Cross

I sent the brothers in groups of fifteen to eight different locations today. They're each meeting a Viper's Bite MC exec, who will be handing over a warehouse of their weapons trafficking operation. I have twenty men with me, as I meet Tommy Morrison, the Vipers' new president, outside the gates of their biggest weapons storage compound in the hills just outside the town of Arbor. He's the man who made the deal with us to hand over their entire weapons trafficking operation in exchange for helping him free a group of their members from jail.

Viper's Bite MC has been an outlaw, one-percenter club for decades, but Tommy has plans to make their operations one hundred percent legit from now on. He started on that path by first betraying his club. Normally, I'd never trust a man who betrayed his MC to the cops, Hell, I might even kill such a man on principle alone. But Tommy not only got his MC to welcome him back, they also voted him the new president and now follow him without question, as far as I know. He only lost about twenty members in the process, and those are all dead now for what they did to Lily and those other women. The ones Tommy's right hand man, Ian Carmichael, didn't get to, I finished off. An example had to be made, a clear message sent that it’s not wise to mess with Devil's Nightmare MC, and I know how to send that message loud and clear.

But us actually taking over the most lucrative arm of their business, that's a different matter. Today we'll see exactly how far his men really will follow him, and if they are all willing to let go of their biggest earner.

Apart from exchanging a greeting when we met, Tommy doesn't say a word as he leads me into the compound. His face might as well be made of stone, it's that unreadable, but he looks determined and acts like he expects everything to go smoothly.

The concrete warehouse is pushed up right against a tall cliff, and encircled by a seven-foot brick wall. I have no idea what's waiting for us inside the warehouse, and even though I have ten guys surrounding the enclave, I'm not sure how much use they'll be. There's more than five hundred yards from the wall to the compound where we're headed, and more than twenty Viper's Bite MC members are flanking the path that leads to it.

Nine of my MC brothers are walking in a line behind Tommy and me. Scar, my best enforcer is walking beside me. He keeps glancing this way and that, sizing up the men overseeing our passage and giving Tommy hard, sidelong glances like he expects the man to give the order to attack at any moment. It's not like Scar to show nerves, but he's doing it, making the queasy, tight feeling in my stomach worse. And this queasiness never yet meant anything good.

My phone rings just as we reach the door of the compound.

It's a restricted number, but I halt and pick up anyway. Something might have gone wrong at one of the other exchanges, and that’d be a good thing to know before I follow Tommy into a windowless building. Tommy's standing less than a foot away from me, and grabbing him might give me a chance to get us out of here alive, if things are heading south.

"Yes," I bark into the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Whittaker," a woman says, taking me completely by surprise. No one calls me by that name. Apart from Tank, whom I've known my whole life, I don't think anyone alive even knows it. "My name is Roxanne Connor, I'm your daughter Lily's guidance counselor."

Of course. Lily's fucking school knows my real name. I had to give it to enroll her. But this isn't the same woman who called me a bunch of times last year, before I finally told her to go to hell in no uncertain terms.

"What happened? Is she alright?" I ask, the queasy tightness in my stomach doubling.

"She's been suspended for fighting, and I—"

"You're calling me for that?" I interrupt. "Deal with it, that's your job. And how'd you even get this number?"

"Lily told me this is where I can reach you," the woman says, and if my angry outburst shocked her, it's not showing in her voice. "I need you to come pick her up, and I wish to schedule a meeting with you so we can discuss her future."

"I'll send someone to get her, but no meetings. I thought I made that clear to you people,” I say.

The guys are already eyeing me curiously, wondering what the hold up is. The last thing I needed today was having to deal with Lily's school shit.

"It's in your best interest to meet with me," the woman says, not backing down an inch. "Tomorrow at 10 AM in my office."

I have no time for arguing with her. "I can't make it at ten. I'll be there at three."

"Fine," she says. "I will see you then. Goodbye."

She hangs up right after, and I call Rook, barking, "Go get Lily from school now, from a Roxanne Connor." He starts asking something, but I end the call.

"Can we go in now, or do you have any more personal problems to deal with?" Tommy asks. He might be at least ten years younger than me, but this kid has cold command down flat.

"Yeah, let's do this," I say, finding it difficult to completely disconnect from what that woman just told me. Or from the fact that I agreed to a meeting tomorrow. As if I didn't have enough shit to deal with this week.

Tommy leads the way into the bunker. Bright fluorescent lights are washing over boxes upon boxes upon crates of weapons.

"This is all yours now," Tommy says, spreading his arms wide to encompass the room. "It's our biggest warehouse and the best hidden one, but you're free to move it all to wherever you want it."

He motions for a surly looking old man holding a stack of papers to come over. He does, followed by a fat man wearing sunglasses.

"Dog will go over the inventory with you," Tommy says, pointing at the old guy, then turns to the one with the sunglasses. "And this is Johnny, our main supplier. Well, yours now. You two should become good friends."

