Chapter Eleven
Ryder
"You told him that his son is pregnant?" Ryder said into the phone, trying very hard not to scream. Not only would that make his words loud enough for his mate to hear, but he was speaking with Roscoe and it was always best to show other pack masters the same respect you want. Unless they were dicks.
But Roscoe wasn't a dick. He was just caught in a hard spot.
"He's going through something, poorly, I may add," Roscoe said. "I know he doesn't have an issue with your age gap, he's never been anything but kind to Sawyer and respectful towards me. It's that it is Chuey. You know how it is, never being able to see a person for who they are now. Only who they were."
Ryder grumbled because Roscoe was almost making sense. Not in a way that made Ryder understand Logan's decision to not visit is pregnant mate. Especially since, while Chuey never mentioned it, he knew it made him sad.
That was unacceptable. The bell rang, and Ryder came out from the back to the front of the bar where Chuey was showing Thorne how to set a rabbit trap. Apparently, the two of them had bonded over their love of hunting. Ryder was glad for it. His mate needed friends. The hybrids in his pack were all trying their hardest, but Ryder couldn't make them all be into the same things. His mate didn't enjoy some of the things the hybrids did, and they certainly didn't understand a lot of what Chuey did. But they tolerated and accepted each other, and Ryder was just going to have to be fine with that. Fritz walked in with a stack of mail in one hand and two cases of liquor bottles in the other.
Ryder rushed forward to help him. "Who are you showing off to?" he asked. "You break one of these and it comes out of your cut."
Fritz let Ryder take the boxes. "We got to talk," he said quietly.
Ryder didn't know why anyone ever bothered whispering. It wasn't as if every single person in that room had enhanced hearing. Oh wait, it was. At Fritz's urgent whisper, every shifter and hybrid in the room looked in their direction.
"Orion, lock the front door. Meeting," Ryder said, finding Chuey's eyes.
He hopped up off the barstool and skipped over to Ryder as if he had called his name.
"Probably better if he joins this time," Thorne said. "We still have primer left."
Ryder checked Chuey's face before chuckling. "Come on, you," he said, his eyes going down to the smallest, most precious baby bump that ever existed. Seeing it never ceased to make his heart swell and his dick hard. It was like Chuey was a walking, talking billboard, proof of Ryder's virility, and as caveman as the notion was, he fucking loved it.
They gathered in the back room, Ryder at the head with Chuey in a comfortable chair beside him. "Fritz?" he prompted.
"I was getting the mail, stopped by the gas station—"
"Did you gather us here to tell us about your day?" Zeke interrupted.
"No, dickwad," Fritz shot back. "I gathered us because I overheard talk at the gas station. Marcos plans on hitting the dispensary. I just didn't hear when."
Ryder, and every other person in that room, sat straight. The dispensary was their golden ray of hope. Without it, they were in a lot of trouble. "Tell me exactly."
"I don't think they saw me since I had gotten gas and then parked on the side so I could take a piss," Fritz began. "When I came out, they were in one of the aisles talking it over. Apparently, he knows that it takes one of our men to outfight ten of his so he's waiting for some weapon that is supposed to level the playing field. Then, the plan is to hit the shop and wipe us out. One of those, if we can't have it, no one can situations."
Thorne cleared his throat. "What I'm wondering is why our supposed informant didn't tell us of this plan. Doesn't sound like it's brand new."
Ryder had similar questions. He pulled out his phone and texted Cassius.
"Hey, Bro…" He used their keyword that meant, is it safe to call? His phone buzzed the next moment as a call came in. Ryder answered the phone and put it on speakerphone mode, setting his phone in the middle of the table.
"Hey, I'm at the hotel. This place is a shithole, but it's secure. What's up?"
"What's up is you not doing your job!" Fritz said before Ryder could get a word in.
"Shut the fuck up, Fritz," Ryder growled. "One of our men overheard a plan, is this ringing any bells?" Ryder walked a thin line in this conversation. If Cassius was an enemy then he didn't want to let on just how much they all knew. If he wasn't then Ryder had to say enough so that Cassius knew what he was talking about.
"A plan?" Cassius parroted. "Something new?"
"Aren't you supposed to be the one telling me?" Ryder barked.
There was only silence on the other end for a long moment. Suspicion crept up Ryder's spine. "Sorry, I just got a text from him. Says we're meeting this weekend. What did you hear?"
One look at his men and Ryder knew that they all felt the same way. Trust was something earned, and Cassius simply hadn't earned any yet.
"Nothing, we'll talk later."
"Ryder, wait. I know I'm on speaker, I can hear all of you breathing."
Everyone but Ryder and Thorne sucked in their breath at once.
