Page 18 of Hard as Stone (Stoneheart MC #2)
POPPY
“ T his is getting ridiculous,” I mutter, watching Dad pace back and forth behind the excavator, phone pressed to his ear. It’s the third ‘private’ call he’s taken this morning, and we’ve barely started work.
“Maybe he’s trying to find more workers,” Hugo suggests, inclining his head to where the two other guys assigned to our crew are taking a smoke break while Dad sorts out whatever he’s ‘sorting out’. “We’re working with a skeleton crew more often than not lately.”
“Unless you’re working on the east side of town where we’ve got everything we need—extra crews, materials actually showing up on time, even those armed security guys in their fancy SUVs making sure the job goes off without a hitch,” I retort, regretting my words the moment I see the storm light up behind Felix’s eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I bite my lip, knowing that accusing Dad of doing anything outright could backfire spectacularly.
“Nothing. Just that it seems odd, doesn’t it?” I say carefully. “How some parts of town get all the resources while others are left scrambling? Like, if we put one more road block up, we won’t even be able to get home at the end of the day.”
Felix’s eyes narrow. “You been talking to that biker again, haven’t you?”
“I don’t need a ‘biker’ to point shit out, Felix,” I snap. “I have eyes. I can see what’s happening in front of me. And these things on the side of my head”—I wiggle my ears—”are capable of hearing all the hushed phone calls on site and at home.”
“Maybe Dad’s just got a girlfriend,” Hugo suggests from where he’s leaning against a concrete barrier in the shade. Meanwhile, I’m roasting in the sun with only my stop sign for shade.
“Yeah, right.” I snort. “Unless her name is Money, and she’s really high maintenance.”
“Careful,” Hugo warns, his eyes darting to where Dad is still pacing. “You know how he gets when anyone questions how he does business.”
I bite back another retort, knowing Hugo’s right. Dad’s temper has been on a hair trigger lately, especially when it comes to anything related to the construction contracts.
“He’s just stressed about keeping the contract on track,” Felix says, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
“Is that why we’re sitting around with our thumbs up our asses making it almost impossible for anyone to travel along Iron Way?
” I press. “The supplies that were supposed to be here last week still haven’t shown up, the permit paperwork keeps ‘disappearing’ at city hall, and somehow we’re still tearing up more of the street even though we can’t finish what we’ve already started.
Since when do road repairs work like that? ”
“Drop it, Pops,” Felix warns, flipping his safety helmet over in his hands. “You’re getting paranoid.”
“Am I?” I shift my weight, adjusting my grip on the sign. “Or are you both just refusing to see what’s right in front of you?”
Before either can respond, the rumble of motorcycles has me looking up from where I’m directing traffic around our latest excavation.
My heart does a little flip thinking Axel’s come to see me, but this isn’t a social call.
I can tell by the way they ride—a deliberate formation that screams power play.
The biker in front wears a cut with a ‘President’ patch prominently displayed.
But the authority that seems to roll off him makes the patch almost redundant.
Axel and Lee flank him like royal guards, their ‘Road Captain’ and ‘Enforcer’ patches marking their rank.
Even watching them approach, I can see how different this hierarchy is from my father’s brute-force control—there’s respect in how they move, trust in how they position themselves.
Behind them, at least six more bikes fall into formation, their riders all wearing the Stoneheart MC cut with various other patches I don’t understand yet.
I’m learning, though. Starting to recognize what different patches mean, how the hierarchy works. The way they arrange themselves around the President tells its own story about rank and respect.
Axel’s eyes meet mine as they approach, and there’s a warning there that makes my stomach clench.
This is club business, not boyfriend business.
I can tell by the rigid set of his shoulders, the way he positions his bike slightly behind the President’s, showing deference to rank, even though all I want is for him to ride up and kiss me like he did last night.
“What the hell?” Felix mutters at my shoulder. The bikes have everyone’s attention now. “What are they doing here?”
Before I can answer, Dad strides out from behind the excavator. “Bennett Construction is here by order of the City of Stoneheart,” he announces loudly, moving to intercept the President. “We don’t need whatever protection racket you’re selling.”
“Not selling anything.” The President—Stone, going by the patch above his rank—kills his engine but stays mounted, the authority in his bearing making it clear who holds the power here.
“Just here to discuss some concerns about this…” He pauses and does a slow scan of the torn-up road. “Beautification project.”
Dad snorts. “Any concerns can be brought up at the town hall meeting next week.”
“Oh, we plan to,” Stone says, staring Dad down to the point where my father looks away and acts as though he’s swatting a bug to cover his discomfort. “Formal complaints will be lodged.”
“Everything we do is above board.”
“That so?” Lee leans forward on his handlebars, and I see Axel’s hand twitch at his side, near where I know he keeps his gun. “Because we’ve been hearing some interesting things about Summit Development’s real plans for this town.”
My father’s laugh is cold. “And what would a bunch of bikers know about development plans?”
“More than you think.” The President’s eyes narrow. “Like how they’re using road work to force people out of their homes. How they’re targeting the west side with their ‘improvements.’”
“This road was full of holes with no storm drainage. We’re fixing it.”
“At the expense of people’s livelihoods,” Stone counters.
