...or something: Ronacks Motorcycle Club (21 page)

"Yes, yes, I promise. Please, be careful. Please."

"I'm on my way. I need to hang up to ride." He disconnected the call, unable to wait for her to confirm she heard him, shoved the phone in his pocket, and hit Main Street in third gear and opened the throttle.

He had no idea what he'd ride into at home or what was happening outside his house. He only knew he wasn't leaving Bree, and he'd damn well make sure nobody took her out of his life.

Five miles out of town, he caught up with Rod. Passing his V.P., he glanced over and read the concerned look on Rod's face before he rode the other three miles to the road he needed to take home.

He pulled over to the side of the road and cut his engine. Flagging down Rod to keep him from downshifting and making the Harley louder, he motioned his finger across this throat, and Rod cut the engine, coasting to a stop next to him.

"What did she say?" asked Rod.

"Duke's been shot." His jaw ached. "Says he's dead."

"Holy, motherfucking Christ." Rod ran his hand down his face.

"Hold it in, brother. Do it for, Duke." Battery took out his pistol and put it between his legs. "We ride in ready for anything. I don't know if everyone is in the house or what men are outside. If I go off what Bree told me, Mel, Grady, Dennis, and Grand could still be on guard or dealing with the Russians or Richard. Keep your eyes open. The men we're after will more than likely be driving a black Escalade and wear black clothes, don't fucking see a brother's vest and shoot because it's black. Keep your fucking eyes out for Richard and if he's in this mess, do not let him get away."

"Nobody takes out a brother." Rod's jaw ticked.

"It looks like shit just stormed on Ronacks." Battery put his right foot on the peg. "We ride with purpose."

Ride nodded. "I'll lead the way."

Battery opened his mouth to argue. He wanted to reach Bree but knew his MC brother's first job was to protect his president.

"Let's roll and get the motherfuckers." Battery started his motorcycle and followed Rod down the road.

Acutely aware of every motion and knowing his property, he kept his eyes on the trees, searching in the areas where someone could hide and have a clear shot. His adrenaline had him paying attention to the smallest details, and that's how he spotted the steady line of dark, red blood starting at the edge of the concrete driveway in front of the garage.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbled, parking his bike, and heading straight to the door.

Rod banged his fist on the wood. "Open up. Prez is coming in."

Battery stepped around him and walked inside when the door swung open. His gaze latched on to Bree standing at the side of the pool table. Then he looked at the bulk underneath the blanket covering the table and walked the rest of the way to his woman.

Bree dove for his chest. He held her tight and looked into each pair of eyes in the room. Every member reeled with the devastation and loss of their MC brother, one of their own, one of their family, and the grave situation. He held Bree together. His club had been touched by evil.

T
he silence of death weaved between each member of Ronacks Motorcycle Club and wrapped the room in its cold hands. Battery held Bree's head against his chest and away from the sight of Duke's blanket-covered body in the middle of the room. His men looked at him on what to do next.

"Besides Raelyn, Duke only had a grandmother." Battery's voice, while quiet, seemed to make the room throb. "She's in a nursing home in Missoula. Alzheimer's and a host of other problems that come with old age. There's no use contacting her because the news of Duke will only confuse her more on top of the pain we'd be laying on her shoulders. We'd be doing Duke a favor letting his grandma have peace, and I'll make sure her bills are paid to continue her care in the nursing home."

Bree's body trembled. He blew out a steady breath, keeping it together for his club. The aftereffects of being separated from Bree when she needed him the most, left him shaken, his thoughts slow, his need to shelter down on high alert. It could be her laying on the pool table, face covered, no longer breathing.

"Rod, if we can clean up Duke and the room, I'll have LeWorth and Choke ride over and pick up Raelyn in the truck. We must be vigilant because the danger to each one of us is still out there. When Raelyn gets here, we'll all let her have her time and then we'll ask her what she wants to do." He cleared his throat and held on to Bree. "She'll need to understand that there is only one choice in the matter. We'll bury him on club property and keep the information within the club. Then we all watch over her and make sure she doesn't talk."

Bree pushed against him, her head shaking against his hand. He held her still. "Let's move on this before it gets too late and we're working in the dark."