"I'm not saying there isn't a plan, I am saying I didn't hear anything. The last thing I heard about was that he was waiting for a shipment of something. Not drugs, because he would have told us. Whatever is in the shipment, it has got him very excited."
"And when were you going to tell us?"
"When I had something to tell! What was I supposed to say? Marcos is expecting a package? It could just be his monthly essential oil order."
"His what?"
"Never mind. I don't know how many times I can say that I am on your side. If you would let me, I'd leave now and join your side, but I kind of get the feeling I need to bring a gift, like some three kings bullshit."
Ryder smiled at that and was glad Cassius couldn't see his poker face breaking through the phone. "Fine. I hear you. We all hear you."
Behind Ryder, Chuey mumbled something.
"What's that, baby?"
"Tell him to go to Maggie's," Chuey said more loudly. "Her inn is much nicer. The last time that guy changed sheets where he is staying was never."
Ryder turned to the phone. "Did you hear?"
"I heard, thanks for the tip, hun."
Ryder growled, and Cassius laughed, proving he'd used the endearment only to rile him up. He hung up without saying goodbye but was sure that probably only made Cassius laugh harder. Trustworthy or not, that hybrid was a whacko.
"What's our play?" Thorne asked.
Before Chuey, Ryder might have come up with some crazy scheme. Crazy schemes only sometimes worked and often failed in a heap of fiery ashes. "Triple security on the dispensary. We open in three weeks. At that point, we'll be like Saunders, insured. Marcos can take whatever he wants as long as I can get it back."
Ryder expected the wave of grumbling he heard. He was acting against his natural instinct that told him enough was enough, and it was time to bust down Marcos's door and put an end to all this. He wasn't just thinking about his pack, though, or even about himself. He was going to be a father. He was a mate. Perhaps it was time they all slowed down.
"If you're all just going to complain, then get back to work," Ryder barked, and they all stood, shooting him glares of varying intensity. When it was just him, Thorne, and Chuey in the room, Ryder released a long breath. "So this is what it feels like to face a mutiny."
"They wouldn't dare," Thorne replied. "They're restless is all. We've all been laying the foundation for our pack for some time now, and now they're ready to see the fruits of their labor."
All work and no play was making his men agitated.
"There's an end in sight; we'll just have to show them. Not tonight though. I want all our men at the dispensary. If Marcos attacks tonight, we'll be ready for him. Let Zeke stay here to watch the bar, but I want everyone else over there." Ryder's phone beeped again. This time, it was an alert from the security system he'd installed in his cabin the week before. "Mate, why is Garth at our front door?"
Chuey popped up. "Garth?" he asked excitedly.
Ryder sighed. His day was getting better and better.
***
They found Garth sitting on the front step of the cabin. He carried a large box that said, baby stuff. When Garth saw Chuey, he actually stopped scowling for a whole three seconds. Then his eyes landed on Ryder and the scowl was back.
"I was hoping it was all a joke. April wasn't so long ago."
Chuey didn't respond, he simply wrapped Garth in a friendly hug.
Ryder continued into his house. He wasn't the type to tell his mate who he could and couldn't be friends with, even if he really wanted to. But he wasn't going to stand around while his mate manhandled another man.
"So, was I right?" Ryder heard Garth asking Chuey on their porch.
"Right?" Chuey replied.
"That daddy thing. Does he put you to bed at night?"
"Of course, but we go to bed at the same time, so he puts us both to bed," Chuey replied, entirely missing Garth's subtext.
Ryder couldn't help his chuckle. That was why those two were such good friends. Chuey didn't understand half the mean things the guy said.
"Does he give you a bottle and change your diapy as well?" Garth snarled.
Ryder was on his way to charge out to the porch when his mate responded, "Jealousy does not suit you, Garth."
Whoa. Talk about a burn.
"Whatever!" Garth sputtered.
"If you're both finished pleasantly greeting each other, I can make us some dinner. Garth, will we have the pleasure?"
Chuey came in through the open door, one hand holding his belly that wasn't quite big enough to hold. It would be, and Ryder couldn't wait.
Garth stumbled in behind him, dropping the box with a loud thump on the floor.
"I hope there's nothing breakable in there."
"There isn't," Garth replied. "It's from the pack," he said to Chuey. "You know, the pack you were a part of. Are you, like, a biker now?" Garth asked.
"No, but my mate is. It isn't weird for me to stay with him," Chuey replied. Ryder changed his mind from his earlier assumption. Chuey wasn't friends with Garth because he didn't understand his rudeness, he was friends with him because his mate was a Zen master. "If Padre wanted me to come back, then he would be the one dropping off this box. Not you."
That was Ryder's cue. He couldn't handle the edge of sadness. "Is that a card?" he asked, nodding his head to the envelope sticking out the top.
