Home > Keeping The Biker (Royal Bastards MC : Charleston, WV Book 4)(7)

Keeping The Biker (Royal Bastards MC : Charleston, WV Book 4)(7)
Author: Glenna Maynard

“If you need me there, I’ll be there, but um you’re gonna have to stop touching me if you expect any work to be accomplished.” She twists out of my embrace and dumps the last of her orange juice down the drain of the kitchen sink.

“You riding with me or taking your car?”

“My car. I gotta meet up with Wylla and the girls later while you have your party.”

“Let’s move out then. I’ll follow you.”

Alexa parks on the street and I pull in the driveway. Immediately I order her to stay in the car, but her stubborn ass doesn’t listen.

“What’s wrong?” She slams her door and briskly moves through the lawn to where I stand.

“I told you ass in the car and lock them doors till I say so. Someone’s been here or may still be inside. Front door is open. Let me see that its safe first.”

“Okay. I’ll sit in your truck, honey.”

“I mean it, Lex. Stay put till I say it’s clear.”

She nods and climbs into the driver’s seat. I kiss her forehead and close the door, waiting to hear the lock engage. Once it does, I move through the garage to enter by way of the kitchen. Since I ended shit with Ruthie, I’ve been staying with my woman or at the clubhouse. My guess is whoever it was either knew I wasn’t staying here, or they targeted me and missed me. Either way I don’t believe it to be random. Therefore I’m not chancing Alexa walking in until I know there’s no imminent threat.

I ease through the doorway careful not to hit the weak spot on the floor that creaks. That’s when I spot the fucking prospect at my fridge his back to me rifling through the contents. “The fuck you doing?”

“Hey, Prez.” He turns around wearing a goofy fucking grin. “Had my grandma drop me off.”

“Jesus. Fuck. Why?”

“You gave me a key last week to start cleaning your shit or erm stuff out.”

“Right,” I mutter. I’d forgotten between all the shit on my plate. “Don’t be drinking all my beer.”

“I won’t.” He flashes me his teeth and cracks open a bottle. Fucking goofy ass bastard.

“Not a word to Alexa about last night.”

“Got it.”

I go back out to the truck and let Alexa know it’s cool. “Just the damn prospect,” I mutter as I hold the door open and give her hand getting out. “Forgot I put him on this.”

Her palm slides to my jaw. “Honey, you need to relax. You’re tense.”

“I’ll settle once shit is official. You having my last name. This house business over.”

Her lips tip to a smile. “It’ll all happen. Don’t stress yourself out so much.”

“I’ll always worry, babe. Comes with the territory.”

“Club business,” she murmurs.

“You get it.” Yeah my woman knows the score. Fuckin’ perfect Old Lady. Perfect every-fucking-thing. I kiss the inside of her wrist. “Let’s get this shit over with. Anything that’s Ruthie’s goes to donate or to the dump. Don’t give a fuck which. See something of Rochelle’s you think we need to hang on to tag it. Most my shit I give a fuck about is already at your place or the clubhouse.”

“Got it.”

Alexa and I set to work. I don’t want her lifting or doing anything strenuous, so she has sticky notes and a marker. I trust her to know what matters and what no longer holds any count. I go into the master bedroom and check the closet. Anything I wear is already in rotation between the clubhouse and Alexa’s. “All this shit in the closet can be donated. Start getting shit boxed and marked. I’ll call in some more men and get a truck to take it to the dump or charity.”

Rio nods. His dumbass should be home resting that arm, but he wants to work through the pain then whatever. I call Viking. “Grab Sandman and Hound and a moving van or truck. I’ve got a house full of shit I need cleared out. By next week.” I pause and wait for his yeah. “My place. Hurry it up.”

Alexa enters the room appearing a little pale. “Hey,” she whispers. “You mind if I keep this?” She holds up a purple fuzzy diary. Must’ve belonged to Ro.

“Whatever you want.”

She sniffs and nods. “Kay.”

“Let me get you a box.”

She looks to Rio. “What happened to your arm?”

“Got shot.”

I slap the back of his head. “What’d I tell you.”

“Sorry, Prez.”

“James?” my woman presses.

“He’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” The second the words leave my lips. The front living room window shatters. At the sound of breaking glass and gunshots I grab Alexa and drop to the floor with her, shielding her with my body. When the noise stops, I roll off Lex. “Stay here with the prospect. Guard her with your life.” He gives me a chin lift, and I’m moving down the hall. I step out the front door in time to see a black SUV speeding off.

I scrub a hand over my face as a couple neighbors peek out their doors. Bet they can’t wait till I’m off their street. I know I gotta call this shit in as much as it pains me to do so. I make the call. One of my neighbors beat me to it but at least it’s on record. Within ten minutes there are two units accessing the scene putting a halt to getting this shit sorted.

Alexa is shaken but good. Me? I’m riled the fuck up and want to put these fuckers down for good, but I’m trying to be a better man for my woman and our child that’s on the way.

Detective Masters strolls in with a smug smile. “Should’ve known you’d be involved.”

“If you’d do your job and get that scum and their product out of our city you wouldn’t see my ugly mug.”

His face reddens. “Street justice never solves anything.”

“Someone has to get a handle on this before someone dies.”

“Like your pal Nickel or Grudge was it? How about your ex-wife? Your woman know the danger she’s in? Next time it could be her.”

“My woman is none of your fuckin’ business. Do something about these punks or I will,” I warn.

“Outside,” he barks at me. “Need a word.”

“I’m done talking to you.”

“Five minutes.”

“Fine.” I follow him out.

“I don’t need you giving me shit on this, man. I know they are a nuisance so work with me on this. You said yourself you’re getting married this weekend. You want them to gun down your bride on your wedding day?”

“Watch it.”

“You and I both know it’s a possibility. All I am asking is for one name.”

“I’m no rat and if you were good at your job, you’d know who controls the drugs in this town.”

“Not much I can do without proof. Give me proof.”

“I can’t give you anything helpful. My club is drug free. My men know they come up dirty they don’t get help to kick the problem they’re out. No exceptions.”

“Where’s the wedding?”

“Why? You want an invitation?”

“I see a gorgeous woman in there who is terrified right now. I don’t want her blood on my hands. I’ll have a few cars on the street to make sure I’m not getting a call to pick up her body.”

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