Strays (Red Kings #1) (21 page)

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Authors: Emma Kendrick

BOOK: Strays (Red Kings #1)
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Nights were unbelievably peaceful in Lakeside. The local businesses closed up early and folks were having dinner and preparing for bed by eight. The silence was disturbed only by an odd car or motorcycle headed down the street, the drivers hurrying to get home.

 

The only place open until late was Vic's Auto Garage, more specifically the Red Kings clubhouse. Parties there often lasted until the morning sun peeked through the clouds, and sometimes even that didn’t stop the crowd’s fun.

 

Not this night though. The garage was quiet and the clubhouse deserted, a few of the club members gathered around a black van that was parked in the lot. One had to look really closely in order to spot them, the darkness covering them like a blanket.

 

The five men were all dressed in black and weren’t wearing their cuts, wanting to avoid any signs that would immediately identify them.

 

“You got the guns?”

 

“Yeah, of course I do,” Johnny replied in exasperation.

 

“Good.” Jagger chuckled. “We don’t want this thing getting away from us.”

 

“Don’t get too excited,” Vic warned sternly, staring particularly at his eager sergeant. “We’re going there to educate and teach them a lesson, not to start a war.”

 

“You got it, boss.” Waiting for his brothers to get in the back of the van, Jagger thumped the remaining man on the back, catching him by the collar and steering him away and towards the front passenger's seat. “No, no, prospect. You’re riding in the front with me.” He grinned and jumped into the vehicle. “Time to teach you how we do things around here.”

 

Tyler smiled back hesitantly, both excited and terrified at what the night would bring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

27

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

July 7

 

Nash settled himself at the bar as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his leather cut. He smiled at the name that flashed across the screen before flipping it open. “Hey sweetheart.”

 

“Hi, Nash. Is this a bad time?” Jackie asked hesitantly on the other end of the line, nervously fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

 

“Nah, I'm glad you called. How you holdin' up?” He glanced over at the tattooed biker playing pool on the other side of the room. “Everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine.” She paused and Nash could tell there was something on the tip of her tongue. “I uh... I'm sorry I keep dragging you into the middle of this. I know you probably shouldn't be talking to me-”

 

Nash snorted, catching Dean's attention, and continued speaking into the phone. “Babe, I can talk to whoever I want. I told you to call me, I meant it.” It didn't take the other man long to realize who was on the phone and he rolled his eyes. These people weren't making their separation any easier to handle, especially since half the charter had been in contact with the woman since she'd left.

 

“Well, I had some exciting news, and since there aren't many people that know about the baby, I don't have anyone to share it with.”

 

“Except Bianca.”

 

Jackie's eyes narrowed as she thought her suspicions were confirmed. “So you did tell her?”

 

“I didn't need to tell her. She'd pretty much figured it out for herself when I called her.”

 

“Oh god, are you the reason she's been glued to my side all of a sudden?”

 

“I may have asked her to keep an eye on you.” This statement peaked Dean's interest as he lazily dropped the pool stick on the table. Arms crossed against his chest, he leaned against the wooden structure behind him and listened intently to the one-sided conversation.

 

“Well, that bitch dragged me to the doctor.”

 

“Good,” Nash replied, satisfied at the progress, but careful not to give too much away to the man staring at him intently. He only wanted to bait the trap; it was up to Dean to see it through. “And how'd that go?”

 

He heard her grumble on the other end. “It was fine,” she admitted reluctantly. “Great, actually. All the tests came back normal. I uh... I got a picture of the baby.”

 

“I can't wait to see it,” he said genuinely, imagining a little half-Jackie, half-Dean combination running around causing mayhem. “The picture and the real thing.”

 

“I think the fact that I'm having a baby is finally hitting me. Like I'm gonna have a child and I'll have to take care of it for the next eighteen years.”

 

“You freakin' out?”

 

“Obviously. But... I'm also kind of excited. It'll be the adventure I always wanted.”

 

“Not quite how you imagined it though, right?”

 

“Again, stating the obvious. But what's done is done. I just have to move on.”

 

“That's funny. Dean said the same thing, and he sounded as full of shit as you do.” This earned him a glare from the man still watching him and probably also from the woman on the phone. These two were fucking perfect for each other.

 

“This is what's best for both of us.”

 

“Yep, he said that too,” he replied, smirking at Dean as he took a step forward, wanting to intervene and end the conversation, but also wanting to know what was being said on the other side.

 

“Well, then clearly we're on the same page-”

 

“On the same page of the wrong fucking book.”

 

He heard Jackie sigh as she seemed to give up on the argument, something that she rarely did when she'd been living in Georgia. “How's he doing?” she asked quietly, part of her wanting to hear that he'd been steadily plowing through the line of available women, but the other part knowing that would rip her to pieces.

 

“Not good. He got into a fight with Murphy the other day. They're still not speaking.” Dean quickly closed the distance between them, the look on his face daring Nash to say another word against him.

 

“You say that like it's my fault. Dean wanted me gone. I'm not an idiot, I know he got Tyler transferred after that crap at the garage, knowing that I would go with him.”

