“Isn’t it always?”
We reach the lobby and Ronald turns to us with a smile. “This is where I bid you adieu, ladies.”
“Thank you for all your help today, Ronald.”
“Of course, Miss Dawson. I notified the valets we were coming so your cars should be out front.” We shake hands with the promise to be in touch next week to go over details before Jenna and I walk out into the bright afternoon sunlight where our cars are waiting just as Ronald said. I check my phone and let out a sigh of relief when I see the time.
3:45 p.m.
Brooklyn’s only been in daycare for about forty-five minutes and it eases my guilt over her being there at all. If I had it my way, she wouldn’t ever leave my side no matter how unhealthy it is.
“Bye, Quinn,” Jenna calls as she opens her car door and I wave as I open the door to the Maxima and climb inside. The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia by Reba McEntire is playing as I start the car and I start singing along as I pull away from the hotel and turn toward Brooklyn’s daycare, eager to see my baby girl again.
Chapter Two
Lucas
Gasping for air, I jerk forward in bed as my eyes fly open and sweat trickles down my cheek. Images from years ago flick through my mind and I pull my knees to my chest, squeezing my eyes shut until I see white dots dancing behind my eyelids. I try to fight back the memories but I’m assaulted from all angles and no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget. The smell of rain from that night is so strong that I would swear it was real if it wasn’t for the sunlight streaming in through the window and warming my skin. My stomach turns as I remember the clap of thunder that shook the walls of my bedroom just seconds before my whole life changed and I suck in a breath.
Fuck.
I can’t keep doing this.
Exhaling slowly, I let my legs fall back to the mattress and run a hand through my hair as I move to the edge of the bed and turn my focus to my phone on the bedside table. I grab it and pause when I notice the date in the corner.
Mom.
Gritting my teeth, I shake my head in an attempt to clear the memories and pain as I open my messages and let out a curse. The last three texts I sent my brother, Clay, remain unanswered and worry eats away at me as I grip the phone tighter and resist the urge to chuck it against the wall. Where the hell is he? My mind drifts to the last three places I’ve found him, each one worse than the one before and I wonder how long before I’ll be getting the one call I have been dreading for years. Anger floods my system, mixing with the fear that’s been a constant in my life lately and I toss my phone to the bed before dropping my head into my hands. My life is such a goddamn mess and I don’t have a clue how to fix it.
Yelling from downstairs grabs my attention and my head jerks up. I stare at the closed door of my bedroom for a second before throwing the covers off my legs and grabbing my jeans off the floor. The silence that follows is eerie and it makes every hair on my arm stand on end as I pull a shirt over my head and grab my gun from the dresser, inspecting it.
I first joined the Bayou Devils MC ten years ago when it was a true outlaw club, running guns, drugs, and anything else that would make us money. Carrying a piece back then was life or death. Looking back, it’s hard to believe that I used to be that guy but at the time, I didn’t care about anything but making as much money as I could. After everything I’d been through, I wanted that security. About seven years back, the club fell into chaos. Our president, Blaze, was shot and our brother, Henn, was arrested for selling drugs and is still locked up to this day. Everything changed after that. Blaze wanted to take the club in a different direction and I think in some ways, a lot of us were relieved to go legitimate after so many years of risking it all. But it still feels weird to not have a gun on me at all times.
Tucking the gun into my waistband, I grab my phone off the bed and open the door, scanning the empty hallway before stepping out. Voices drift up from downstairs and I follow them down the steps, stopping when I see everyone gathered in the bar. Moose is off to one side, leaning up against the wall and I join him, nodding my hello.
“What’s going on?” I whisper and he shakes his head before nodding to Detective Rodriguez as he sits in the middle of the room with his head in his hands.
“It’s Laney.”
The club first met Detective Rodriguez three years ago when he was a key player in a case we had a vested interest in and after some initial tension, we all realized that we could benefit from working together. We help him out when we can and he does the same for us when we need a little assistance. Most people balk at the idea of the police working with a group of bikers but with our new mission to help folks, it made sense to us and it’s served both sides well ever since. A few months ago, he called on us to help him keep watch over a woman who was being stalked. We only found out later that Laney, the woman, was someone Rodriguez was in a relationship with but that didn’t really matter to any of us. We helped her all the same and Rodriguez arrested her stalker only a month ago.
“What about her?”
Moose meets my eyes and from just a look, I know the news isn’t good. “She’s dead.”
Fuck.
“How? What happened?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t know. Rodriguez came home from work around eleven this morning and found her in a pool of blood in the kitchen.”
“Did Owen make bail?” I ask, referencing the man Rodriguez just arrested for stalking her. Moose shakes his head.
“Naw. He’s locked up tight.”
I blow out a breath. “Fuck.”
Moose nods in agreement and we both turn as Rodriguez stands and kicks his chair behind him. It falls with a crash but no one moves.
“It doesn’t make sense! I got the guy. She should have been safe.”
Blaze steps forward and slaps a hand on his shoulder as Rodriguez braces his hands on the table in front of him. “Are you sure you got the right guy?”
“Yes,” Rodriguez snaps, meeting Blaze’s eyes with rage lighting up his gaze. Blaze nods.
“Okay. We’ll help you figure this out, Diego.”
Rodriguez sinks into a different chair and releases a breath as his whole body seems to deflate. He and Laney haven’t been seeing each other all that long but he seems to have really cared about her. He pulls in a stuttered breath as he shakes his head.
“I promised her I would keep her safe and now she’s gone.”
Storm sits across from him. “You couldn’t have known, man. This is just a fluke accident.”
“Don’t tell me you actually believe that,” he growls, glancing up at Storm, who shrugs.
“If you’re telling us that you are sure you’ve got the right guy locked up, what else am I supposed to think?”
Rodriguez shakes his head. “I don’t know what the fuck to think.”
“We’re here for you,” Chance adds, stepping forward in silent support. “But obsessing over it right now, when it’s still so fresh, isn’t going to do anyone any good.”
“It can’t wait,” Rodriguez answers, his voice on the verge of breaking and I blow out a breath. Chance is right. I remember pain like that and there’s no way Rodriguez is thinking clearly right now but I also know how that agony fuels the drive to find answers. It’s enough to drive you crazy if you let it.