Chapter 14
Worley
The last thing I want to do is leave club property, but I have no choice. Our world is, once again, in a million pieces. JB’s Roadhouse is, too. Broken pieces of glass break even more under my boots. The bar is trashed. Not beyond repair, though. Give us two to three weeks, and we’ll have the place up and running again.
“Anyone know what started it?” Shep follows me in.
Parker walks around the bar with a broom in his hands. “Dobbs and Colt said two of the Mavericks got a little handsy with some college girls and one of the servers.”
“And Bankz being Bankz.” I toss my hands in the air. That’s one hotheaded kid. “Why couldn’t that boy inherit his father’s personality? No, he’s gotta be like his mom.”
Shep gawks at me. “Are you saying Big Papa doesn’t have a temper and go off the handle at times?”
I can’t argue with that. “True, but it doesn’t go off as quickly as Lil Mama’s.”
“Good point.” Shep walks around the bar, helping set the tables and chairs upright.
“Have you been to the hospital yet?” Parker asks.
“Stopped by for a few minutes on the way here. Hendrix says he has everything there handled.” Hendrix met us outside since Bankz was asleep.
“He’s got Lil Mama handled?” Parker raises his eyebrows.
“Sheriff Bowers had to threaten to arrest her. Told her he’d hold her for 48 hours. She wasn’t leaving her son, so she settled down. For now,” I add. We all know she’ll start up again soon. I step past Parker, still surveying the damage. It’s a lot. “Two Mavericks did all this?”
Parker rests both hands on top of the broom handle and looks around. “That was my thought, too.” His eyes meet mine. “You might want to have Nick pull the security footage. The girls’ dates got involved, but it still doesn’t feel right. Something more happened here.”
A strange feeling crawls up my spine and settles into my bones. Something is off. The Midnight Mavericks shouldn’t be in Willow Creek in a Viking Warriors bar. Two men didn’t do all this damage. Jerrad Banks is insane, but he’s not crazy enough to trash his own place like this. Nick’s traveling with his brother’s team today. He’s going through the security footage when they stop, and he can catch a good internet signal.
The uneasy feeling grows stronger. Is something more at play here? The Midnight Mavericks picked a fine time to start trouble. We’re spread thin right now. I just can’t put this together. What brought the Mavericks here last night? I step outside to clear my head. I lean back against the front of the building. My mind just won't shut off.
It's in the high fifties today. Kinda normal for the middle of February in Tennessee. Most of the vehicles moving around right now are us. About half of Willow Creek is at church or sleeping in. That’s not a luxury I know.
Dobbs backs his truck up to the front. Colt hops out of the passenger side. They’re here to load up the broken tables and chairs. As I push away from the building, a car down the street pulls away and heads in the opposite direction. The weird feeling is back. I reach for my phone.
Just as I think it’s going to ring out, Nick answers. “Worley?”
“Hey, man. Do you have internet right now?”
“We just stopped for gas and a late breakfast. I can try. Whatcha need?”
“I’m at the Roadhouse. A black car just drove off. They were parked in front of the old hardware store.”
“If they stay on that street, they’ll come to Main Street at Angie’s. Hold on.” He’s quiet for a few minutes. “Well, well, well.”
“What? Who was it?” If it’s a Maverick, I’m heading to Chattanooga and busting them and their club up.
“I’m sending you a screenshot. It’s not photo quality, but it’s clear enough.” Voices shout behind him. “Gotta go, Worley. I’ll call you later.” He ends the call before I can say anything.
I open his text and stare at the photo. Well, this isn’t good. It’s not a Maverick, but it’s definitely someone who shouldn’t be here. Matthew Rhodes should be sitting in the front pew of his father's church right now, not on a back street near a club-owned business. A business that was attacked less than twenty-four hours ago. Unfortunately, no matter how much I want to go after the preacher’s son and demand answers, I can’t. The Rhodes family has a restraining order against the club. All I can do is stand here and stare down the street.
My phone dings with another text. I pull my eyes from the street to the screen. It’s not Nick.
Nina: Are you here?
Panic hits me like a brick wall. No one should be at The Haven House but her and Skylar. Forget texting. I hit the call button.
“What’s wrong?” I ask the moment she answers.