“We’ve got folks who can barely get their cars out to make grocery runs.
Duck’s garage lost business last month because customers can’t reach him.
You’re tearing up streets with no materials on site, no crews scheduled, and no plans to repave for weeks.
Seems like a funny way to ‘improve’ things. ”
I watch the exchange with growing unease. Dad’s shoulders are tense, his hands clenched at his sides.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dad snarls. “We have permits, contracts. Everything’s legal.”
“Legal don’t always mean right,” Lee says, and as torn as I am between wanting to believe everything my father is doing is OK, I have to agree with the club’s Enforcer. This work we’re doing is making life harder for the residents of Stoneheart who struggle the most.
Dad’s face flushes red. “Get off my work site before I call the police.”
“Your work site?” Stone raises an eyebrow. “Last I checked, these were public roads. We’ve got as much right to be here as anyone.”
“Not if you’re interfering with official city business,” Dad snaps.
“We’re just having a friendly conversation,” Stone says, his tone deceptively mild. “No interference here.”
I can see Dad’s temper fraying. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, and there’s a vein throbbing in his forehead. I’ve seen that look before, and it never ends well.
“Look,” I say, stepping forward before things can escalate further. “Maybe we can all take a step back and?—”
“Stay out of this, Poppy,” Dad snaps, shoving me out of the way. I stumble backward, but Hugo and Felix catch me before I can fall.
Axel’s off his bike in a heartbeat, but Stone’s sharp, “Stand down!” freezes him mid-stride. I see the war on Axel’s face—the Road Captain wanting to follow orders, the man wanting to put my father through a wall for touching me.
“That’s strike one,” comes a gravelly voice from behind Stone. A biker with a Sergeant at Arms patch named Hawk moves his bike forward slightly. His hand rests casually on his hip, but there’s nothing casual about the threat in his stance. “You don’t want to see strike two.”
“Keep your dog on a leash,” Dad sneers at Stone, but I notice he takes a step back. Even he’s not stupid enough to push when outnumbered by angry bikers.
“You’ll only get one warning,” Stone says quietly. The calmer his voice gets, the more dangerous he sounds. “Touch your daughter like that again, and we’ll have a different kind of conversation. One that won’t be so friendly.”
“Get. Off. My. Site.” Each word comes out like a bullet. “And keep your men away from my daughter.”
Axel’s entire body goes rigid at that, but Stone’s hand, held in that military ‘hold’ signal, keeps him in place. The gesture isn’t lost on my brothers, nor is the way the other bikers shift, hands moving to weapons that aren’t visible, but that we all know are there.
“We’ll see you at the town hall meeting,” Stone says, revving his engine once Axel gets back on his bike. “Might want to think real hard about whose side you want to be on when everything comes to light.”
The MC roars away, leaving behind a cloud of dust and a silence heavy with unspoken threats. I can feel the weight of my brothers’ stares, but it’s Dad’s expression that makes my stomach turn. He looks at me like I’m a stranger—worse, like I’m the enemy.
“Inside,” he barks, jerking his thumb toward the site trailer. “Now.”
Felix grabs my arm as I move to follow Dad. “What have you done, Poppy?”
I yank free, hurt blooming in my chest at the accusation in his voice. “Me? What about what Dad’s doing? What about?—”
“Inside!” Dad’s voice cracks like a whip.
The trailer door slams behind us with enough force to rattle the windows. Dad rounds on me, his face mottled with rage. “You’ve been talking to them. Telling them our business.”
“No, I?—”
“Don’t lie to me!” His fist hits the desk, making me jump. “I’ve seen you with that Road Captain. Sneaking around, thinking I wouldn’t find out.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks—anger or shame, I’m not sure which. “I’m not sneaking anywhere. And maybe if you were honest about what’s really going on with these contracts?—”
“You want honesty?” Dad’s laugh is bitter, cruel. “Fine. Here’s some honesty for you. You’ve got a choice to make, Poppy. Right here, right now. It’s either your family or the MC. Can’t be both.”
My heart stops. “Dad?—”
“Choose.”
The word hangs between us like a guillotine blade.
Through the trailer window, I can still hear motorcycles in the distance.
The sound calls to something in my soul, something that feels more like home than this man ever has.
Dad’s idea of family means blind loyalty and keeping your mouth shut when things don’t add up.
But the MC? They protect their own, yes, but they also protect this town—these people who can barely make rent while my father’s secret phone calls discuss money I never see.
Still, when I look at Dad, at the brothers who’ve been my whole world for so long...
“I can’t just?—”
“You can and you will.” Dad’s voice drops, deadly quiet. “Because if you choose them, you’re not just choosing the MC. You’re choosing to walk away from everything we’ve built. Everything we are.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, little girl.” He turns away, dismissing me. “You’ve got until that town hall meeting to decide where your loyalty lies. After that...” He lets the threat hang unfinished.
I stumble out of the trailer, my legs shaking. The sun feels too bright, the air too thick. Everything I thought I knew about family, about loyalty, about love—it’s all crumbling around me.
And somewhere in the distance, bikes are still running. Still calling me home.
But to answer that call means losing everything I’ve ever known.
To ignore it means losing everything I’ve just found.