Mel stepped away from the meet-up first, rubbing his arm across his eyes. "I'll clean up outside."

Battery looked at Sander. "Go with him. Everyone in twos."

Heads nodded. He walked Bree over to the side of the room, using his body to block the sight of a dead Ronacks member from Bree's vision. He cupped her face. Her heartache evident on her face.

"I'm going to ask you to be strong, carny-girl. Raelyn's your best friend and she's got a baby growing inside of her." He moistened his lips, taking the time to steady his pulse. "Our only concern right now is Raelyn and the baby. That's what Duke would want us to do."

She blinked, sending fresh tears down her cheeks, and nodded. "This is my fault," she mouthed.

He shook his head. It was only one man's fault.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "So, sorry."

"Sh." He swiped his thumbs under her eyes, collecting her tears. "We got a job to do, Bree. You need to pull it together. Do this for Raelyn. Do this for Ronacks. Do it for me. Can you do that?"

She sniffed and blinked heavier. "Yeah."

"Yeah." He inhaled deeply, taking his own advice.

Letting her go to test her promise, he watched her rub feeling back in her arms, her cheeks, her heart. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, put two in his mouth, lit the ends, and handed one over to Bree. "Here you go, carny-girl. Smoke it all. The cigarette will help you calm down."

She sucked the smoke into her body and exhaled. Her hand trembled less. He stayed in front of her until she finished and put the cigarette out in the ashtray on the counter. Then he moved his body and let her see the room again.

Bree's chin came up, and she steeled her jaw. He forced himself not to touch her, confident she had the strength inside of her to get through the rest of the day. His touch would only make things worse.

His carny-girl. Born soft and made hard by life, she'd find out in the days to come that she had a strength she never imagined.

"Truck coming," said Grady at the window. "They've brought Raelyn."

Bree moved away from him and stood in front of the pool table, her back to the devastating and life changing news waiting for Raelyn. Battery closed his eyes a few seconds absorbing what he'd witnessed and proud of Bree, knowing she wanted to protect her friend in much the same way he wanted to protect Bree and his club.

Death would come to all of them. Some, sooner than later. Some, more horrific than others.

The door opened, and Raelyn walked in, felt the somber room, and frowned at Bree, looked at Battery, and put her hand over her nearly flat stomach.

"What's going on?" asked Raelyn stepping further into the room.

Not wanting to put off the news any longer and drag Raelyn through unnecessary pain, Battery walked over and guided Raelyn to the table and sat her down.

He squatted by her chair. "We had some trouble today, sweetheart."

Raelyn's neck straightened and she looked toward the pool table. Her second hint that something wasn't right reflected in the way her hand came out and gripped the edge of the table.

"Where's Duke?" she whispered, looking back at Battery.

He gathered her hands in his. "The trouble Ronacks has been dealing with came down hard on the club this afternoon. Duke was shot—"

"No..." Raelyn's head shook side to side.

"He didn't make it, sweetheart." He squeezed her hands, keeping her from striking out and hurting herself and the baby. "You need to think of the baby, Raelyn. Ronacks will help you. You're a part of the family. That baby will be surrounded by people who love you."

"No." She tried to stand.

He held her on the chair. "Duke would want you to take care of yourself. He told me yesterday that he was happy. He wanted to be a father more than anything, sweetheart. That's now your job to bring that baby into the world and make Duke proud. You've got to put everything you've got into taking care of Duke's son or daughter."

"Duke?" Raelyn pulled against Battery. "Duke!"

Battery let her go, stepped back, and watched her run toward the pool table. Bree never stopped her, but in an unusual move, put her hand on Raelyn's back as her friend pulled back the blanket covering her dead husband.

Then, his woman held the weight of Raelyn as her legs gave out. Battery motioned Rod back when he stepped forward to help. Bree had moved forward and taken her role as the woman to the president and would handle the grieving process with Raelyn.

A job she never asked for. A job he forced on her. A job that would either break her or make her unbreakable.

LeWorth walked over to Battery. "Everything is ready outside. He'll be laid to rest on the east corner with a view of the west side and the Bitterroot Mountains when the sun goes down. We've scouted the whole property. There's no one around."

