Page 26

CHAPTER

FIVE

Rayleigh

“You two really did watch over me, didn’t you?” I murmur as I watch myself on the screen crawling on the floor, two little boys following along behind me.

“It was our job,” Banshee fiercely stresses, his tone serious and unquestionable. “I screwed up, though.”

Reaching over, I grab his hand and squeeze. “No, you didn’t, Ban. You were no match for a grown adult who coldcocked you. Please stop feeling guilty for something that was out of your control.”

“If I had ordered one of the younger kids to get help instead of shooing them inside without any directive, it might have saved you sooner,” he cries out, his pain palpable.

“Or you could’ve gotten more people hurt or killed,” I return. “You have no clue if he had a gun, you really didn’t know if there was anyone else hiding in the vehicle he came in, so you did what y’all were trained to do, right?”

“She’s right, Ban. Our dads always impressed upon us to send the little kids inside if we felt there was an immediate threat to their safety of some kind. You did what you were schooled and were told you were supposed to do in that exact set of circumstances.”

“And in the meantime, my own sister was kidnapped.” His tone is self-deprecating and my heart cries at the pain I hear.

“I survived, Banshee. I fucking survived,” I remind him. “Thanks to y’all joining in with the Royal Bastards, there were brothers who came to help find me and also heal me and my wounds. I was beaten and left for dead, yes, but they never did anything worse and for that, I’m more grateful because that might have shattered me forever. Please forgive yourself because as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing I have to forgive you for. The only ones to blame are the ones who were behind the plot to take me to begin with, as well as my fake parents. They’ll never earn my forgiveness, but it’s okay because I’ve got it on good authority that they’re burning in Hell while paying for their earthly misdeeds.”

Rael made sure to tell me how each of the three suffered; Laura, Dave, and Enoch found their end reward screaming after being tortured for what they’d done to me. Brick wasn’t happy about me being told, but as Rael explained to him without any remorse, I deserved to know since I was the one who’d suffered at their hands, so he finally relented and let go of his resentment.

He finally nods and unpauses the screen, hitting the play button once again. This time, I watch while everyone is cheering as I pull myself up then unsteadily toddle. Straight into Brick’s legs. He scoops me up and I watch as my younger self pats his cheeks and says, “Mine. Brick mine.”

Brick’s phone rings and I see him stiffen when he catches the name on the caller ID. He answers it then immediately hands it over to me.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Child, it’s Madame Laveaux. You’ve always been his and he’s always been yours. The Fates decided that long ago. Do you see it now?” she asks.

I don’t know how she does what she does; it’s kind of spooky.

“Yes, ma’am, I do.”

“You’ve been worried for no reason. It’s not good for the baby.” With that she hangs up.

Baby? What baby? Did she just imply—? Surely not… I’d know, wouldn’t I? Besides, I’m on birth control so how would it even be possible?

My eyes are huge as they look up at Brick. I’m positive he must have heard her because I’m practically sitting in his lap while we watch the movies.

“Brick? Did I hear her say what I think she just did?”

“What? What who said? Who was it?” Banshee questions, his hackles raised.

“Madame Laveaux,” Brick responds, not taking his gaze away from me. “Seems my ol’ lady has been concerned she wasn’t good enough or something to be mine, which Madame Laveaux says isn’t good for the baby.”

“Baby?” Ban whispers.

“Apparently so. Okay, so we’re gonna take off, keep that under your hat, brother, while we go grab some tests to confirm what she’s just imparted on us, although it’s merely a formality at this point because she doesn’t make mistakes such as this.”

I’m still in complete and utter shock as Brick hustles me out of the house with barely a goodbye tossed over my shoulder toward my brother. Then before I know it, I’m on the back of his bike and we’re headed into town and the pharmacy. Although, he’s going much slower than he ever has in the past which has me secretly smiling into his back. His protectiveness knows no bounds and I love it.

Brick

As I pace outside the bathroom door, my heart pounding a mile a minute, I can’t help the worry that wants to creep into my mind. We’ve got this fucking threat from the Demon Devil Douches now and I’m not stupid enough to think they won’t come after my woman to get to me. Only this time, there’s more than one life at stake if Madame Laveaux’s prediction is confirmed.

One tiny stick will change the outlook and course of our lives.

“Anything yet?” I call out while cradling both kittens in my arms. It’s as though they sensed I was stressed because they both took running jumps onto my jeans then crawled up my legs like they were tree trunks until I picked them up and dug their sharp claws out of my flesh.

She giggles then sasses, “It says the results take three minutes to show up, Brick, and it’s been less than one. Patience, handsome.”

Patience be damned.

I’m always patient.

With everyone and everything. Hell, until she came into my life, I was the epitome of what being in control meant. Since then, my life has been a bit topsy-turvy and a whirlwind of endless anxiety, but I have no desire to change a damn thing. I went from being alone and lonely, to having this feisty, sassy woman, as well as two fuzzy furbabies as she calls them.

