Page 24

EVEREST

The light cutting through the curtains is dull and gray, filtered by storm clouds hanging low in the sky.

Fitting for the shitstorm circling us. I’ve been lying awake for a couple of hours, the weight of the past few days pressing heavily on my chest. I look to my left, where London is curled on her side, one bare leg half tangled in the sheet, with her long dark hair a mess on the pillow. Peaceful. Safe. For now.

We’re on lockdown, thanks to Velasco. Not the one we buried a few years back, but his son.

The one who decided to crawl out of whatever hole he’d been hiding in to make us pay for the blood we spilled.

And if there’s one thing I know, it is that people seeking revenge don’t care about right or wrong.

Organizations like Velasco’s care about legacy and power.

This new blood is looking to restore what was lost. And now that we know the pusher who tried to take London was connected to Velasco, it’s all starting to stack up.

But something tells me it’s not that simple.

This young woman London worked with at the club, Amara, is the reason my woman went snooping around in the first place.

So, there was no connection between London being taken and the Velasco shit.

Rollins’ interest in my woman was purely his own.

The two separate situations just happened to intertwine.

I stare at the ceiling, piecing it all together again like a damn crime board. Now, not only do we have a target on our backs, with Velasco wanting us out of the picture, but this young woman, Amara, is still missing.

London stirs, and a wispy breath slips past her lips. Her eyes open. “Hey,” she murmurs.

“Sleep all right?”

London stretches. “As well as I can.”

I nod and slide up to lean against the headboard.

“You didn’t sleep?” London eyes me.

“Not much. Been thinkin’.”

“About?”

“Everything. The person who hurt you, the trouble haunting the club, us,” I admit, as it continues to swirl in my mind.

London sits up, pulling the sheets with her. “I need to find Amara.”

I hear the worry and concern in her voice, but I’ll be damned if we have a repeat of what happened the first time she went rogue, looking for the young woman on her own.

I clench my jaw. “I know you are concerned, babe, but don’t get it in that pretty little head that you can do somethin’ about it,” I warn her.

“That fucker might very well be connected to Amara’s disappearance, but his ties to that situation and you snoopin’ around is only half of it.

He was part of a bigger threat, not just to Amara or you, but to the club.

That asshole crossed both our paths. They may not be the same stories, but they’re twisted together.

” I exhale hard, wound tight with building tension.

London leans over, trailing her fingernails down my abs. “I don’t want to think right now.” Her lips touch mine, soft and sweet, then hungry.

I grab the back of her head, deepening the kiss, and pull her into my lap. The sheet drops, and her bare skin meets mine, and all rational thought flies the fuck out the window.

I wanted her from the moment she walked into our lives. But now? It’s much more than want. It’s need. It’s possession. She’s mine . Every inch of her, every breath, every fucking heartbeat.

“Fuck,” I mutter against her as she reaches between us and strokes my cock. “You got no idea what you do to me.” I dip my head, taking one of her nipples into my mouth, and London gasps.

“Then show me.”

Just as I flip her under me, ready to do just that…

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Everest.” Fender’s voice is outside the door. “Prez is callin’ church. Now .”

I groan, pressing my forehead to London’s, my dick throbbing, ready to sink into her pussy. “Motherfucker’s got the worst timing.”

London laughs softly while reaching between us, grabbing my dick and teasingly rubbing the head up and down her slit, then stroking it against her clit. And fuck if I don’t damn near come right then and there, watching her. She moans, then says, “Rain check?”

I growl, giving her one last kiss, rough and deep. “This ain’t over, babe.”

She smiles. “Damn right it’s not.”

By the time I pull on my jeans and boots, I’ve managed to cool down enough for my dick to do the same. I cast one last glance at London, her hair wild and eyes stormy, her lips swollen from our kiss. The look she gives me says she is just as frustrated that we don’t get to finish what we started.

Sighing, I head downstairs, where the smell of coffee hangs heavy in the air.

I grab a cup of caffeine and head toward the back of the building, where my brothers sit around the table.

Like always, Riggs is at the head, with Wick beside him.

I sit across from Kiwi, whose laptop is open, fingers flying across the keys.

Nova leans back in his chair, sipping his coffee, and Fender does the same, all looking tired.

The door closes, and Riggs gets to business. “Let’s get started.” He sighs. “Here’s what we know. Velasco’s son is gunnin’ for us. And word is spreadin’ that he wants vengeance.”

