Chapter Twenty
Van
The sound of my phone ringing wakes me from a deep sleep. I slowly open my eyes and see Ronni is still out cold. I stare at her, and warmth fills my chest. She is beautiful, so fucking beautiful. Her midnight-colored hair is fanned across the sheet, tangled, and sexy as hell. Only her bare shoulder is visible, but I can see the curve of her hip under the blanket, and that’s enough to have my morning wood pulsing with need.
Taking my eyes from her, I grab my still ringing phone off the bedside table. Before I can swipe my finger across the screen, it goes quiet. I look at it quickly, seeing I have two missed calls and eight missed texts, all from Walker and Brass. There is no doubt in my mind what they want to talk about.
I try to pull my arm out from under Ronni without waking her up. When I finally pull it free, she stirs for a moment, grumbling in her sleep, then curls into a ball and lets out a sigh. I can’t stop my lips from tipping up before I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
I quickly scan through the texts, starting with the ones Brass sent last night. Whenever you decide to get your dick out of that pussy long enough, I’ve got some info for you. Following that is one that says: I’m sending Taz to watch the house so Veronica doesn’t have to be alone. Finally, I see the one he sent just a few minutes ago. Fuck, dude. How damn long does it take to get your rocks off? Get your ass down here.
I move on to read Walker’s texts next. They are similar to Brass’s until I get to the last one. It is clear and to the point, causing a wave of uneasiness to crash through me. We have bigger problems than we thought.
Quietly climbing from the bed, I look at my phone again, seeing the time and blink in surprise. It’s nearly ten, meaning Cline will be here in two hours. Fuck, that doesn’t give me much time to get my shit done. My eyes move to Ronni, knowing I have no choice but to wake her up.
Sitting back down, I lay my hand on her shoulder and give her a gentle shake. “Need you to wake up, darlin’.”
She grumbles a bit before blinking her eyes open. “What time is it?”
“Nearly ten,” I answer, leaning down and sliding my lips over hers. “I’ve gotta head over to the club, and I need you awake before I go.”
“Why do I have to get up?” she asks, sounding more than a little pissed.
The look of aggravation covering her face causes my grin to turn into a full-blown smile. I kept her up most of the night, taking her over and over again. I fucked her until my body gave out. Even then, I held her close, running my hands over every inch of her body. I just couldn’t get enough of her. Even now, I have to fight the urge to slide inside her again. I doubt I will ever get enough of her body.
“Cline will be here around noon, and I need you to take care of her until I get home,” I explain, pushing myself off the bed and walking over to my dresser. “Taz is outside. He’ll get her from that bitch, so you don’t have to worry about dealing with Regina, but I want you to be awake when she gets into the house.”
Normally, when shit like this happens, I call Milly. She is one of the old ladies and has babysat for me off and on ever since Cline was a baby, and she’s enjoyed every minute of it. I never let it happen often, as Cline was only with me two weekends a month then. I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could, but sometimes, shit came up.
Milly is an older woman, edging up on sixty, and she loves Cline like she was her own granddaughter. She and her old man never had any children of their own. As soon as Cline was born, she doted on her and showed her more love than her actual grandmother did. Hell, more than her mother, too. Ronni is here now, so there is no reason to call her in.
“Okay,” she answers eagerly. “I can’t wait for her to get here.”
I pull out a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt. Quickly throwing them on, I slide my cut on and grab a pair of socks out of the dresser drawer. I pull them on before turning back and looking at her. She is now standing by the bed without a stitch on. Sunlight is streaming through the window, haloing her in its warm rays. Seeing her curves in all their glory, my cock thumps painfully against my zipper.
“I told her we would make homemade pizza today, so I need to make sure we have everything before she gets here,” she says, wrapping the sheet around her body.
Cline loves pizza, fucking loves it. She would have it every damn day if I’d let her. When Ronni mentioned making it last week, she couldn’t believe that you could make it at home. Just the thought had her smiling from ear to ear. I ran to the store and got everything they needed. When I got back, that excitement turned into tears and tantrums.
As Ronni was pulling everything out of the bag, she handed Cline a jar of olives and asked her to set them on the table. Somehow, the jar slipped out of Cline’s hand. My girl freaked the fuck out. I tried to calm her down, and Ronni tried to call to her, but nothing worked. By the time the tears stopped, we ended up eating sandwiches and vegging out in front of the TV.
“If you need anything, text me. I can pick it up before I come home,” I tell her, brushing my lips against hers once more. “Gotta go, darlin’.”
She deepens the kiss then pulls back and smiles. “And I have to get dressed.”
She pulls away and walks out of the room. She comes to a stop in the hallway, turning around to look back at me, and her eyes are shining with something I don’t quite understand. She looks at me for a couple minutes, her hand fisting the sheet she has wrapped around her.
“You need to know something before you go,” she says, an edgy tone to her voice. “I love you, Van.”
With that, she turns away and rushes down the hall. I’m stuck in place, my heart thumping painfully in my chest. I do not move a muscle, don’t even breath, until I hear the door to the guest bedroom shut. Only then do I follow her, still not knowing what the fuck I am going to say. A part of me wants to repeat her words, tell her I feel the same way. Another part of me is too fucking scared to open my mouth.
