Chapter 21

“Where the fuck are you, Wolf?” Storm stood outside a Thirty-Second hangout, hollering into his cellphone at his missing VP. “Shit for brains! I need backup and the name of your inside contact with the Thirty-Second.”

Head pounding like a son of a bitch, he was fit to be tied. Last night had been hell on earth trying to go to sleep without Mary Jane next to him. When the hell had that happened? Him needing her like a child needs a teddy bear to get a good night’s sleep.

He jabbed the disconnect button. Casting a disgusted look at the graffiti sprayed on the walls and the door, he was more determined to end the war before anyone else was killed. He sure as hell never wanted to see Mayhem territory marked up with that shit.

After a full-body shake to loosen up, he opened the door and walked in. The rap music pulsated through his body, jangling his nerves. He needed to keep his cool.

“Hey, asshole. Can you not read?”

A rail-thin youth stood near the end of the bar. Tattoos covered his neck and ran along his collarbone.

“I’m Storm Ryder, prez of the Sand County chapter of the Brothers of Mayhem. Tell Toro I’m here to talk treaty.”

At that moment, it was do or die. Storm was counting on curiosity winning out over stabbing and dumping his body.

He had to hand it to the dude; he didn’t bat an eyelash, but nodded and walked away. Two other Thirty-Second members rose from their chairs and stood a couple feet away with their arms crossed, glaring, the bulk of weapons hidden beneath their untucked shirts obvious even in the dim light of the barroom. As Storm had no plans to move an inch, he could only hope they weren’t too twitchy.

“You’re fucking kidding me!” The roar came from the back of the bar. Then the beaded curtain fluttered. It probably led to a rear hallway. In walked Toro. Five-ten and well over three hundred pounds, the leader of the Thirty-Second gang strode into the room as if he owned it. For all intents and purposes, he did.

“What are you doing here, Misty?”

Storm ignored the laughter. The asshole had always worked at ticking him off by poking fun at his name. There had been times Storm would go back at him with Hamburger, or when he really wanted to piss off the man, he called him Heifer. That usually stirred him up good.

“Ha-ha.” His sarcastic tone changed to seriousness. “We have some business to discuss.”

“All our”—Toro pointed to Storm and then at his chest—“business is dead.” He crossed his arms over his massive chest, eyeing Storm with distaste. “Raindrop, you should never come here without your boys guarding you. You could for sure get killed.”

“New business.” He was about to take credit for Mary Jane’s action, but if it helped save lives on both sides, what the hell did it matter who decided what? “I wanted to show truth in what I have to say.”

“Okay. Come back to my office.” Toro turned to head back to the beaded curtain.

“As you pointed out, I am alone. So here will be best. It’s simple and your boys can hear it.”

Toro stopped and faced Storm. “Okay.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Go for it.”

“I convinced Mary Jane to shut down the two stores in your territory. That should show we don’t want a war. I believe it’s time for you to provide proof that you wish for peace too.”

“The stores are already closed. Why so long in offering peace?”

“I’m here now.”

Toro’s jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“Sure. Tell me how we can have peace,” Toro said, lifting his chin toward Storm.

One thing Storm had learned over the years of being on the outside fringe of the club and later in the pen, Toro hated bikers but loved his people more. He planned to play on that factor.

“This is the solution…”

Storm leaned against the new clubhouse wall and inhaled the fresh air. Moving out of Brook Hill into Sand City, the seat of Sand County, had worked out good for everyone. With more mileage between the Thirty-Second and Brothers of Mayhem MC, there were fewer chances of run-ins. Sand City was larger but still small enough not to have its own police force. Deputy Jameson occasionally visited, and their arrangement worked out nicely. The Mayhem Brothers stuck to their business and the deputies to theirs.

As he slowly exhaled, a long stream of vapor filled the air. He tugged his leather jacket tighter to his body. The early-morning chill proclaimed the onset of the colder days and nights of late fall. Dew covered everything including the bikes lined up along the sidewalk. He walked over to his, taking a cloth from his pocket, and wiped off the film from the seat and chrome. His hand caressed the sissy bar. He doubted he’d tolerate another woman resting against his back. He probably should take it off, but his chest ached with the thought.

In the last month since Mary Jane had taken off to the mountains, he’d concentrated on pulling his chapter back together. He okayed women to enter the clubhouse again, but he avoided their offers.

