Shift (The Disciples' Daughters #2) (20 page)

The chair went flying into the wall. Pictures hanging around the room rattled, a couple near the point of impact fell, frames and glass clattering and cracking. A roar of fury rose above the small sounds and shuffling as brothers got to their feet.

I didn’t move.

Roadrunner was out of his mind. I knew the feeling. I would never forget it. Every man in the room could try to restrain him, wouldn’t do a fuckin’ thing. The kind of wrath he was letting loose couldn’t be contained. He had to let that shit out or it would kill him.

When the amount of destruction he could unleash in the small space ran its course, he turned to me. “Tell me we got something we can find this fucker with,” he demanded.

“Got some. First name. Used to be in Seattle. The fact that he was living with the bitch. And possible prison stint,” I explained in a voice a fuck of a lot more calm than I felt.

We were having church. All the brothers were at a big oak table in the room we used for those private meetings. Pres was at the head, sitting in front of a mural of the Savage Disciples’ patch. He hadn’t jumped to his feet to try to restrain Roadrunner, either.

It was a few days after I’d given Ash the truth about Indian and Barton. Stone had tried to call the meet sooner, but Ash had been struggling with the knowledge of what had happened to both her parents. I wasn’t willing to leave her through that. I’d only relented because she started to seem better and this shit needed sorting immediately.

My stomach was still turning from having to tell the brothers about what had happened to Ash. I didn’t give them the whole story like she did with me, but I gave them what they needed. Finding that fucker Jackson just became a top priority for every man in that room. It fucking killed me to share, but I needed them.

Roadrunner spun Jager’s way. “You on that?”

“Been eating and breathing that shit for the last two days,” Jager confirmed. “I’ll keep fuckin’ living it until we get him.”

Roadrunner, appeased, though no less ready to kill, moved back toward his spot at the table. A chair was passed his way from the back of the room seeing as his wasn’t fit for sitting anymore. Everyone sat back down, but there was no settling the room. The Disciples were out for blood.

I kept my eyes on Roadrunner. I knew he’d be the most affected by the news.

“When we get him, it’s your deal. Give you that, ‘cause she’s your woman. But I’m asking for a turn at him. For Indian.”

Jackson was mine. No fucking way I’d give on that, and I was glad he wasn’t pushing for it. I wanted the asshole to myself, but Roadrunner, most of all, had helped raise Ash. Indian was like blood to him and Ash was his goddaughter. I wanted to be selfish, but I could give my brother that. “It’s yours.”

He didn’t say anything else on it, just gave me a nod and turned back to the room at large.

Stone took back command. “You get anything yet, Jager?”

“Full name’s Jackson Dewitt. Did a nickel inside for possession—meth—was out about three years at the time. Haven’t been able to get in touch yet with anyone who might know, but my guess is he was dealing and probably still is. Lots of shit comes up on his record, mostly drug related, a couple fights, one domestic call that never became a formal charge. Found the apartment, which was in his name, but they were evicted. Called the landlord, said he didn’t have a forwarding address. Told me he nixed them because they were causin’ problems—parties, noise complaints, unsavory characters coming and going, rent payments were late.

“Followed the paper trail for the cousin, too. She went down herself for assault, one year. Been out for about that. Managed to find her address, still in Seattle. At least, it’s what she’s got on file with her probation officer. From what I can tell, he never actually followed up, so there’s a chance it’s fake. I’m thinking that’s unlikely, though. Bitch doesn’t strike me as bright and she doesn’t know she’s got reason to hide. Couldn’t find an address for Jackson. He’s probably shacked up with her or some other chick. Tried to get the landlord for her place, but seems he’s not the efficient callback kind.”

Two days, and he had all that. Fucker was a master.

“Good. We’ve got a start, then,” Stone said. “I don’t want to waste time on this. I want that asshole out back in the shed two fuckin’ days ago. Someone’s headin’ up there to check out the address. See if we can nail Jackson there, grab the bitch, either way. We don’t get a whiff of him, we’ll see what we can get out of her.” He looked my way. “This is your gig, brother. You want the say on who rides with you, you’ve got it.”