I shake the man's hand, trying to look into his eyes, but I can't see shit through his dark glasses. I don't like working with anyone I can't look in the eyes. But I won't make an issue of it now.

"I'll stick around until you've gone over the inventory," Tommy concludes then walks over to the wall to let us get on with it.

Three hours later we're finally opening the last crate and checking the contents against the old guy's ledgers.

The sun is setting by the time we exit the building.

"The main customers have been informed that there's a change in management," Tommy says. "But I'll leave it to you to protect your claim. I'm handing you over the merchandise and the supply routes, but what you do with them is your business. Agreed?"

That's the real catch in this deal he's struck with us. He might have given us the whole operation, but that consists only of the weapons they've amassed, and contact with the suppliers and main buyers. It's on us to protect it against everyone who will want a piece now that the Vipers have walked away from it. And those are many.

But I'm not overly worried. I'll make sure Devil's Nightmare MC holds on to every last bit of it, so I just nod. “Agreed."

He extends his hand. "Then our business is done."

We shake on it. "I'd say thank you, but it seems somehow inappropriate."

"You're welcome," Tommy says regardless, then orders his men to retreat.

It's not until the last of the Vipers exits through the gate in the wall that the tension in my stomach finally lifts. Tommy stayed true to his word, and his men didn't mutiny, so the first part of this takeover went smoothly. Tomorrow, I'll start meeting with buyers and suppliers. My life would be a lot simpler this week, if I didn't have a wayward daughter and her bossy guidance counselor to deal with on top of all that.

* * *

Roxie

The phone conversation with Lily's dad left my hands shaking. He sounded so damn commanding and in control—and scary, angry and cold too—but I somehow managed to stand my ground. I understand now why none of the other women here wanted to call him though. At least I convinced him to come in for that meeting tomorrow. But discussing Lily's future was not the entire reason I insisted on it until he agreed. And that's so unprofessional I dare not even think about it, let alone acknowledge it.

Think you'll just fall in love with a biker and get your old life back, Roxie?

"Is he coming?" Lily asks excitedly, tearing my attention away from that jarring question that just flashed through my mind. Of course I think nothing of the sort. I'm never getting involved with another biker, and I'm never getting my old life back. I'm only doing this to help Lily, because it appears I'm the only one who can.

"He's sending someone," I say, getting up from behind my desk. "Let's go get your things and wait outside."

I need some air. And I need to get my head back on straight.

She pouts and storms out of the room, heading down the hall to the gym so fast I have trouble keeping up.

Fifteen minutes later she's changed from her gym outfit and we're waiting by the gate for whoever's coming to get her.

That same pickup truck with tinted windows her father drops her off in, arrives not long after. The frown lifts from her face for the few moments it takes for a very tall man with a shaved head to step out. For all his muscles, gruffness, and the fact that he's standing well over six foot five, there's an air of calm around him, which reminds me painfully of my brother. We called him Ice, because he was always able to keep his cool in any situation. That calmness of his drove me crazy sometimes, since I'm anything but a calm person. And now I feel bad for remembering that, because he's dead, and I'll never get to tell him how much I love him.

"What did you do, Princess?" the man asks Lily in a deep voice, which only adds to the sense of calm he gives off.

"Where's Cross?" she asks, tossing her backpack into the bed of the truck.

"He's working today, you know that," he says, his eyes finally landing on me. They trail up and down my body slowly before he finally meets my eyes. If he thought his blatant display of the fact that he'd fuck me in a second would faze me, he's wrong.

"I can take her?" he asks.

"Did her father send you?" I ask stupidly, since that is plainly obvious.

"Yes, he did," he answers.

"OK," I mutter and he just nods, then walks back around the car.

Lily's already sitting in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead, her face so tight, I know she's trying not to cry. It dawns on me that getting her father to come pick her up was probably the whole reason she started that fight today. I should probably mention that to him tomorrow at the meeting.

* * *

Cross

It's almost nine by the time I return to Sanctuary, and all I want to do is have a couple of drinks alone in my office and think for awhile.

But I'm not even done pouring my first drink before Rook walks in, not bothering to knock, as is his custom.

"Did it go well today?" he asks. If he resents the fact that I didn't take him along, his voice doesn't show it. But his voice, and his face for that matter, rarely shows much. It's his special skill. You never know what he's thinking until he acts on it, and his actions speak louder than words. It's one of the reasons why I made him my Sargent at Arms when I took over the club.

"It went better than I expected," I tell him truthfully and raise the bottle of scotch, eyeing him questioningly.

"Sure, I'll have one," he says, sitting down on the leather sofa and making it groan.

"Seems little Tommy has the reins of his MC well in hand, but other interested parties will be a different matter," I say, handing him a glass and sitting down in one of the armchairs. "The Vagos want the Southern Cali part of the Vipers' operation, and have done for years. They'll make their move now."

