I don’t get the chance to say anything back to him.
I sleep in Tomi’s bed, my head buried in his pillow and his blankets wrapped around me so tight I can barely breathe.
Chapter Twenty Six
Tomi
We get the news as we ride out for the run that Speck has finally woken up.
Keely tells me they expect him to stay in intensive care for a full week, rehab after that because there’s shit going on with his lungs.
It’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders but also the rage in my gut has been stoked, knowing the kid who has always been like a brother to me is fighting for his life in there while the rats who’ve played a part are walking around in my clubhouse, drinking beer and having a good fucking time.
Makes a man ready to fucking throw down for his blood.
I tell her we’ll be home in a few days, which she already knows but I need to remind her to keep herself safe and secure while we’re gone. She’s used to Hawk and I fussing over her, Rue too but in his own grumpy ass way. I send him one last text about keeping an eye on everyone before we leave.
We ride through town to meet up at the rendezvous point Jameson picked out. He called Axe for their weekly football and beers call, and gave him the code so we knew where to find the container. There’s a lotta country dirt roads that barely get used out this way and the Unseen know every last one of them.
We pick up the cargo without a hitch.
Hellion drives the truck with Hawk out in front and Cole and I flanking it. King takes up the rear, all of us carrying enough firepower to light any fucker dumb enough to try and mess with us the fuck up.
That should all be a sign of a quick and easy night but I know there’s no chance that this is going to be a routine drop.
There's something wrong in the air.
Call it intuition, call it the Callaghan curse, I can feel it sliding across my skin like oil, coating the back of my throat until I feel as though I might choke.
It’s only made worse by the fact that Rue isn’t here too, because I may trust every member of my blood and brotherhood who’s riding here with me tonight but none of them know me like Rue. None of them can form a plan with me without so much as a word between us, barely a fucking look shared between us, and sometimes that is the difference between life and death.
I have someone to come home to now.
I have a woman who needs some fucking help. I might not know exactly how I can help her but I know deep in my fucking gut that she needs something only I can give her.
The roads are quiet as we weave through the town and it only makes the unease in my gut grow.
We get to the state lines and find Thorn waiting there to see us through safely. We’ve only had to use him once to run interference but it was fucking handy to have and the day that Thorn leaves the force and patches in, Coldstone PD ain't gonna know what's hit it. He raises one finger from the steering wheel in a salute and I nod my head as we pass through, the rest of the roads clear as we move.
We’re on the road for a solid ten hours, only stopping for gas and food.
We sleep at a shitty motel on the side of the highway. I’m convinced I’ll be walking outta here with fleas and Hellion refuses to get out of the truck. He just puts the seats back as far as they’ll go and passes out half sitting up. I’m jealous of him but he pulls rank on me when I offer to swap out.
Asshole.
The first thing I do when I wake up is text Angel.
I no longer give a fuck if this makes me a cuntstruck idiot, I’m twitchy as all hell about leaving her when my skin is fucking crawling in warning.
Something is going to happen.
I just need to keep my fucking eyes open and my mind on the fucking job.
I slept in your bed last night. I dreamt about you instead of the other stuff.
Hawk is snoring exactly half a foot away from where I’m laying on this shitty single bed so I will not be thinking about those words coming outta that magic mouth of hers, the one that can swallow every fucking inch of me right down to her throat and sucks down every drop of my cum like she needs it to fill her belly.
Fuck.
Take the night off. Stay in my bed and spend the day fucking yourself on my sheets. I want to come home to the smell of your pussy all over them.
King gets up and hits the bathroom first, grunting like he’s fucking dying or something. Hawk is still snoring through everything and Diesel is out on the last shift of keeping watch.
I think for a minute she’s going to ignore my demands but then my phone pings.
I can’t take the night off but I hope this will do.
She’s sent through a photo of her fingers buried in her pussy, her black panties pushed down to her knees and the black fabric of my hoodie pushed up her belly. Fuck, I want a video of her fingers pumping in and out of her sweet, honey lips and the soft fucking mewling sounds she makes right before she comes.
King stomps through the room, yelling out, “I’m going for a fucking coffee, get your asses moving. Hawk! Wake up, asshole, we’re not at fucking Disney.”
Well, if that doesn’t chase the fantasy away nothing will.
Wear the black lace when I get home. Wrap that pussy of yours up like a present for me to open because it’s all I fucking want.
Another full day of riding before we make it to the drop off point in Montana and I’m fucking convinced by the time we get there that something is going on back home. This feeling can’t be for nothing but the roads are clear and there’s nothing out of the ordinary the whole fucking way.
I mute my phone as we get into Monarch.
The drop is happening in the national park, lots of cover and remote enough for the buyers to be happy about it happening in a different spot. King picked it and only the men here tonight knew where we’re heading.
We arrive first, that’s all part of the plan, but the curse is screaming to me at this point. I almost wanna power my phone back on and start fucking calling, work my way through the list to know my family is fucking safe.
I’m sick to death of these fucking cunts.
When I swing off of my hog I glance over to Hawk and decide that tonight is going to fucking hell. His face gives away nothing but he only locks down that tight when his gut gives him the warnings that something is up.
It’s not just my own frustration at leaving Coldstone.
It's gonna be a messy fucking night.
Hawk grunts at King and then takes off, checking the clearing out for any obvious signs of traps or something that screams Demon but there’s nothing.
This whole fucking trip might be for nothing, a routine drop off that tells us fucking nothing about what’s been going wrong.
“Why’d you pick this spot?” I murmur to King, keeping my eyes on Cole.
He was the best choice for this trip. We needed the extra person but with Speck down for the count and Rue being in charge we had to bring another brother. The only other person I trust is Axe but he’s watching my girl while Rue is busy.
I would be truly fucking shocked if Cole was a rat.
He’s another ex-military brother. A veteran who was left behind by the service when his PTSD got out of control, he and Axe joined the club at the same time and have always kept their heads down and answered any fucking call we’ve had for them. Cole went from barely being able to stay sober and keep a roof over his head to having a family, a house, and a fucking brotherhood thanks to the club.