Page 4

I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I know I don’t like it. Someone comes into my house and pulls a gun on one of my own? Granted, it’s just Emily, and she’s been a fucking nuisance since she got here, but she matters to General. Unspoken rule in the club: if someone matters to a brother, then they matter to all brothers. In reason, of course. But a family member especially. Even if they’re a giant pain in the ass.

“I said, drop the gun and back up.”

Wendi—or whoever this is in front of me—cocks her head one way as her hip goes the other. She doesn’t speak right away, just raises her eyebrows at me before rolling her eyes. “Look with your eyes, dummy. The gun is not in her face. And I can’t back up or I would hit her, and I can’t take a step forward unless you want to put your own gun down first.”

Who is this girl? Her split personality is giving me a headache.

“You need help, boss?” I recognize Walker’s voice but don’t look at our newest member. Not stupid. I’ve looked down the end of a scope long enough to know you keep your eyes on the threat.

“No problem here,” she says a second before she pushes my arm up and sweeps her leg out. She catches me as I go down, just as she takes my gun out of my hand and aims it at me. Not sure when she had time to stash her own gun, or how the hell she got the drop on me. One moment I was in control, and now I’m not.

I watch Walker pull a gun and aim it at Wendi, only to have Abigail pull her own and put it right to Walker’s head.

“Okay, I think we all need to just relax before we have some problems,” Wendi says as she keeps my gun leveled on me but looks around at the others.

Her sister seems bored and is leaning against the wall by Emily. The gun in her hand is down by her side, and I know she’s only there to block Emily from leaving. Or maybe she really is just bored with all of this. I don’t know which way is up right now, and I couldn’t be more pissed if I tried.

“Try not pointing the gun at the president of my club and we won’t have a problem.” Walker doesn’t seem fazed at all about the gun to his temple, and I appreciate that in the man. God knows I’ve had my fair share of guns to my head, but I didn’t know if he had. This proves his past is probably just as fucked up as mine, and he’s still lived to tell the tale.

“Fair.” Wendi uncocks the gun, pulls the clip out, and dislodges the bullet in the chamber before dropping the empty stock on the ground by me. Then she moves to her car that’s a few feet away, taking the clip and bullet with her.

Walker keeps his aim on her as she walks. Penny follows, but Abigail takes another beat before also pulling her gun from his head and trailing after the other two.

“Boss.”

His aim is still on the girls, and I recover quickly from the ground. I take the other gun out of my ankle holster before I tap him on the shoulder, and we move as a unit closer to them. Not that they seem to care.

Abigail is on her phone. Penny has her arms crossed in front of her silly tutu, leaning back on the side of the SUV. Wendi is pulling yet another gun out, this one from the glove box. She checks it before I watch her put it in the thigh holster I had no clue she had under her dress.

Fucking hell. We need a fucking TSA screening booth for anyone coming into this place.

“Bob’s Place is south of here, about fifty-three miles. It opens at 4:00 p.m. and closes at 2:00 a.m. Owner is a Caucasian woman in her seventies. Took it over from her father about sixteen years ago when he passed and left it to her. No police reports of assault or anything in the last forty-eight hours,” Wendi states.

Walker looks over at me. I lower my weapon first, and he follows. If they aren’t pulling one on me, no reason to do the same. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to stick around and find out what the fuck is going on. This is my place, after all.

“Why does that matter?” I ask, but it goes unanswered.

Wendi ignores me as if I wasn’t standing there and looks at Abigail instead. “You see what time she got in yesterday morning?”

“7:32 a.m.”

I arch a brow at Abigail and really look at someone I never thought much about before. Her brother was in the club, or at least he wanted to be so bad that he hung around long enough until the club adopted him. But he didn’t want to patch in officially till after he served in the military. No one faulted him for it. Hell, he was the one who introduced me to the club idea. Till he went and got killed for not listening to orders. But that’s a guilt trip for another day.

Abigail is my problem today, and I’m running through all the shit she could have witnessed over the years when we gave her the open-door policy out of respect for her brother’s passing. She never spent much time at the club unless Ruby was around. Don’t think any brother ever saw her as a threat. And while the boys know when to keep their mouth shut about club business, talk still happens. If a brother feels like he’s in a room that he can trust people in, there’s no telling what will come out of their mouth. And Abigail has a way of blending in with the walls. Not that she ain’t pretty in her own right, but she just doesn’t stand out, and with her meek ways, she never would.