“Hiding from me, boy?” Easy swaggered out into the parking lot.

His old man had wormed his way into the everyday life of the club. They were waiting for the Skull to show up. A call had been sent out to the Brothers. At noon, they would hold church and vote in new officers.

Storm cut his gaze over to the old man but remained quiet.

“You know they will be voting you out of office. No kid needs to run an organization like the Brothers of Mayhem. The scope and the power, it can be overwhelming. It’s a man’s job.”

“Does Speed know that you plan to take over the national seat too?” Storm squeezed his fingers into a fist. He wanted to punch the man.

“I didn’t say that,” Easy said, his sly look infuriated Storm. “The position of president for my old home chapter will be enough for now. Let’s go in and have a drink and talk.”

“You go ahead. I’ll stay out here and wait for Speed.” Storm pulled out a joint and lit it. He needed to relax and take whatever was decided. If he was truthful with himself, being president of the Sand County chapter meant little to him. He would be relieved to no longer worry about what to do next or how his decisions could affect the club.

Easy watched his face, as if he hoped Storm would get angry or break down and cry.

“I’m glad you’re taking this like a man. You’ve surprised me, boy.”

Refusing to let the man rile him, he took a long draw off the joint. The polite thing to do would be to offer a toke to his old man, but Storm leaned his head back and released the calming smoke into the morning air.

“I couldn’t care less what you think of me.” Then he walked off.

The old man was confident that the club would vote his way and he would take Storm’s place. Many of the Brothers hated that Storm had offered a treaty with the Thirty-Second without a church meeting and vote. A handful of Brothers lived in Brook Hill and hated the additional miles they had to go to the clubhouse.

Lazy sons of bitches.

Shit!

When had he started resenting his club? Maybe when it had interfered with what he wanted.

Mary Jane.

Damn, he missed her. His body hurt from all the missing. He bet the mountains were beautiful even with all the leaves off the trees.

Standing near a light post, he took another long drag. He refused to think of Mary Jane. When Speed’s crew rode in, Storm was remembering how the sunlight caused the strands of gold in her hair to glisten.

“I guess church is in session,” Storm muttered and flicked the joint off into the damp bushes.

Mary Jane finished straining the goat’s milk and handed the bucket to her mom. The older woman grinned.

“Sweetie, do you have to go back tomorrow?”

“I’ve neglected Jimmy’s business—”

“Your business.” Her mom’s eyebrows rose.

“My business.” Mary Jane grinned, nodding. Her mom had always believed in taking ownership, the bad and the good. “I promise to come back more often. I feel grounded when I’m here.”

Her mom reached out and smoothed the hair out of her face.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out with that nice man. He appeared to like it here. Deep inside, I think he wanted to stay.” Her mom hugged her neck and walked out of the barn.

Mary Jane closed her eyes as she tried to hold back the pain that slashed through her with the memory. Their time under the waterfall had been magical. Each vivid picture brought a solid need to feel Storm next to her. For the hundredth time that day, she wondered how Storm was doing. They had been separated for a little more than four weeks, and it was killing her. A week ago, she’d given into the urge and called him. He hadn’t answered and hadn’t returned the call. She liked to think it had been missed and not ignored.

With a shrug of her shoulder, she wiped the tear running down her cheek. She’d tried her best not to cry anymore, but all it took was an odd thought, sound, or smell, and her eyes would well up. The other day, someone had been smoking a joint and she’d become a human sprinkler.

Shaking her head at the silliness, she walked out of the barn, heading to the gathering house.

“Mary Jane.”

She stopped in her tracks and looked up in shock. Storm’s sister Cassidy stood a few feet away. Her husband, Thorn, looked around the area as if he expected danger to pop out any second. His scrutiny reminded her of how Cutter and Wolf had examined the surrounding land.

“Hey, Cassidy. Such a nice surprise.” She reached out and shook her hand. “What brings you out this way?”

The woman darted a look at Thorn before returning her attention to Mary Jane.

“So you haven’t heard?” Cassidy asked in a half wishing tone.

“No.” Mary Jane’s throat began to close up. She crossed her arms as if to protect herself from what Cassidy was about to say. “What’s happened to Storm?” She knew deep inside she would hear of Storm being shot or his throat slit.