Just as I’m about to open the door, my phone dings. I look down and see another text from Brass. What the fuck, brother? You coming or what? My eyes look at the door for a second more before I head down the stairs and pull on my boots. I’ll deal with Ronni later. Maybe then, I’ll have enough balls to give her the words she needs.
My eyes land on Taz, sitting on his bike, as soon as I step out the door. I lift my chin to him, knowing he will keep an eye on shit until I get back. Then, I climb on my bike and take off. It doesn’t take me but a few minutes to get down to the clubhouse. I pull to a stop by the front door. Climbing off, I walk up the steps and inside.
Glancing in the common room, I don’t see either Brass or Walker. I keep walking to Tito’s office and open the closed door. Brass is lying on the couch in the corner, looking like he’s about to pass out. Walker is pacing back and forth around the room. Normally, the brothers wouldn’t come in here without our Pres’s permission, but the need for privacy is too important right now to talk anywhere else.
“It’s about fucking time you got your ass here,” Brass says, sitting up and running a hand through his blonde hair.
“Sorry, brother. I was up most of the night. When I finally fell asleep, I slept right through the phone ringing,” I say as I walk over and plop down in Tito’s chair.
“Some of us were up all night for something other than pussy,” Walker says, a half-ass grin on his face.
I send him a glare but otherwise ignore his comment. “I’m here now, so are one of you gonna tell me what you learned?”
Walker nods and sits down in the chair across from me. “Yeah, we got all the information we’re gonna get out of him.”
Brass pushes himself off the couch and walks to the desk. “Didn’t take much; he was scared to death. He spewed everything so fucking fast; it was hard to even understand what the fuck he was saying.”
Waking up this morning with Ronni in my arms, I don’t feel so bad about handing this shit to Walker and Brass. I did my part, even if it was different than what I originally thought it would be. The bastard was shitting his pants before I left. He was ready to spill everything. I’m sure the look of murder in my eyes may have had something to do with that.
“That man is the biggest fucking idiot I’ve ever met,” Walker says, bringing my attention to him. “He honestly thinks we’re gonna let him live after he tried to kill Tito’s daughter.”
I let him ramble on, even though I want to tell him to get the fuck on with it. I don’t give a shit what the asshole thinks, not one damn shit. I want to hear what he knows. Walker doesn’t keep me waiting before he starts telling me what they learned.
“The fucker paid some junkie in Chicago to try to take Veronica out,” he says with a slight nod. “The asshole is just some street slinger, only wanted a grand to kill her. He’s already told Miles he wouldn’t try again unless he got more money.”
I let out a relieved breath, knowing we can handle this shit. We can take a ride, put a bullet in the fucker’s head, and no one will even ask any questions. He’ll just be one less dealer on the streets, and not a fucking person will miss him.
“There’s more, brother,” Brass says, looking serious for once. “Miles owes nearly a million dollars to a loan shark in Vegas. Walker made a few calls. From what we gathered, this man is not someone to be trifled with.”
My stomach clenches, worry filling me. This was exactly what I was afraid of. I never doubted we could take care of Miles. The punk was never more than an irritation, same with the drug dealer in Chicago. This loan shark, though, he is a completely different story.
“The word on the street is that this man wants his money, and he has figured out he’s not gonna get his money from that dickhead. Now, he’s looking for someone else to pay the debt. That someone is Veronica,” Brass continues, crossing his arms over his chest.
Walker plops down in the chair across from the desk and pulls a joint from his pocket. “I happen to know this particular loan shark. Not really well, but I know enough to know that he is one cold motherfucker.”
Surprised that Walker seems to have connections to every fucking one, I ask, “How do you know him?”
His eyes go blank for a minute before fury fills them. “My brother was a fucking slave to the tables. He spent every cent he made on cards. When all his money was gone, he turned to the bastard for a loan. When he couldn’t pay it back, he disappeared. They killed him for five fucking grand.”
“Fuck,” Brass grunts as the same word slips from my own lips.
“Then, the asshole’s goons showed at my momma’s door. Taking my brother’s life wasn’t enough. He still wanted his money. If she had more than a junker car and a rented trailer, he’d probably have taken her ass out, too. Even so, they roughed her up. I ended up selling every fucking thing I had to get him to leave her the fuck alone,” he growls out, his fist tightening in his lap. “This man cares about money and nothing else. If he finds out we’re holding her, he’ll take our whole fucking club out to get his hands on her.”
Walker’s right—so right, I can feel the bile rising up in my throat. Five grand is pennies compared to what Miles owes. If he’d take out a man for that, he’d do any fucking thing to get his million back, even take on Riot MC.
“Not if I get to him first,” I growl, my voice hard with determination.
Brass nods, his eyes cold. “My thoughts exactly.”
“The only problem is getting our hands on him,” Walker says with a shrug. “It’s not gonna be easy, brother.”
He lights up, pulling in a long drag, and passes the joint off to Brass. We all take a few hits, trying to work this shit out in our minds. I run a million different ideas through my head, quickly dismissing each and every one.
Taking another long pull from the joint, I look at my brothers. “I keep trying to think of a way we can get Ronni out of this, trying to figure out a simple solution, but this shit has complicated written all over it.”
“I’ve always liked complicated,” Brass says, leaning against the side of the desk. “Simple is just too fucking easy for me.”
My mind goes to Ronni, replaying her sweet I love you over and over in my head, and I realize he is right. Complicated is a hell of a lot more fun than simple.