The Vagabundos are a mostly Mexican MC, backed by the Sinaloa cartel, and they're ruthless. We haven’t had a real run-in with them yet, since our turfs never bordered each other, but they do now.

"We can handle the Vagos in our sleep," Rook says, the mocking certainty in his voice pretty uncharacteristic for him.

"Yeah, I know we can," I say. "But it'll be a fight. And with Lily here…"

I don't finish the sentence, just let it hang in the air, since if I'm to keep Lily here with me, there's no way to really protect her from what I do.

"Speaking of Lily," Rook says, leaning forward on the sofa and setting his glass down on the coffee table. "And I'll preface this by saying that I will always treat her as my own daughter, but I will not act as her babysitter through this transition. My job is helping you, and you need me."

"I do need you," I say after a brief pause to find the right words. "But you're first and foremost a defender. That's your greatest skill, and you know it."

His green eyes turn very dark, it's one of his few tells, and means he's growing angry. He might be a calm man with a long fuse, but when it runs out, he's the most dangerous man I know.

"But that doesn't mean your job is babysitting my daughter," I add and chuckle. "We're riding down south to visit the Vagos tomorrow, and you're coming too."

He breathes a barely perceptible sigh of relief and leans back, interlocking his fingers behind his head. "Smart move, Cross. But now I suggest you go have a talk with Lily. She's been waiting for you to get home all day."

I don't respond, just lean back and finish my drink. He's right though. My daughter and her problems are not exactly something I can deal with in my own time. It's just one of those things no one tells you about having children beforehand. Not that I ever had many conversations about having children until Lily was just dropped off at my doorstep.

* * *

I took a whiskey with me and finished it on the way to Lily's room.

"Are you up?" I ask sticking just my head through her bedroom door.

She turns and glares at me, as if to say, "Are you blind?" but doesn’t actually speak.

She's still fully dressed, sitting on the windowsill and was staring out into the darkness before I interrupted her.

I walk in and shut the door behind me. "We already talked about the fighting in school, Lily. We said you won't do that anymore."

"That bitch Alicia was making fun of my eagle feather," Lily snaps. "She got what she deserved."

She's acting and talking almost exactly like I would at her age—or to this day, for that matter—and I don't see much wrong with it. But I get that other people see it as a problem.

"In this life, you pick your battles," I say, setting my empty tumbler down on her desk. "And school is not a place to fight. You will behave there and give them no cause to call me. I will deal with that damn guidance counselor tomorrow, but I don’t want any more calls from school this year. Maybe you should stop wearing that feather, if it's getting you into fights."

Her hand shoots to it, and her bottom lip is shaking. But then I literally see her steel herself, her eyes turning dark and opaque. "My grandfather gave me this feather to wear. He said it's my birthright, that I was born from the blood of an eagle, and that I should wear it always to remember."

"You can keep it in your bag or something," I say. "It's enough of a reminder there. You're not on the reservation anymore. People out here don't understand that kind of thing, and they will make fun of you for it. That's not how it should be in a perfect world, but there's no such thing."

I meant it as useful advice, but that's clearly not how she understood it, because her lip is shaking again and tiny tears are forming in her eyes.

"I don't care. I will wear my feather, and I will fight anyone who makes fun of me for it," she assures me in a shaky voice.

"If we're to do this, Lily, you're gonna have to meet me halfway," I say. "No more fights and no more problems at school. Those are my rules."

"Or what? You'll give me away too?" she hiccups as she says it.

"No," I assure her, but I paused and she heard it.

"You wanna know why I got in that fight today?" she asks, breathing hard. "I wanted them to call you. I wanted you to come pick me up, because I was afraid you wouldn't come back alive from whatever you were doing and…and…then I'd be all alone. Because my mom is never coming back, is she? And she doesn't want me anymore…and you never wanted me…and…and everyone else is dead."

I'm frozen in place. What I should do is try and comfort her somehow, but I have no idea how. I'm not the type of guy who can offer comfort to anyone and she picked one hell of a day to lay all this shit on me. She's just staring at me again, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"You'll always have a home here," I tell her, since it's the only one of her concerns I can address. The rest is anyone's fucking guess. I wish her mother would at least call once in a while, but it doesn't look like she's ever gonna. "I already said you don't have to worry about that."

I take a few steps towards her and reach out to stroke her hair, but she bolts to her feet and runs to her bed, plops on it facedown and starts crying for real.

"Don't cry, Lily. Tears'll get you nowhere in life."

"Just leave me alone!" she shrieks, and I think about it for a few moments before doing just that.

I'd meant to cancel the meeting with her counselor tomorrow, but I'm going. Because I'm starting to accept I might not be able to deal with Lily, and everything that's bothering her on my own.