“He’s in the hospital. He’s been kicked out of the club, and they beat him within an inch of his life.” Tears flowed down Cassidy’s face. Her husband wrapped his arms around her from behind and squeezed.

“Shh. They said they would call if his condition worsens,” he said in an even deep tone. “Chances are he will be out of the ICU by the time we arrive.”

Without giving it another thought, Mary Jane turned. “Stay here. Don’t move. Give me a minute and I’ll go with you.”

In no time, she’d grabbed her smaller overnight case with another pair of jeans and makeup. Cassidy and Thorn were waiting next to their SUV, talking with Mary Jane’s parents.

Her mom hugged her, and then her dad.

“Mary Jane, are you sure you want to get involved in this again?” her dad asked, concern evident in his voice.

“Dad, I never stopped being involved. I love him.” The words spoken out loud felt so right. Besides her parents and Jimmy, she’d never said those words to another human being before. Storm deserved to hear them too.

“Well, that’s it, then. You go and do what you need to do.”

She hugged him again and slipped into the SUV.

By the time they reached the hospital, Mary Jane was a bundle of nerves. The doctor had just left surgery from repairing Storm’s fractured leg. The doctor had said the boot print on the skin indicated that someone had stepped on it. Thorn had muttered that it had most likely been jumped on. They had to add a plate and two screws. He would need to keep it in traction for a few days. At the same time, they were keeping an eye on his punctured lung and broken rib.

She had a suspicion that Cassidy hadn’t told her all of his injuries, just giving her the major ones. She was glad. How in the world would she handle any more bad news?

A nurse in surgery scrubs walked into the waiting room.

“Ms. Savalas, you can come back and see your brother for a few minutes.” The woman gave an encouraging smile and stood by the door.

Cassidy quickly whispered to Mary Jane, “I’ll be back soon.”

Mary Jane wanted desperately to see Storm, but since she wasn’t family, that was unlikely. She would make do with any news Cassidy came back with.

In less than ten minutes, Cassidy returned. Her eyes were red and Thorn immediately pulled her into his arms.

Cassidy, her words muffled by her husband’s chest, said, “I told them you two are engaged. So they agreed to let you go back there for a few minutes.”

Engaged? Her heart jumped at the thought. Then reality hit her. That would never happen. Storm was a strong man. He would find a way back into the club. His sister had told her how hard he’d worked to become a Mayhem Brother.

“Thank you.” She followed Cassidy’s directions.

No one challenged her as she slowly edged around the medical staff’s station. She looked in between a couple of partitions until a familiar scruffy chin verified she had the right patient.

One eye swollen shut, his jaw puffed out with shades of purple and red, he turned his head inch by inch to look at her.

“Hey, Storm.” She clasped her hands together, forcing herself not to touch his dear battered face. Where could she, without hurting him? When he opened his mouth to say something, she leaned closer. “No need to say anything. I’m so glad you’re alive. We can talk after you’re better.”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead—seeing a spot—careful to miss the goose-egg-size knot near his hairline.

His wrapped hand shot out and clasped her wrist.

“Go home. Leave now,” he said with more strength than she’d expected though his words were muffled. One fierce gray eye shot angry warnings at her. “I told Cassidy I fucking didn’t want to see you. Go back to your fucking mountains. I don’t need you here.”

The tears flowing down her cheeks continued, but she jerked her hand away.

“I was worried about you. You can’t make me stop.” She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, but she wouldn’t be able to withstand the rejection. Had he changed that much in a month?

“You don’t think if I start hollering, they wouldn’t take you out of here?”

“Fine. But you can’t stop me from asking your sister about you. And don’t you dare be ugly to her. She loves you.”

He eyed her for a moment more. “I sure don’t deserve the tears. Go,” he said in a subdued tone. His eye narrowed, and he shifted his body to turn away. She heard a muffled groan.

Her chest tightened and her throat closed up. She wished with all her heart he would let her take care of him. That stupid pride of his continued to interfere. No matter how much she wanted to argue, he would need to be the one to give in. She wasn’t a beggar. Her parents had ensured she had the confidence to fight and stand up for herself, but love was an entirely different ball game.

“I…” She let her voice trail off.

“Miss? Time’s up.” A nurse frowned at her. She held a small tray with paper-covered syringes and small vials of medicine.

Mary Jane nodded and then looked back at Storm. He still gave her his back.

Without another word, she left.