“The drugs and the guns?”
A nod is my response; I am well aware of their involvement. When Dad was vice president, there were runs weekly to pick them up or resell them. After Mom passed away, I noticed more and more how often he had to go away for the club. At first I stayed at Kyler’s a lot, but later I was old enough to stay at home alone.
“We don’t do weapons anymore, Laynie and drugs a lot less than back then. But you haven’t heard that from me.” He makes a zipping motion with his thumb and forefinger in front of his lips.
My mouth opens a little, and for a moment I’m at a loss for words.
“I’m not saying everything we do is legit, but we have found other ways, and some of it is legal.” He drains his mug. “That’s really all I can say, because, well, you know the rules.” He gives me a knowing look. “It’s not like old times, and the club really doesn’t turn us into people we’re not.” Slowly, he slides off his stool. “I may like to wipe assholes off this earth or torture them a bit…” He chuckles. “But they didn’t turn me into a stone-cold killer.” He walks toward the door. “Thanks for the coffee, Laylay.”
“Brooks, wait…” But the door’s already closing behind him. “What the fuck was that?” I whisper.
It takes me a while to let the conversation sink in. I find it especially hard to answer the question of where this hatred for the club comes from. My father’s death played a part, but truthfully, it wasn’t related to the club. It was the love for Mom that destroyed him. Looking back, all I recall from the club is the feeling of warmth amongst everyone. It’s like having a huge family.
With a stack of plates in my hands, I stare across the field. In the distance, Kyler comes walking toward the house. He wears a tight black T-shirt under his new cut withprospecton his chest.
“Layne, put those plates on the table outside.”
A shiver goes through me, and I startle out of my daydream when Abby calls out to me.
“And stop drooling at my son.” A wide grin appears on her face, and she winks as she catches my gaze.
As quickly as I can, I set the plates down, and go back inside to get the rest of the cutlery.
When I step outside a moment later with the knives and forks in my hand, I just about bump into Kyler.
“Hey, Lay.”
“Does your cut fit well?” I ask jokingly as I set the plates down.
“Sure looks good on me.” He says it with a half smile and a tug on the leather. His gaze wanders to the table. “Set an extra plate. Your dad just drove into the yard.”
My heart skips a beat. “Dad’s back? Really?”
“Would I ever lie to you, baby?”
I push the cutlery into his hands and start running.
I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory. I remember how he smiled at me that day I arrived at the bar. At sixteen, I knew my dad’s drinking was getting out of control.
Mom had died a year earlier and Abby had taken me in as if it was a given. A lump formed in my throat. I should visit her, see how she’s doing. Something is still stopping me, though.
There was nothing wrong with this place, and if I’m honest, I don’t hate the club. It’s my irrational fears that have driven me away.
All the musing about the past has caused me to lose my grip on time.
I look for my phone, which I find on the nightstand. It’s two thirty, and I decide to call Teagan.
“Hey, girl. I have to work another two hours, but then we can have coffee. If you’re up for it.”
“Hey, um. I have a bit of a funny story,” I begin cautiously.
Teagan doesn’t seem to hear me. “You weren’t home yesterday, but I haven’t had time to call you yet. Shall we go to the bakery?”
“Teag, you’d better not go to my house again. It’s not safe. And I can’t come to the bakery either.” I sigh and run a hand through my hair.
“What are you talking about? What’s going on, Layne? Where are you?” Panic echoes in Teagan’s voice.
I swallow and grab a pen from the table. “I’m at Kyler’s. There were men trying to kidnap me and Ky and Pax happened to drive by at the moment. They saved me.” I click the pen on and off and on again.
