A reason for all of this is forming in the back of my mind, but I can’t seem to pull it together in a way that makes rational sense. “Maybe whoever it is needs it done before something changes. Maybe before I get pregnant with your child or God only knows what.”
Mac’s head comes up. “You think somebody’s running a clock on you?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him, frustrated that I tried to talk about it before I figured it out.
“Goddamnit,” Mac mutters under his breath. “You’re both right. This can’t be random. Maybe it’s related to Vulture’s will and maybe it ain’t, but we’ve got to protect what’s left.”
“Mac’s right. We need to make it so they can’t get to anything you own,” Mica grinds out.
“We don’t even know who it is,” I say. “So, how can we stop them?”
“We lock down what’s left. And then we start investigating this fire ourselves. Where did that fifty-gallon oil drum come from? Where did they buy the gasoline? We go over the chopper shop with a fine-toothed comb and anything that looks out of place we crawl all over it.”
Mac drags his hand through his hair again. “You’re handling this the way Vulture would. He would say grieve your losses later, work now.”
“Yeah, that sounds like my gramps,” I tell him.
I’m shocked when Bran steps out from behind one of the fire trucks and moves towards us. “Hell of a mess,” he says, stopping just close enough to join the conversation without being invited into it.
“You got here fast,” I say.
He shrugs one shoulder. “I just had dinner at the Salty Dog Pub. I heard the ruckus and thought I’d come and have a look-see.”
Mac glances at him sideways. “Aren’t you supposed to be confined to the clubhouse until you’ve worked off your punishment.”
Bran shoots him a proud look. “Queenie gave me the night off. She said I’d been working hard and deserved it.”
“That sounds like my ma,” Mica retorts sourly. “She tries to see the good in everyone.”
As if he’s trying to change the subject, Bran asks, “Anyone see who did it?”
Mica’s eyes immediately narrow on him. “What makes you think someone did anything. Maybe it was a wiring problem.”
Bran’s eyebrows shoot up. “You don’t think it’s connected? To the fire at the trucking company?”
Mica deadpans back, “What makes you think that fire was intentionally set?”
He holds Mica’s gaze for a second and then takes a step back. “I only know what people say,” he says. “The club girls love to gossip.” Before any of us can respond, Bran turns and strolls back the way he came.
Mica mumbles, “I do not trust that fucker any further than I can throw him.”
“Me either,” Mac agrees. “He’s way too fuckin’ interested in what’s going on in Nova’s world to suit me.”
I think about how Bran is always lurking around the perimeter of my world. He always approaches when no one else would dare and asks questions that go right to the heart of the matter. Before I speak to any of that, Rock and Jasper rush up with Onyx and Slate flanking them. Mica takes a few seconds to bring them up to speed.
“Maybe this isn’t about Nova at all,” Jasper says, keeping his voice low. “If word gets out that we can’t protect our own territory, every club in the region will start trying to take it from us.”
Rock nods once. “Somebody always tries but our job is to hold the line.”
The expression on Mica’s face tells me he’s sickened by the thought of me getting dragged into conflict over territory, the one thing that doesn’t have anything to do with me. My responsibility was to keep my grandfather’s businesses going. Territory is what Mica and his family are after. Maybe whoeveris doing this wants the territory and thinks the easiest way to get rid of Mica and his club is to destroy his wife’s living.
Shock roils through my gut, and I walk down the sidewalk a bit. I think that I’m subconsciously trying to get away from the heat and the noise. I need a minute to just breathe and deal with losing another piece of what my gramps built.
Mica follows without crowding me, leaving his family to talk with Mac.
His arm slips around me, and he pulls me to his chest. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I let the warmth of his big body warm me up.
I catch sight of someone moving in my peripheral vision. Along the outer edges of the crowd, I see Bran standing outside the main cluster of people. Like always, he’s looking at me with a blank expression on his face. I realize what Mica meant about him being creepy and untrustworthy. I turn back towards Mica and don’t look Bran’s way again. I need to stop worrying about Mister Creepy Pants and get back to the task at hand.