Now, I might be adding a human baby, the first one born into the club since we patched over and became a branch of the Royal Bastards.

I send up a prayer to the universe that my pops will be around long enough to meet his grandchild, even if he won’t necessarily remember. I wish there was some way to heal him, even just a little bit, because I find myself needing his direction just like I did when I was much younger and navigating my way into adulthood.

The door slowly opens, and I freeze in place. “Brick?” she questions, her eyes as wide as saucers, while she holds multiple tests in the palms of her hands.

“Sweetheart, did you take all of those?” I ask, unsticking myself and moving toward her, a smirk on my face.

“I wanted to be one hundred percent sure,” she replies, sounding defensive. “What if one was defective or something?”

“Madame Laveaux isn’t known for being wrong, babe.”

“I know but we still had to check.”

“And?” I leave that one word hanging. I can physically see the test results but want her to verbally say them out loud.

“We’re gonna have a baby, Brick.” Her voice is full of wonder tinged with a little bit of fear. “What do I know about being a mom?” Now she’s muttering to herself, an endearing if somewhat unnerving habit she has, likely because of the sheer amount of time she was left alone with only herself for company.

Gently putting the kittens down, I reach for my woman, extracting the tests from her hands and subtly placing them back on the bathroom counter, then I crowd into her and wash our hands. Can’t be too careful with germs and I was touching the cats and she did have the sticks with her pee on them in the clutch of her hands. “Let’s wash our hands, shall we?”

She starts giggling when she realizes what I’m doing. “You’re gonna be an overprotective ass about all of this, aren't you?”

“And you’re gonna let me. Speaking of, what was the name of that self-cleaning litter box you wanted to get for Calvin and Hobbes? I’ll get one ordered and the prospects can take over cleaning it because I remember reading somewhere once that pregnant women shouldn’t mess with litter boxes. The odor and fumes are bad for both you and for the baby.”

Now she’s doubled over laughing as tears flow down her face. “Brick, you know women have been pregnant for thousands of years without any problems, right?”

“They weren’t my ol’ lady,” I point out, pulling her into my arms now that our hands are reasonably germ-free. “I should probably get someone to check on coming out to the clubhouse, clean the ducts and shit so you aren’t breathing in anything harmful like dust and debris. Oh, and I’ll be sure to reiterate to the guys, so they know to smoke their cigarettes, cigars, and blunts outside from here on out. Can’t be too safe.”

“This is gonna be a long-ass pregnancy,” she mutters, grinning up at me. “But I’m here for it.”

“You better be, sweetheart,” I growl out, taking her lips in mine. “Now, we’ve got a little time before I have Church again, what say we celebrate the good news?”

I leave my woman sated and lightly dozing as I shrug my cut on over my shoulders then head back down to the common area so I can grab a drink before Church. Due to the surprising news we received earlier I definitely need to find those fuckers before they try anything stupid.

I spot Hawg walking out from his office area, laptop tucked under his armpit, and immediately holler out, “Church! Grab your drink of choice and move your asses!”

My pops looks at me and starts bitching. “Brick, you haven’t taken over the gavel yet, why are you acting the way you are? Keep in mind while you’re over here dishing out orders, you're not the man in charge yet, son.”

“Pops, earlier you said you wanted to have church,” I tell him, thinking on my feet while crossing my fingers at the white lie I’m spewing right now so that he’ll think this is nothing more than a reminder.

“Fuck, totally forgot about that. Y’all get the lead out!” he bellows, his arm spinning in the air like he used to do when we were about to take off on a run. “Thanks, Brick. So much has been going on around here that it slipped my mind.”

“Not a problem, Pops,” I utter, keeping the quirk of my smile buried beneath the surface. It feels good to see signs of the old man when he has his days of clarity.

My brothers don’t miss a beat; hell, even Murder and his guys don’t say a word even though I see their mouths twitch with humor. They all grab their beers or drinks from the prospect behind the bar and head down the hall into Church. As everyone finds their seats, I notice Hawg is pulling down the overhead screen we use to project images whenever he’s got something to share that we all have to see. Usually, he just reads shit to us from his screen, so hopefully, it means he’s found where those fuckers are hiding.

The door finally closed, I grab my gavel and bang it on the table, calling out, “Shut the fuck up, we’ve got shit to discuss!” Once the room goes so completely silent you could hear a pin drop from one end of the table to the other, I continue. “Alright, looks like Hawg has some information to give us about those douche fuckers, but first, we’re adding a new rule.”

Brew grabs his ever-present tablet and opens it up to start taking notes on the meeting. “What’s that, Pres?” he queries once he’s on the site Hawg set up for our encrypted shit.

“Rayleigh’s expecting,” I start to say, only to have the room explode with cheers along with pounding on the table. Glancing at Banshee, I see his face is wreathed in a smile, something he doesn’t do very often.