"We'll go out like there is someone out there. We're not going to lose another member." A heaviness settled over him. "When Raelyn's ready, we'll all be there to see Duke properly buried. Ask Swiss if he could say some good words over our brother. Let Mel and Sander stay at the house with Bree."

"You're not going to let her go and help Raelyn get through the burial?" asked LeWorth.

His spine stiffened, and he crossed his arms. "It's too risky. She's the one they're after."

Bree talked quietly with Raelyn over her raw sobs gripping the room in her pain. Ever patient and wise, Bree understood what was happening, took responsibility where none was needed, and even over the distance in the room, Bree calmed Battery.

The young woman who was never young to begin with would be aged beyond her years by the end of the night.

Battery had to tell her the rest of the truth.

The truth might save her life and in return kill everything she felt for him. But, he had to do it. For her sake. For the club's sake.

E
very single member of Ronacks had a job tonight. Rod went home with Raelyn to sleep on her couch because she wanted to return to the bed she'd shared with Duke. Everyone else had guard duty around Battery's house. Security was needed not only for the proximity and proof there was a weakness that allowed others too close for his comfort, but to give him the confidence that after he spoke with Bree, she couldn't run away.

Bree stood in the kitchen, staring mindlessly at the counter. He hooked her chin with his finger and raised her gaze. She'd numbed herself to accept the changes and to protect herself from the hurt.

She moved through the motions, said the right words to comfort everyone, and her strength was fading fast.

It was time to talk, and he'd use Duke's death to his advantage. A hurt on top of a hurt would be less shocking, he hoped.

"I think I want some coffee," she said. "Do you want a cup?"

He wanted a bottle of whiskey or three. "Yeah. I'd drink one."

She poured leftover coffee from the morning into two mugs and used the microwave to heat up each one. His need for fresh no longer mattered. He needed the warmth.

"Let's go in the living room and sit down. We need to talk." He placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her.

She was still in shock. Nothing registered on her face. She was unaware of the turmoil gutting him and the mourning he went through for Duke, and Bree.

He sat down on the coffee table in front of her and let her sip a few drinks. He had no idea where to start. His story, her story, started ages ago, he never knew any differently on how to live.

"I feel so bad for Raelyn." Bree leaned back in the cushion of the couch. "I'm going to talk to the other women in the morning. We can all take turns bringing food over to Duke's...to her house and making sure she eats. That way there's someone close by for when she wants to talk or just wants company. I know I can't be at her house because of being on lockdown, but if I make a few things can you or one of the men take it to her?"

He nodded. "The club will take care of Raelyn."

"I know." She rubbed her hands over her face. "I just wish..."

His time with Bree over, he closed himself off from feeling anything connected with the club, his men, Duke, and even Raelyn. They would all be here in the end. Right now, he needed to save Bree.

"Bree?" He placed his hands on her knees. "I need to tell you things that you have no idea about, and I need you to keep an open mind and hear me out."

"What's wrong?" She leaned forward and laid her hands on top of his. "Is it about the man who killed Duke?"

"Yeah, carney-girl." His chest tightened. "There's more to him coming after you for revenge, and that I'm involved. I've always been involved."

"I don't know what you mean," she said, frowning.

"I need to start at the beginning." He blew out his breath and forced himself to tell the tale that started everything. "I joined Ronacks Motorcycle Club when I was nineteen years old. Like most prospects, I threw myself into every aspect of the club. At twenty-one, I was patched in, and I worked the roster with the other members. One of the places I ran security for was Pine Bar and Grill."

"Pine...?" She tilted her head. "You were twenty-one? Then—"

"Yeah, I worked at your parents' bar." He swallowed. "I knew your parents. I knew your mom when she was pregnant with you in her belly, just like Raelyn is carrying Duke's baby. I knew you a few hours after you were born and witnessed the changes you made every day. I watched you learn to walk from the bar stool at the Bar to the table where you crashed and picked yourself up without a cry. Your folks...they'd keep you at the bar and let you play behind the counter when you were little because they loved you and didn't like the idea of sending you to a sitter. You were their whole world."