Wick leans forward. “The streets are talkin’, saying he’s got one of the local gangs backin’ him.”

I put my elbows on the table. “We also got a missin’ woman, Amara.

The one London was lookin’ for. We can't ignore the connection between the dead motherfucker who attempted to shut London up and Velasco. The former Velasco didn’t just run drugs, he was runnin’ in the skin trade too.

” My gut coils at the thought of what could have happened to London if Tony hadn’t reacted in time as he did.

“Fuck,” Riggs states.

“So, what’s the play?” Nova asks.

Riggs glances around the table. “We lock it down tighter than a gnat’s ass.

No one goes solo. Women stay close. We ride only if we have to.

I want someone with the women full-time.

Keep eyes on our families.” His eyes cut to Kiwi.

“Kiwi, keep diggin’. I want a face, location, and anything we can find on this new Velasco.

Y’all see somethin’ I’m the first to know.

Got it?” Riggs’ tone is stern, all business.

He stands. “I know we all got shit to do and lives to live. Roll out and stay vigilant."

With church over, I set out to find Catcher. I have something to handle and need his help. I find him in the kitchen, drinking coffee and sitting alone. He looks at me. “Need you with London. Don’t let her out of your sight. Tell her to take it up with me if she gets pissy.”

He nods. “Roger that.”

I step into the main room of the clubhouse.

It’s quieter than usual but not dead. Everyone is mingling, staying close for now while tending to the kids.

Over by the pool table, I spot Nova. He has his arm draped casually over Promise’s shoulder, head bent low, saying something only she’s meant to hear, judging by the blush on her cheeks.

Piper is near them, perched on the arm of the sofa, with Kiwi’s arm around her waist. I walk up to Nova, nodding.

“Need to go handle somethin’. Mind ridin’ along? ”

Nova leans in and kisses Promise without questioning me, then turns to Piper and presses a quick kiss to the side of her head. He then looks at Kiwi. “Keep them safe.”

“You got it.” Kiwi salutes.

Nova follows me through the front door. There’s no sun today, but the air is thick and muggy. I head for the bikes, and as we walk, Nova glances sideways at me.

“So, you and London.”

“Yup.”

“About time you two finally stopped pretendin’ you didn’t want to take a bite,” he says, swinging a leg over his bike.

I chuckle low and rough. “We’re still navigatin' what we got or where it’s goin’. But I’m in it, brother. For however long, or whatever comes our way, I’m here for the ride,” I confess.

Nova nods. “That’s all that fuckin’ matters.”

I climb onto my bike, the rumble of the engine resonating under my grip as I twist the throttle. Nova follows suit, his bike roaring to life beside me, and we roll out onto the road together.

The ride out to the facility is quiet. Nova and I cruise side by side down a long stretch of a two-lane highway.

The further we get from town, the more my mind drifts.

Not to Velasco or the threat hanging over our heads.

London consumes my headspace. We’re moving fast. Fast enough to rattle a man who doesn’t rattle easily.

But when you know, you know. And I do. Without a doubt, when I picture my future, London is the center of it.

We pull into the parking lot of the nursing home. It’s quaint, tucked away behind a line of pine trees. It’s damn near peaceful.

Nova kills his engine, eyeing me, looking for answers.

“London’s mom is here,” I offer, and he nods.

“I’ll keep post out here.” Nova climbs off his bike and stretches his legs.

Inside, I handle one of the things I came for—money. London won’t need to stress about her mom’s care again. Before I go, I ask if I can see her.

The nurse who leads me down the hall to Faye’s room smiles. “She’s having a really good day.” We stop outside room 208.

When I step into the room, I stop cold. Faye is sitting by the window. The sun finally breaks through the dark clouds, spilling over her hair as she lifts a mug to her lips. She turns and sees me standing in the doorway. Faye looks like my woman—older, softer, but with the same eyes.

“You must be Everest,” she says, her voice sweet and steady. “I would know you anywhere by how my girl talks about you.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s me,” I say, and walk into the room, sitting in an empty chair across from her. “She talks about me, huh?” I can’t help but grin.

Faye laughs softly. “All the time.”

“I care about her,” I admit.

Faye looks out the window, her gaze far off like she’s seeing memories she doesn’t want to let go of. “London was always a strong one. As a child, she always insisted on standing on her own two feet, even when they were shaking.”

That’s my woman.