, and over to Bullet.

She grew up here, but she hasn’t been in Hart in quite a few years. Other than the cookout, this is the first time she’s been around my biker family. Anyone would be intimidated by these big, rough looking men and their club vests full of patches.

The trunk is already open. My parents gasp when they get a good look at what’s inside and Georgia groans.

“Wow,” she mutters darkly. “You were right about leaving the trunk, although I still think it’s pretty cool.”

“Is that… is that play money?” Mom asks, but she quickly shakes her head, laughing softly at herself. “No, of course it’s not. How much is that? Enough to buy a house?”

‘Enough to buy a house here in Hart and then some,” Tyrant confirms. “And whoever stashed it in that barn is going to be coming back for it. I’ll make this short and simple until I have a better idea of how it’s going to go. We need to go on the defensive. Instead of us trying to locate the owner of this… chest … we’ll make sure that we leave a trail they can follow. We’ll come to an agreement where they stay far away from Hart, and then we’ll return their money. We’re not going into lockdown again.”

“And if they don’t like that generous offer?” Crow asks darkly.

Scratch the fuck out of that, it’s not Crow. It’s Raven his borderline psychopathic alter ego. He rolls his neck to the side, cracking it like people warm up their knuckles before a fight. If there’s anything Raven loves, it’s his wife Tarynn, and a good beat down. If he’s doing the beating. And sometimes, I’m pretty sure, he even enjoys it if he’s the one taking it.

“That’s the only offer they get. However they got this money, it’s too close to our homes for comfort. How long is it before they bring their shit into Hart? Whatever it is that they’re selling, they’re not welcome here. Hart is ours .”

Raiden raises his voice in a rough shout of agreement and the other men all follow. I give a shout too but tone it down and edge closer to my parents, who are both trembling.

Lynette is standing by Willa, her arm wrapped around her shoulders, her hand stroking her hair over and over, though it appears involuntary. Willa lets her comfort her, though Willa’s stillness might be working the other way around, whether Lynette is aware of that dynamic or not.

“I’m sorry,” Tyrant says, turning to my family. “But until this is settled, you’re going to have to come to the clubhouse. It’s the only way we can keep you safe for certain. I understand this could disrupt your jobs, and one of our men would be happy to drive you to and from work each morning and ensure that you’re safe while you’re there. We’ll drive by your house too, to make certain it’s secure.”

Tyrant might be young, but he’s immediately captivating. He’s magnetic, but he has an immediate aura of trust and capability that sits like a mantle on his broad shoulders. He continues, “We’re not going on lockdown, but the option for families to come to the clubhouse for a few days is definitely there, or we’ll have men driving by or securing their homes and standing guard.”

“Does that include us?” Lynette asks, clearly meaning Willa and not Bullet. He already obviously will be at the clubhouse.

“I’m sorry, Willa. I know this will interrupt your business when you just opened, but you’re in the thick of this. We’ll move this to the clubhouse immediately and you should definitely come with us.”

Willa doesn’t groan about her business. She doesn’t try and make a plan up and fling it at Tyrant, begging him or acting petulant. “What about Agatha?” she asks, all her worry for that tiny old lady alone in her farmyard, completely vulnerable right now.

My heart twinges so hard that I just about beat it with my fist to get it working properly again, but a heady dose of pride accompanies the tightening. She cares.

Tyrant and Raiden exchange looks. “We think it’s best if we sent two bikes out with you when you drive there. Make a very obvious trail to follow.”

“Follow?” Mom gasps. “What if they ambush them along the way?”

“We could leave a note,” I suggest. “Take the cash out of the trunk and load it into the back of the truck and put it back in the barn. I believe that these people, or maybe it’s just one person, doesn’t want a confrontation. They want this to stay quiet. They’re probably trying to figure out right now how to get that money back if they’ve noticed it’s missing. We could leave the lock off the trunk but put it back exactly as we found it. Leave a phone number or something.”

“That’s a terrible plan,” Georgia groans.

“No.” A sick grin spreads over Raven’s face. “I like it. Leave mine.”

“I’d rather it be one of Wizard’s burners,” Tyrant says, but I can tell he likes the plan otherwise. “The rest makes sense.”

“How are you getting the trunk to the clubhouse?” Willa asks.

It’s a good question, given that everyone came here on bikes and there’s no way it would fit in my parents’ old car or in Lynette’s trunk.

“We’ll bring it,” she states. “In the truck. Atlas will drive and we’ll stuff it into the back seat. It’ll fit, if I put it up. Or we could stuff all the cash into a bunch of suitcases and divide it up between us.”

“No. We’ll do the suitcases and the trunk and take it all to the clubhouse, but there’s no way you’re riding with me for that. You can go with Lynette and Bullet, and my parents will follow you over to the clubhouse. Someone will go with them later to their house to help them pack.”

Willa’s lips thin out. It’s obvious that she hates that idea. Her eyes flash like she’s going to argue, but instead she shuts it down, glances once at Lynette, and nods.

“Okay. I’ll find the suitcases for you, and then I’ll pack a bag. The sooner we get to Agatha, the better. I’ll be fast.”

Tyrant and Raiden share another one of their secret, loaded looks. They have their own silent language, I swear. They’ve been friends since kindergarten and they’re closer than the twins, Grave and Decay. Those guys are meatheads, but Tyrant and Raiden have real working brains.

Tyrant gives me an unexpected nod of approval. What I just did is vastly out of character. I’m not the kind of guy who figures out a course of action. I’m content to sit back and let others in the club take the lead, as their rank denotes that they should. I’m a younger guy and I’ve always been okay with following orders. I might have had some ideas of my own in the past, but I never thought it was right to voice them.

“Assuming it’s a guy that this cash belongs to,” Willa mutters. “I’d really like to throat punch him when he arrives to collect it.”

Raven laughs way harder than he should. “I like you.”

The urge to throat punch him just grew exponentially.

“I hope that we can get this figured out within a few days and have everyone back to their lives.” Tyrant’s deep voice booms through the back bay. It’s like a call to action and everyone gets moving.

I’m torn between my club, my family, and Willa, but in the end, it’s my dad who gives me an encouraging nod, despite his pale, shell shocked expression. “Go help Willa. We’re fine.” He gathers my mom into his side and Georgia follows, huddling up with them. I hate that she’s shaking.

Whoever this fucker is, he came into our lives and terrorized my family. He endangered Willa, and he put my club in a tight, dangerous spot.

Throat punching him is just the beginning of what I’d like to do.