“I wiped his coordinates, but I’m not sure if anybody saw them before I found it, disabled it, and wiped it clean,” he admits.
“Then we reenact lockdown, nobody travels alone, and when the old ladies have to go to their doctor appointments, they go with a convoy,” Riptide edicts.
“In other words, nothing’s changed,” I input.
“They have,” Riptide disagrees. “We get stricter. We take no chances. Y’all hear me?”
“We hear you,” we unanimously say.
“Let’s just hope that Booker took care of it before they saw a damn thing. I don’t want any inquiries into the club, we need to tread lightly here, brothers.”
“Don’t we always?” I counter.
“I’m heading to the office to call Slayer, it’s time for him to come home,” Riptide announces as he pushes up from his chair and marches out of the catacombs. We all get to work, going behind our cleaners and making sure this place is spic and span. It’ll be next to impossible for someone to find this hidden bunker, but in case they do, we’ll have our tracks covered since we clean up after ourselves each time we end someone’s life.
“Sphinx needs to get gone,” I say, vocalizing what we’re all thinking but none of us are willing to voice aloud.
“I’ll talk to Rip,” Indiana says. “If he’s not meeting his maker, he needs to go to another club for some rehabilitation.”
“Rio?” I ask.
“He and his men would be the best men for the job. But that’s between Rip and his cousin to decide. We just need to make sure whatever choice they make, we stand behind them.”
“May there be mercy for his soul because if BamBam gets his hands on him, he’ll be begging for death. That man does not like it when the Kings are betrayed by one of their own.”
EPILOGUE
LoneStar
When I strollthrough the clubhouse doors and walk into the media room, I notice all of the old ladies have passed out on the sofas and Elodie has crashed on a pallet in front of the television. Reaching beneath Britton, I place one arm underneath her legs and the other behind her back, lifting her up and holding her bridal style against my chest.
As I go to walk up the stairway, Riptide comes strolling out of his office. I stand there until he locks the door and turns to face me. “No matter what, pres, I’ll never question you again. I’m here and will do anything to keep our family safe.”
“I know you will. Thanks, LoneStar,” he says, brushing past me and patting me on the shoulder as he walks away to get his woman. His shoulders are stiff and he looks like somebody’s kicked him while he’s already down.
Britton rouses in my arms, and as she becomes more alert, she blinks her eyes up at me and sleepily says, “You’re home.”
“Yeah, baby girl, I’m home.”
She lays her head on me and falls back asleep. No matter what happens in the future, as long as I have this at the end of the day, that’s all I need to keep me steady. She’s my anchor, my better half, the love of my life and I’ll do anything, fight anyone, to keep her with me. She’s carrying our future in her womb and I will do everything within my power to protect them both from any harm, no matter who the enemy is.
Throughout the night, all I could think about were the best ways to keep Britton and our little one safe and sound. It occurred to me sometime past four that with the club, publicly announcing her as my old lady will secure her with the Kings, but when it comes to the law, she needs my last name so that if anything does happen to me, she receives everything I have to my name. My money, my insurance, my belongings, all of that will set her up for life but the only way for that to happen is to put a ring on her finger.
First things first, I call the club’s lawyer and ask him to draw up a will leaving all of my worldly possessions to Britton, then I text Booker, have him get us a marriage license and set us an appointment at the courthouse for today. Then I send out a mass text to my brothers and let them know what the plan is. By the time nightfall comes, Britton will be legally tied to me.
I meet Jersey in the main room where I corner her and tell her my plan. “Seriously? A secret wedding that I’m supposed to get her dressed for but not tell her why? She hates dresses, LoneStar. How do you think I’ll be able to trick her into wearing one without explaining why?”
“If she doesn’t want a dress, then she doesn’t have to wear one, Jersey. I don’t give a shit if she shows up in a potato sack, as long as she’s there,” I snap. Then I realize she’s not the enemy and soften my tone, “Please, Jersey.”
Jersey gurgles, and I can tell she’s stupefied. “Dammit, LoneStar. I’m not sure if this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard or the stupidest plan you’ll ever have.”
“Lets hope it falls under the romantic category,” I tease. “Help me give this to her, Jersey. She deserves this.”
“Why the rush, LoneStar?” she asks, giving me an incredulous look.
“I’m marrying her one way or another, Jersey. The reasons don’t matter as long as she’s happy at the end of the day and no matter what happens in the future, she’s taken care of.”
“You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” she inquires.
