My legs react, and I hurry up the stairs to open the lock. When I get inside I immediately start searching for the things she needs. I put everything I found on the counter. “I’ll leave you two to it and will report to Dad what happened.”
“Good luck,” Pax says from his seat on the couch, Layne on her knees in front of him. The look on his face saysI warned you.
Rebel crawls into the corner of an armchair, her knees pulled up to her chin. I give her the remote to the TV, pat her head, and go downstairs.
“Goddamn it, Kyler,” my dad roars as I enter the bar. His tall frame fills the door of the chapel. His body’s still quite muscular for his age and his cut fits tightly around his shoulders. With fire in his gray eyes, he stares straight at me as he gestures to the chapel. He pushes his hand through his dark-blond hair, which is turning gray.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans, and put a cig behind my ear. I’m going to need it when I’m done here. Trudging after the prez, I close the heavy double doors behind me.
He sits down at the end of the oak table that has enough chairs around it for all the club members. My gaze slides over the various photos on the wall, showing former and current members. For a moment I linger on Layne’s father, before turning to the prez.
“They were taking her against her will,” I stated flatly. Inside, fire races through my veins, but Dad knows me inside out. Where others see nothing, Dad sees right through me.
His fist lands on the table with a bang. “I don’t give a damn. She’s nothing to us and we have nothing to do with her shit. She made that very clear to you ten years ago. An old fling means nothing to the club, Kyler.”
“So you just let a woman get kidnapped when you see it happening? Without saying a damn word? This is our territory, for fuck’s sake.” I lean casually against the wall, but my heart’s pounding like crazy.
“Kyler, she’s not your old lady. When the hell is that going to sink into that thick skull of yours, boy? She’s got no ties to the club and you’ve backed us into a corner over a fling. Pax got hit—”
“A graze. It’s nothing and Layne’s helping him.” I cross one ankle over the other.
“You’re not listening. You got the Renegades involved in a war that’s not ours to fight. For what? For whom? An old club slut?”
I push myself away from the wall, trying my damndest not to punch my father in the face, and lean on the edge of the table. “Dad,” I start, but cringe under his gaze. “It’s Layne and—”
He gets up from his chair and pulls me forward by my shirt. “I don’t care. I know it’s Layne and I know—”
“She’s Elias’ daughter.”
My father goes still. A moment later he says, “Elias is dead and Layne’s nothing—”
“Seriously, Dad? You would’ve let her get kidnapped? Who knows what they would’ve done to her. Elias is turning in his grave and you know it.” Little by little I regain my confidence.
“It isn’t the reason you did it, and you know it.” Dad runs his hand through his hair.
I turn around. “Doesn’t matter, we protect what’s ours and she’s the daughter of our old VP. Besides, she was on our territory, which means she’s entitled to club protection.” With those words, I walk out of the chapel.
Sighing, I sit down on the bottom step of the stairs and fetch the cigarette from behind my ear. I put it between my lips, searching my pockets for a couple of seconds before I realize I don’t have my lighter. “Dammit, I gave it to Layne,” I say to no one in particular. I rub my eyelids. When I open them, a lighter dangles in front of my nose. I look up, straight into Layne’s deep-brown eyes.
“Guess you need this?” She lowers herself onto the step beside me, and I take it from her. Immediately, I click it and hold the flame near my cigarette.
“Pax?” Eyebrows raised, I look at her and inhale.
She points upward. “With Rebel. I cleaned and stitched up his wound.” For a moment, she’s silent before standing up. With a soft “thank you,” she walks back up the stairs to my apartment. After I finish the cigarette, I step back down the stairs and mount my bike. I need to clear my head.
At dinner, we explain to Rebel who I am—a friend of Mom and Dad’s—and tell her she’s staying here tonight with Layne. When I get out of the shower half an hour later, Layne’s just getting up from the couch on which Rebel is lying under a blanket. She grabs a plate that’s left on the table after our dinner and she clears it.
“Never mind, Lay, I’ll do that in a minute.” I pull open the lid of the dishwasher and prepare to collect the dishes.
Layne’s already behind me, plates in hand. “Do you have another blanket?”
Nodding, I take it from her hands and put them in the dishwasher. “On my bed.”
There’s a snort. “I mean, for the lounge area.”
“Sleeps like shit and I don’t have another blanket. I promise to keep my hands to myself and stay on my side.”
With her arms folded under her breasts, she stands in front of me, my eyes lingering on the arm with the tattoo sleeve.