“Not ridin’,” I told him, surprising a few. “Ash isn’t dealing well with this shit coming back up and even less with the knowledge I had to drop on her about what happened to Indian. I’ve got her and a daughter here to focus on, particularly with the rest of the crap we still got swirling.”

“Fair enough,” Stone answered.

“I’ll ride,” Roadrunner volunteered. Not surprising.

“I’m in,” Slick added. “Be there to get us in without signs of entry if we need to sit on it.” Slick’s dad was a locksmith, taught him the trade. There wasn’t a thing he couldn’t get in or out of with the right equipment.

“Me,” Jager put in.

“Done,” Stone finished.

I threw nods to each of the brothers. They knew what their task meant to me. Slick had a pregnant wife and a kid at home. Volunteering to ride out told me he knew exactly what I was feeling.

“As if this wasn’t all fucked enough,” Stone went on, “we still gotta talk about Barton.”

Tank spoke up then. “Got another envelope.” He threw a thin stack of papers down on the table, nodding from me to them.

Another picture of Ash, same as the first set we got, which I’d finally seen. If I weren’t mistaken, it was one of the original images. Definitely her walking to work in uniform, so it wasn’t recent. I flipped through the next couple shots: each of the club’s garages, one that looked to be Gauge and Ham’s backs as they rode through town, and then another of Ash. The final image was the same one from the first mailing, the one where she was looking in the direction of the camera. This time, there was a different message scrawled on it.

Don’t get used to having her around.

Fuck that.

I threw the pile down. “We’ve gotta shut this shit down.”

Tank responded, “Got word from the Bastards, their intel says Barton met with the Italians. Looks like he’s scrambling. He wouldn’t even risk that shit if he could avoid it. His soldiers are defecting. Officer Andrews says he’s got two in custody, one started singing. Bastard is desperate. He hasn’t got much protection, but that makes him fuckin’ risky.”

“You think he’ll go kamikaze instead of disappearing?” Gauge asked.

“With that fucker, we can’t be sure,” Stone said. “Light lockdown, starting now. The women don’t go out unprotected.” He looked to Gauge and Slick. “I’d encourage you both to move your families here or to the farmhouse. More bodies on sight to keep everyone safe. Your call.”

Both men gave chin lifts, acknowledging the offer. My guess, they’d be convincing their women to do it. I would if Ash and I lived somewhere else.

“Until this shit blows over, everyone is carrying at all times. I’m not letting anyone get hurt because we underestimate the risk. Everyone’s armed, even in houses.”

I was going to have to do the gun talk with Emmy. She was young, so she wouldn’t understand the full scope of what guns could do, but she needed to understand they were off limits. None of the brothers were stupid enough to leave them out and they knew how to use the safety, but it wasn’t the sort of shit I was taking any risks with.

“Alright, we’re done here,” Stone announced. He banged his old, worn gavel against the table before putting it back on its shelf on the wall. The brothers started moving around. A couple got to picking up the fallen pictures. I waited, because I knew what was coming.

Roadrunner came my way. I stood, but let him approach.

“Is she okay?”

“It’s tough for her, this coming back up and now knowing all the brothers will know. She’s strong, though. Getting through it.”

“Don’t want you to get offended when I say this, ‘cause I know you’ll do it, but it’s my job with Indian gone,” he said. “Take care of her.”

I wouldn’t get offended by that. Anyone else told me to take care of Ash, as if I weren’t doing that already, I’d be pissed. Roadrunner didn’t need to explain, I knew he felt that way.

“I always will,” I swore.

He didn’t say anything else. I knew he was still struggling to keep it together. If it were anyone else, I’d feel sorry for Jackson. Roadrunner was on a warpath and nothing was going to stop the man. Since it was Jackson he was after, I felt like grinning for the first time in days.

That asshole was as good as mine.

Ash was sitting beside me on the couch, her legs up and across my lap. We were still at the clubhouse, hanging out with Gauge, Cami, Slick, Deni, and Ham. The girls had been hanging out while we’d been in church. Slick and Gauge were no more into the idea of leaving their women or kids at home than I’d been.