I’ve noticed, though, even though he just found out about Rayleigh, Ban’s smiling and grinning more with each day that passes. I’m glad my best friend’s coming back to his former self, although I suspect he’s going to be just as overprotective toward her as I am when it comes to her pregnancy. He won’t take a chance of anything happening to her.

“Means a few things need to change around here, brothers,” I state, my tone serious. “We’ll get the prospects to add an overhang off the back porch and hell, even screen it in so y’all don’t freeze during the winter, but no more smoking being done out in the open. It’s not good for her or the baby. So, no blunts, cigs, or cigars in the common area or anywhere my ol’ lady might be. In here smoking should be okay since we’ve got it really well insulated and filtered. Banshee, I need you to get some of the brothers to check into what it’s gonna run for us to get the ducts in the clubhouse suctioned out and maybe check into adding an air purification system or something. You know, like they use at hospitals to ensure germs are removed and the rooms are sterilized?”

Phantom starts chuckling and soon, the rest of my brothers, even Murder and his crew, are practically in hysterics, doubled over, red-faced, and pounding their hands on the table or their chair. He waves his hands around his head several times while taking deep breaths before he finally stutters out, “P-p-pres, you think you’re gonna make it with your sanity intact until she delivers? Because the way I see it, she can’t be too far along and already you’re changing everything. What’s next? She won’t be able to work for me or Brew at the businesses?”

When Phantom refers to me as pres, Pops’ eyebrows draw up and he sends me a ‘what the fuck’ look that has me shaking my head, but I choose not to interrupt my brothers and play peacekeeper once we wrap things up.

“Come to think of it, should she be around those chemicals?” I mutter, completely ignoring Pops’ bemused look, tapping my fingers against the table as I think about how I can possibly even consider taking that newfound freedom away from my ol’ lady. She’s fought hard to get her GED, to build some independence as she learned everything she needed to in order to actually survive in today’s world.

“Brother, have your prospects do the heavy bullshit, check the cleaners she uses to make sure they’re not harmful to pregnant women and replace them if they are, and let her keep doing her thing. She’s pregnant, not ill, and from the little I know about her past, she’s been working hard to build herself up,” Murder suggests once the rest of the room calms down. “Now, the no smoking thing, that’s not a bad idea because this club as a whole is about living free and easy, but not everyone smokes these days and they’ve got just as much right not to smell the fumes or breathe it in as those who light up do. We can’t take away their rights to enjoy their nicotine or weed fix.”

I see my pops start grinning before he reminisces, “We did that when Lorelei got pregnant the second time too, which woulda been with Ryleigh. All them reports were coming out during that time about how bad secondhand cigarette smoke was and shit, so whenever she was around us brothers, we had a no-smoking policy in the house. Some of the old-timers were pissed but the rest of the ol’ ladies stuck up for her and banded together, even though she wasn’t the one pushing the issue. Bonzai was, actually. Fuck, these women end up toting our balls around, don’t they?”

Murder smirks before replying, “Yeah, but fuck, it’s worth it, RiffRaff.”

“Yeah, it is.” Pops’ smile that accompanies his words lets me know he’s living in the days of his past.

Once again, I wish he were more with it because he’d fucking love being able to tell his grandson or daughter all the stories, and taking them fishing like he used to do with me and Ban when we were kids.

Pushing those maudlin thoughts to the side, I look at Hawg and ask, “Any update on the dead fuckers?”

“We know where they’re cooking and packaging for distribution, so I think we should set up a plan to take them down while Murder’s here since it impacts his chapter as well. Not sure where they hole up yet, though, brother, because from what I was able to deduce, no one actually lives there.”

A map pops up on the overhead and we all groan when we recognize the area. Granted we’re in the mountains, but where they’re apparently brewing their poison is an area that’s full of old hunting cabins.

“It’s actually kind of perfect,” I murmur looking at the map. “They aren’t accessible to the general public per se, and the owner of those cabins is dead with no living family, so no one would necessarily go up there exploring.”

“They probably stay close enough to keep an eye on things, but hell that shit will kill ya, so unless they’ve lost themselves to the addiction of the drug already, they’re smart not to be there sleeping and breathing in the toxic air,” Phantom retorts. “Fuck, I don’t have a problem with folks doing weed, hell, even the occasional hit of blow if that’s their gig, but I prefer to be in control of my mind and body. Not only that, but it’s fucking poison, y’know?”

Nodding, I retort, “I hear ya, brother. Prefer the way we’re making money, less likelihood of having the ATF hounding our asses or following our every move. Now, let’s put together a plan of action to shut them down for good and see if we can find where they’re hiding. The sooner they’re shut down, the better I’ll feel because with them gunning for us, me having an ol’ lady now puts a huge target on her back and my unborn kid.”

Murder and his men have some good ideas about how we can safely dismantle the meth lab, then drop an anonymous tip into the right ears so it can be disposed of without harming anyone nearby and we decide to head out first thing in the morning to search for the douches.