Until today. Pulling a gun on a brother without flinching and now giving details that only a person clocking what went on at the clubhouse would know has me worried. I don’t even recall if Abigail was at the club this morning, or when she arrived. Just knew she was there.

“Weather in that area?” Wendi turns to Penny, who shrugs.

“Rain fell in scattered spots, but mostly up north. It’s possible it passed that area. What do you want to do, boss?”

Boss? Not sis or Wendi? What the ever-loving fuck is going on?

I watch, maybe a bit more intently than I should, as Wendi drags her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth. She’s thinking hard, looking at nothing and no one as she runs through what to do next. What’s the calculated risk they need? If they’re worried about the weather, they’re worried about something washing away. But what? And what does General’s niece have to do with this?

“Go.”

One word from her and the others are stomping to, like any good soldier would do. Walker and I take two steps back as they come closer to us, but we don’t point our weapons again, as they just round the vehicle and open the back door.

I keep it together and don’t let my surprise show as I watch Abigail pull up the bed lining and enter a code in a panel. It clicks, and she opens up a freaking gun safe. And not only guns. Knives, surveillance gear, and I think I see three bombs stashed in their own compartment. There’s a damn arsenal in the car.

I look at Walker and see he’s not even hiding his shock as his mouth hangs open wide. Not sure if it’s from the small-arms deal in the back of the SUV or that Penny is stripping. The tutu she had on is the first to go, followed quickly by the long orange skirt. She pulls the green jersey over her head a second later. In the blink of an eye, the crazy girl in god-awful colors and elaborate outfits is standing practically naked, wearing just tight black biker shorts and a bra. And her body is something I would normally look twice at any other day. Toned, flat, and fit. She’d give a vamp a run for her money any day of the week. If we paid vamps. And if Penny walked around like this—and who knows what will happen after today, as nuts as it’s been—more than one brother would call dibs.

It’s only when she turns that I hear anything from Walker since he spoke that first time. His soft curses at seeing her beautiful skin marred at the back is something else. The brutal torture she must have endured to get the lines to flow from the top of her shoulders down to below her biker shorts.

My eyes wander to find Wendi watching me. Not sure what she sees or is looking for, but we hold each other’s stares for quite a while before I break the silence.

“She the fallen bird or the mistake?” I throw her sad tale in her face from earlier. Thought she was talking in reality, but what the hell do I know anymore?

I’ve been lied to. Had a gun pulled on me. Let danger into my family’s house by asking these people here. I might not be jumping in and taking them down, but my silence doesn’t mean I’m docile. I’m a fucking lion, waiting and watching. Prepping for the moment I attack.

To her credit, she doesn’t shy away from my question. But her answer is shit. “You have no idea.”

She looks back at the girls, and I do the same. Penny laces up her boots again now that she has skintight leather pants and a black fitted tee on. She stands upright for a second before she grabs the front of her hair and pulls it off.

“Oh, come on,” I growl. Not even her shoulder-length light brown hair was hers; long dark locks flow down her back now. Everything about her was fake. The club got played hard, and I was no exception.

Penny smirks at me before she pulls shit from the arsenal and stashes it on her body. Knives get twirled for a second before she puts one in her boot holder and the other on her thigh. No clue if she’s showing off or just doing it out of habit. I do the same thing, like many of the brothers, but it’s a habit formed. And the way she’s handling herself, I’ve got half a mind to think it’s the same for her too.

“Rue, get her wheels,” Wendi says as she steps up to the back of the SUV, pulls out a shotgun, and starts loading it.

Abigail—or Rue, I guess—takes off toward the clubhouse, and Walker turns to me, probably wondering if someone should go with her or stay here where we know the weapons are.

“Where’s she going?” I bark.

“To get a ride, ghost boy. You deaf or something?” Penny asks as she pulls another gun and checks it before shoving it into a holster.

