Page 30

Puck

AP and Cam were already in the chapel. The others filed in not long after. The older man looked at me, nodding his head to tell me to carry on.

“We sure that little fuck is on our side here?” I asked, looking from Cam to Jester. “Because as we left Fall Fest last night, a horde of peckerwoods cornered Kenna at my truck. Giving her major shit, threatening her, all in defense of Ghost’s bruised ego.”

Cam flicked a quick glance at me. “She okay?”

“Yeah, gave as good as she got.”

“That the reason you got the busted knuckles?” Merc nodded to where my hand rested on the table.

I nodded, my mouth tight.

“Little brother says it was five to one before he ran up on it.” Jester grinned, pride puffing his chest out.

“He swings that fucking helmet like Babe Ruth.” The kid was barely old enough to drink but handled himself better than most grown men I knew.

“Too bad he doesn’t want the patch.” Cam kicked back in his chair. We all knew Jester’s baby brother had a thing for crotch rockets. “As for Ghost, I think he’s too scared to pull some shit like that. Let’s hear him out.”

“I wouldn’t blame him if he did run his mouth, especially if Puck is out with his girl.” AP shrugged.

“She’s not his girl.” I leveled a challenging glare at our president.

I liked AP, but I was about tired of this shit.

Anger flashed hot and blistered against my ribcage.

“She went through some shit the other night, got kicked out of David’s house.

That Nadine bitch is giving her one hell of a hard time. ”

AP winced. My dart hit the bullseye. He had a soft spot for Kenna, being one of his daughter’s best friends.

“She got a place to crash?” Jester seemed genuinely concerned for a few seconds, before his nostrils flared and he grinned. “Always got room at Casa Vaughn.”

I sliced him a hard look, and he backed down with a bemused grin.

“You gonna grill the probie?” AP kept us on track.

“Someone needs to.” But I wanted the satisfaction of pounding my fist into his face first.

“We all don’t need to go,” Cam pointed out.

“And I need to get back to work.” Jester was happy to be relieved of this burden.

Drop Top mumbled similar remarks.

“Jester, tell him to meet me at Lawnmower Jay’s barn in an hour.” Cam glanced at me. “We can take one of the old vans from the building. Ditch the cuts. Figure if we come that close, load up something, nobody will notice.”

We left our cuts at the clubhouse, got one of Jester’s old install vans fired up, and drove out to the Bends. The place was a conglomeration of trailers and busted up old shacks that lined the dry riverbed. The sort of place where dreams and ambition died.

Cam got out first, shaking the hand of the little dude who spoke with a lisp, walked with a limp, and carried on a conversation like a child.

Lawnmower Jay. I’d seen him around, knew Cam got information out of him sometimes but never had any interaction with him.

He was a squirrely guy who always seemed too nervous for my liking.

Cam slipped him some money, and he ran toward the back of the van carrying two weed eaters.

“My yard is fucking cacti and rocks, brother, but I got enough equipment to start a lawn care company.” He looked back at the guy fondly.

“Used to be a smart as fuck mechanic. Put together an entire bike by himself when he was in middle school. Would ride it to school and park in between the buses. Then some asshole cracked him over the skull, changed his entire life.”

“Damn.” I cringed at the thought. “Hope the fucker got what he deserved.”

“He did.” Cam lit a cigarette and strolled toward the barn, his demeanor telling me he’d made sure of it. “We got about twenty minutes.”

A skinny guy in a dark hoodie clung to the shadows behind an old, broken-down tractor.

“Did they hurt her?” Ghost’s expression was half frantic, half concern.

Whatever control I’d had talking to David snapped. I grabbed him by the front of that hoodie and slammed him against the wall of the barn. Pieces of rotting wood exploded into splinters around us. I ignored the pungent scent of decay.

“If they did, I’d fucking kill you.”

He thrashed in my arms, his right foot connecting with my shin. “Let me go, you fucking ape. Stop acting like you care. She’s just a hot piece of snatch from the Bends for you to throw away like you did Jessica.”

It wasn’t anger that gripped me by the throat but white-hot rage, like I’d swallowed fiery swords. He didn’t know shit about me, about Kenna, and damn sure not about the fucking shit my baby’s mama put me through.

Like the little snake he was, Ghost lashed out with a real kick and caught me on the side of my knee. I swayed, but fury kept me upright. I stumbled back, then clocked him in his right eye with a left cross. His hood went back, and he went down hard.

On my knees on top of him, I hammered him with two more punches, remembering the fear in my gut as I charged up those stairs in the frat house after Kenna. Or the way the parking lot at the Fall Fest had seemed impossibly long, like I might never get to her.

All of it, his fault.

A hard tug on my shirt jerked me back on my ass in the dirt. Before I could jump up, Cam was between us. “Enough.”

One word. Not shouted but not quiet either.

The command rumbled through the barn, reminding me that if I moved for Ghost again, I could lose the patch.

Or worse, find myself fighting Cam. Like when I played, I listened to the captain—I stood slowly now, dusting myself off and taking my orders from Cam.

“You obviously know why we’re here.” He zeroed in on Ghost, who spat blood in the dirt as he stood. “What happened?”

“I didn’t say shit.” He stood, snarled at me with blood in his teeth.

“Except what you told me. You killed Preach, and he stole my girl. All that shit. JoJo is just trying to prove himself now that Jerry Wayne is taking over Wanda’s distribution.

Take out a King, make him look good. Kenna was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he used it as an excuse. ”

Cam lifted his brow. “Jerry Wayne cooking meth?”