When the meet was over, I went right to Ash. It was going to be uncomfortable for her, the guys all knowing what had happened, and I was ready to get her and Emmy out of there if she needed it. She’d decided we should stick around and I wasn’t sure whether I should have been surprised or not. My warrior.

We’d hung around with everyone for a few hours at that point, calling out for pizza, which Emmy was thrilled about. We were all in the main room while Levi, Cami and Gauge’s son, and Jules, Slick and Deni’s little girl, were both asleep in one of the bedrooms. Emmy was on the ground, drawing. Luckily, I had some colored pencils stashed in my room at the clubhouse. Sure, they were actual art supplies, not a kid’s box, but I didn’t give a fuck. My princess liked to color, she could use anything of mine she wanted. If she broke them, I’d get more.

“You okay, Deni?” Cami asked.

We all looked over to see Deni looking uneasy and Slick rubbing her back.

“Morning sickness,” she explained. “It’s not bad, just a little queasy.”

“It’s seven o’clock at night,” Ham pointed out.

“Morning sickness is a bad name. It comes when it wants,” Deni explained.

Ash spoke from next to me. “Yeah. When I was carrying Emmy, I got it twice a day, like clockwork.”

“Really?” Deni asked. “That sucks.”

Ash nodded. “Yeah, and it went way past the third month. I got it for most of my pregnancy. Every day, once first thing in the morning, again in the afternoon. It wasn’t so bad, though. I was working, so it was nice that it was at least regular. I got through it before work, then took a break when it came back.” She shrugged like it was no big deal.

I didn’t feel like it was no big deal. Ash had been sick nearly the entire time she was carrying Emmy, and worse, she’d had to work through that.

Not wanting to have the conversation with everyone around, but not being able to sit on it, I asked, “You worked the whole time?”

She looked embarrassed, and I hated that even more.

“Well, I only got so much time off and I really needed to put money away before Emmy arrived. I wanted to have as long as possible with her after she was born.”

My arm went around her hips, yanking her closer, nearly sitting her in my lap. I leaned closer to her to edge the rest of the room out. “Next time, I’ll take care of you. You worked so hard for Emmy, and that makes you a fucking amazing mom. Next baby, I’ll take care of you both.”

She moved into me, laying her head on my shoulder. I settled back into the couch, feeling better. Dwelling on the past wasn’t going to do us any good. Ash was incredible. The way she sacrificed for Emmy was beautiful, even if it fucking hurt. In the future, I’d make it better.

I noticed Cami and Deni were throwing approving looks my way, but chose to ignore that. I only needed one woman’s approval…well, one woman and one little girl.

Speaking of, Emmy was headed our way. She climbed up onto the couch next to me and leaned in close.

“Daddy, I forgot what door was the potty,” she tried to whisper, but it was loud enough for the whole room to hear. Ash’s body locked up against me.

I pointed to a door across the room. “That one, princess.”

“Okay.” She smacked a kiss on my chin and ran off to the door.

Once it closed behind her, Ash whispered, “Daddy?”

Admittedly, I’d planned to wait on that. I hadn’t expected Emmy to use it again so soon, particularly in front of Ash. I couldn’t care that she did, though. Ash and I were together again, moving forward. Emmy was going to call me daddy at some point, I was fucking thrilled she was ready and rearing to do it already.

“I am,” I told Ash, like it was nothing.

“Did you tell her to call you that?”

Not in so many words, but I hadn’t discouraged it either. “No.”

“Has she said it before?”

“Once. She asked if I was going to be her daddy because she wanted me to,” I explained.

Her eyes got big and she was blinking fast, trying not to cry. I expected her to say it was too soon, that we should stop Emmy from saying it. I expected this to turn into a discussion we’d have to have later without an audience because she’d get worked up.

What I got was, “You sure know how to charm Thomas girls, huh?”

Fuck. Yes.

It was a deflection, but one she used to avoid admitting she loved that our daughter was calling me daddy.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ll both be Davies girls soon. But I’ll try to keep charming you.”

She gave a little smile and I kissed it off her lips.

Oh yeah, I’d fucking won.