 

“Oh, I'd say you two are equally to blame for all of this shit. Now one of you just needs to grow some balls and call the other.” Nash stared directly into Dean's eyes as he said this, the challenge clear in his tone of voice.

 

“I want to, Nash. You don't know how badly I want things to go back to the way they were before all of this started. I would give anything for that to happen – for me to never have gotten pregnant, for Dean to not kill people, for us to not be where we are. But I did get pregnant and Dean is a killer. Nothing is gonna change that.”

 

“You don't need to change anything. You just have to work around it.”

 

She sighed again and rubbed a hand across her eyes. “Look, just work your Nash magic and tell Dean to quit being such a dick to his best friend and go deal with his shit. I'm sure he'll be just fine.”

 

Nash grinned and turned his attention to the still-angry tattooed man in front of him, not bothering to cover the mouthpiece on the phone. “Jackie says you should quit being such a dick to Murph and go deal with your shit.” He got the two reactions he was expecting, as Dean clenched his jaw tensely and Jackie began to rave at him on the other end of the line.

 

“Has he been standing there the whole fucking time?! I can't believe you, Nash!”

 

“Don't worry, darlin'. As much as he'd love to know what you've been saying, he's only heard my side of the conversation.” Dean rolled his eyes at this and turned on his heel, storming out of the clubhouse and into the bright sunlight filling the lot. “He says hi.”

 

“No he doesn't.”

 

Yep, like two peas in a pod these two.

 

Outside, Dean's line of sight quickly landed on the previously mentioned blonde, who was busy at work in the garage where Dean himself should have been. He sighed and pulled out a cigarette before reluctantly making his way over to the man he hadn't spoken to since the fight a week prior. Leaning against the set of drawers behind him, he lit the smoke as he watched Murphy fiddle under the hood of a Honda Civic.

 

“You come over here to punch me again?” the short-haired biker asked, his tone snide but also understanding as only Murphy had the ability to be.

 

“Nah,” Dean replied, taking a drag of the cigarette and kicking his shoe absently at the floor.

 

“Good, 'cause I'd feel bad kickin' your ass again so soon.” Dean snorted, but said nothing in his defense of the lighthearted jest. “Pass me the socket wrench, will ya?” He complied with the man's request, and just like that, any animosity between them was laid to rest. They were quiet for a few moments, content to simply be in each other's company like the best friends that they were. “You okay?” Murphy asked finally, cutting a glance out of the corner of his eye towards the other man.

 

“Fantastic,” he replied gruffly, offering no detail. Murphy raised a brow at him, but Dean spoke again before he could say anything. “Don't.”

 

“Don't what?” he asked innocently, sticking his head back under the dark blue hood.

 

“Don't say it.”

 

“Say what?”

 

Dean glared at the childish tactic and refused to fall into the trap of bringing up the one thing he didn't want to talk about.
Walk away now,
he tried to tell himself.
Before you get sucked into yet another conversation you don't want to have.

 

“The only thing I was going to mention...”
here we go,
“...was that I think we should go out tonight. Strip joint, bar, wherever you wanna go, man.” Dean squinted cautiously at the man who avoided eye contact by pretending to continue his work on the car. “It's just that you haven't really been out with the guys in awhile...”
since Jackie,
“...and you should come have some fun with us.”

 

He'd fucked other women since Jackie had left – blondes, Asians, even a redhead. He'd enjoyed his new single status to the fullest extent, the women flocking to him in waves now that he was once again on the market. But they had all been found around the clubhouse, women that came to him, sought him out.

 

Despite having nothing to stop him, Dean hadn't been out with the boys to enjoy all that Macon had to offer in the form of strippers and easy, drunk females. He hadn't walked into the clubhouse in search of anyone to warm his bed, only accepted offers thrown his way.

 

The one he wanted, craved, was long gone.

 

“I've got some shit to do tonight,” he muttered quietly, now the one avoiding eye contact. “But maybe this weekend.” Dropping his cigarette butt on the ground, he stomped it out with his boot before throwing a quick farewell over his shoulder and heading towards the office to find some work to keep him busy.

 

Murphy smiled cockily to himself, glad to hear that his friend was still just as hung up over the woman as she had seemed to be when he'd last talked to her. Both also seemed very adamant to not mention each other if they could help it, but Murphy just saw that as a challenge.

 

Game on, bitches
.         

 

“Hey, Dean,” he called to the man that had just re-entered the garage. “You should call Jackie.” Dean rolled his eyes and kept walking, hoping it would shut the blonde up. “Seriously, call her.”

 

“No.”

 

“Call her,” he said more insistently, setting his tools down on the bench nearby in anticipation for this conversation heading in a more physical direction.

 

“She's the one that left,” Dean said darkly, pausing in between the garage bays to stare down the other man.

 

“You're the one that sent her best friend to another charter.”

 

“She didn't put up much of a fight to stay.”

 

“You didn't put up much of a fight to make her stay.”

 

“Do you want me to punch you again?”

 

“You mean, do I want you to
sucker
punch me again?” Murphy took a step closer, a smug smile on his face as he spread his arms at his sides. “If you think that's gonna solve anything, go for it, bro.”

 

Dean continued to glare at the man for a minute before huffing and walking off to another bay, frustration coursing through his body. 

 

 

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