“Not yet, just moving it. Wanda’s still got the strangle hold on ingredient suppliers. It’s why he’s all up her ass. But he made some deal with a big fentanyl guy, moving it across the desert from Cali sometime this month. That should give him enough money to buy favor with Wanda’s people.”

He turned fully to me, ignoring Cam now. “Listen, I don’t care who Kenna is with so long as she’s happy. I damn sure don’t want her hurt.”

“And yet it keeps happening—because of you.”

His body sagged, and he dropped his gaze. “Just keep her safe. Jerry Wayne is sniffing around for information on you, on your kid. That shit’s going to come back on her if you don’t watch it.”

I straightened, itching to go at him again. “I can take care of mine. Hell, I was better at keeping her safe than you were when she was with you.”

Before he could respond, Cam silenced him with a hard look. “Email Jester everything you’ve got on Jerry Wayne. I want labs, cars, whatever you’ve got.” We made it to the opening of the barn before he spun around again. “Who drives the black Challenger?”

“Jerry Wayne’s kid.” Ghost wiped blood from his rapidly swelling face. “Harlan. Real sketchy fucker. Wasn’t raised out here, came when his dad got out. Shacked up with your ex right now.”

Her stepbrother. Didn’t surprise me. Jerry Wayne was fucked like that. Probably thought it made her legitimate family now.

I fought back the sickness in my gut. He better stay far away from my kid.

“Text Jester’s burner his address and let us know as soon as you have a date for that run.” And with that, Cam was out in the sunshine, grinning and teasing the Lawnmower Jay like I hadn’t just beat a guy’s ass in his barn.

“What do I say about this?” He gestured to his bloody face.

Cam tossed him a twenty. “Go to the cafe, have a slice of pie. Then tell them when you see them, you ran into Kenna’s ole man. He’s already fucked a few of them up. It’ll be believable, and Ro will back it if anyone asks.”

Ghost nodded and ducked back into the shadows of the barn as I followed Cam out. He moved like he wasn’t in any hurry but still ate up the gravel until we got out of earshot of Ghost and Lawnmower Jay.

“Brother…” Cam drawled the word and followed it up with a pissed off half-laugh. “Get your shit together. You owe Jay for the busted shit in the barn.”

“Tell him to bill me.” I sighed, because he had stopped to study me, like he couldn’t decide if I was serious. “You weren’t there, didn’t see...” Anger clenched my jaw so tight the words came out more of a growl. Not just the Fall Fest, but memories of the frat house after the Desert Lights rave.

Cam lit a cigarette, took a slow drag, let it out, and brought his gaze to mine.

There were times the pretty boy could look as innocent as his girl, times he could look god-damned feral—like that day she left with Preacher.

Then there were times he looked so fucking mean even a rattlesnake would duck for cover.

“You don’t want the world thinking she’s a pass around, stop making her one. ”

Were the hood of the van not between us, I’d have swung on him.

“Piss you off? Good. Because she was his. Then you and Jester have her off in a room together, she’s living in the apartment above your shop, and you’re all over her at the clubhouse.

Now, you’re taking her out on dates. Make it legit, make it real, or stop acting like a rutting bull and punching everyone who calls a spade a fucking spade. ”

Rage distorted my vision into bright flashes of white, blocking out everything. I backed it down. Kicking Cam’s ass would cost me my patch.

But worse, he was right. And out of any of us, he’s the one who would know what this felt like. He’d fought me like a wild man over Riley.

“Wife that shit up, Puck.” Cam smacked the hood and opened the driver’s door. “And go compensate Jay so we can get the fuck out of here.”

***

“I guess I’ll be working all night.” Jester complained as we walked in, his glare aimed at Cam for calling everyone back to the clubhouse.

“Get that address from Ghost?” Cam ignored the bitching and moaning.

“Yeah.” He leaned against the bar.

The clubhouse was empty, save for the table, making the privacy of the chapel unnecessary.

“Driver of the black Challenger from the night Chop got jumped is Jerry Wayne’s kid, Harlan. That address is where we’ll find him.”

AP stood and stretched, wincing a little. “What are we going to do about it? I’m guessing you’ve already got an idea, since we’re all here.”

Cam’s grin was wide and mean. “Ivan’s riding up for the vote, patching over…lets get Gunnar to come up early too.”

Gunnar Waite would take over as White Pines president when Ivan joined us.

Kicked back in the closest booth, Drop Top crinkled up his ugly face and smiled for what felt like the first time. “If you can make it happen, I like where your head is at.”

As Cam told us, I couldn’t help but laugh. The dude was a menace if you gave him enough time to think. Apparently, the ride over had been enough time. Beating Jerry Wayne at his own game was one thing, rubbing his face in shit for the hell of it was another.

“Get some of the guys together,” AP directed Merc and me after Cam relayed the rest of what Ghost had said. “When they make that fentanyl run, I want it disrupted. Use Gunnar as a distraction.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Cam turned around to leave. “Now that I’ve wasted my day with you fucks, I’m going to go get laid.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you,” Jester drawled as he stood. “Because unless the current client gets real cool about shit, real fast, it ain’t happening for me.”

Everyone rolled out together, like we hadn’t just plotted to dismantle a redneck drug operation. We’d done worse, I supposed. And I still had time to run home and hang out with the kid before going to work. And maybe I’d see Kenna.

That idea left me lighter than I’d been all day. Cam had told me to make it official, and fuck if I didn’t want to.

But what about her?