Okay, so they aren’t even pretending anymore or hiding what’s going on. In the past, when I faced an enemy like this, it was because they thought they had all the cards. Usually they did, and I was surrounded. But I survived that. Not sure if I’ll survive this. I feel like that fucking girl who went down the rabbit hole, and everything is so mixed up. Right now, I count three against the entire club. But I’ve learned a lot in the last ten minutes. Mostly that I don’t know shit, apparently.

Rue runs back to us, whistling a tune before throwing keys at Wendi, who catches them easily. But she isn’t alone when she returns. I see a couple of brothers walking our way from the main door that Rue flew out of five seconds ago.

They take in Penny’s appearance, then notice me and Walker standing a few feet away. Not sure if they can see what’s in the back of the SUV or not, but the complete 180 from Penny is enough to cause a stir.

I catch their eyes and shake my head slowly. Don’t need any fast draws pulling their guns right now. We might not be at the O.K. Corral, but with the amount of ammo they have close to them, the club would take a major hit if a fight broke out.

Atom pulls Domino to a stop a few paces back, and they just watch for a second before Domino pulls out a phone and starts texting. It’s subtle, but no doubt these girls know it’s happening. Or they should know that at least someone is watching. The club might not get everything right, but we do surveillance well. Or we did. Not sure why half the damn club ain’t headed this way, unless they messed with the feeds and no one inside knows what’s going on.

“Which one is this?” Wendi asks Rue before handing the keys to Penny, who’s finished strapping on her weapons.

“Echo,” Rue supplies as she takes a gun of her own from the back of the car before locking the small armory away. “Charlie’s leaking oil, and Delta went out last night, so the tank is too low to go far.” She finishes with a finality by closing the back door.

“Right.” Wendi looks to Penny. “Don’t get cocky. You’re to only do recon, nothing more.”

Penny grins and tilts her head. “Yeah, sure, boss.”

“I’m serious, Jack. You see something, you note it and report back. I won’t have another neighbor’s dog incident on my hands.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it, boss.” She rolls her eyes, but I guess it’s enough for Wendi, as she nods at her antics.

“Let’s move.”

As a unit, they each draw a weapon and start marching forward. We pull our own guns as well and follow, but since no one is doing much but walking, we stay with them.

“What the hell is going on, Prez?” Atom asks as he tries to cut them off, but when Wendi racks the shotgun she has on him, he backs up.

“Not sure. Where the hell is everyone?”

Domino shakes his head. “No one knew. Never got notified of any activity out front. We only came out for a smoke so Maddy didn’t see.” Mama Bear’s been trying to get the club to stop smoking one biker at a time. With the number of kids we’ve got around, it might not be a bad idea.

The girls don’t hide who they are as they move like a well-oiled tactical machine toward Domino’s motorcycle that’s parked nearby. They only stop once Penny climbs on and starts it up with the key in her hand.

“What the fuck?” Domino steps forward, but Rue shoots in front of his foot, and he jumps back.

I would have had the same reaction if they went to my ride and started it up like they owned it. But I know they don’t have my key. At least I don’t think they do. Domino is like all the brothers, pretty territorial when it comes to his bike. He’d never be the kind to leave a spare key lying around. Which just makes this all the more fucked up. If they have spare keys, can walk around with weapons going unchecked, and hide who they are, then what else can they do? Or have done?

“Don’t worry, sweetie. She’s in excellent hands.” Penny backs the bike up and blows him a kiss before she speeds out and away.

“Walker” is all I have to say. He and Atom jump on their own bikes, riding after her.

I’m beyond pissed. And so is Domino. No one takes a guy’s bike—no one—unless it’s offered. Even then, it’s rare.

One thing that damn bullet to the ground and the roaring engine seemed to do was alert everyone else to what the fuck is going on. My brothers soon cover the front, guns pointed at the two remaining girls.

“Now, you are going to tell me what the fuck is going on, and you are going to do it now. Or this is about to get ugly for the both of you,” I growl.

Wendi props the barrel of her shotgun on her shoulder and matches my stare with her own. “Actually, you are going to do the talking. And if you’re smart, you’re going to put this place on lockdown till my sister gets back. Then, and only then, will I answer your questions. The ones I want to, that is.”

“What makes you think you’ve got a say in any of this shit, sweetheart?” Gator asks with his own smirk.

“I’m with the Crazy Eights, and I’m here to collect on what the club owes.”