"Yeah, Jack put it together. He made everyone sign." Garth handed Chuey the card and he opened it, his lips already turning up as he looked at the image on the front of a stork carrying a baby through clouds.
Chuey tapped his finger on the image. "This is not how it happens," he said, and it was one of those times where Ryder didn't know if he was telling a joke or being serious.
Garth, however, laughed. "You don't say. Here, this is where I signed," he said, folding the card open and pointing to the bottom corner.
"Padre did not sign," Chuey said with a heavy sigh.
"He didn't," Garth conceded. "But this box had half as much stuff in it before Logan got to it. He went crazy. It's why I'm just now bring you this."
"You aren't too late," Chuey replied but with a smile that meant Ryder had to start appreciating Garth.
While Ryder prepared them a dinner of steak stir fry, Chuey and Garth caught up. Soon, they were laughing, and Ryder had to step in only once when it looked like they were about to wrestle and his heart about jumped into his throat. In Garth's defense, it was Chuey who had been about to wrestle Garth.
"Dinner's done," Ryder called out, setting the table for three. He dished their plates, putting extra peanuts on top of Chuey's since that was how he liked it.
The three of them sat down and Garth dug into his food, swallowing it down in true bear shifter fashion. Bears were notoriously messy eaters. Not his Chuey though. Surprising, considering his upbringing. But Chuey was a slow eater, and Ryder and Garth would likely be on thirds before he'd finished his first plate.
He did finish, though, and Ryder announced there was also ice cream if anyone had room.
Garth, who had been teasing Chuey that now his belly was bigger than his, perked up. "I could eat some ice cream," he said. "Chocolate! Do you have whipped cream?"
Chuey's eyes lit up. "Do we?"
Ryder shook his head but, in the end, he made his mate a sundae with chocolate ice cream, caramel sauce and whipped cream. The only thing it was missing was—
"Next time, pick up cherries," Garth said.
Ryder growled but stopped when he caught sight of Chuey's silent plea. "Of course, my oversight," he said instead.
Chuey scooped up his last bite and then leaned back. "That was good, thank you, da—" He froze, looking from Garth to Ryder with wide eyes.
"Oh yeah, you're right, it's weird," Garth said first. "But, I mean, if you get a dinner like that every night, maybe I need a daddy."
***
Later that night, Ryder was in bed watching Chuey sleep. He knew how weird it sounded. He also gave zero fucks on that issue. He didn't think he would ever tire of watching his mate sleep. He would scrunch up his nose at random moments and then, when he was really sleeping hard, he would purr. Normally, the purr was what eventually calmed Ryder and lulled him to sleep.
Tonight though, there was too much on his mind. His phone pinged, and he slipped out of bed, not wanting the light of the screen to wake Chuey up. The blood rushed out of his face when he saw that it was the silent alarm, but not the one installed at the dispensary, the one at the bar. Ryder quickly pulled up the images from the security feed at the bar and nearly dropped the phone. The place was trashed, worse than it had been before. He could see someone had spray painted something on the wall but what he couldn't see was Zeke. He had to have tripped the silent alarm though.
Ryder called nine-one-one before shaking his mate awake. He wished he could have let him stay in bed, but there was no way Chuey was going to be out of his sight.
By the time they made it down to the bar, he could hear sirens in the distance, as well as motorcycle engines. He'd told the pack to split into half and return. His hands were shaking with anger so bad that it took him a few tries to get Chuey's buckle snapped properly.
"I can do it," he said gently, but if Ryder couldn't even buckle his mate's helmet, then what was he good for? He obviously couldn't protect his pack or their assets.
He didn't even see the mess. He couldn't, not until he found Zeke. He stepped behind the bar inside and there, on the ground by the register was Zeke, blood pooling around his body. He looked like he had been shredded by a wild animal, and yet, when Ryder approached, he stirred and moaned softly. "Hold on, Zeke, the cops are coming. Chuey!"
Chuey came around the bar, gasping when he saw Zeke.
"Stay by me," Ryder ordered, and Chuey nodded.
By the time the ambulance came and left with Zeke, the pack, half of them anyway, was all there. The only thing keeping them from riding down to Marcos's garage at that second was the police that Ryder had called. That had been a joke. They'd shown up and had said it looked like a hate crime, then, they'd looked meaningfully between Chuey and Ryder, as if someone had trashed the place because they were gay.
"We are telling you who did it. There's footage!"
"We'll collect all the evidence and—"
"Conveniently lose it on your way to the station," Wilder growled.
He wasn't wrong. These two cops couldn't have been dirtier if they'd rolled in mud. They were all safer with them gone.
"Thank you, officers, but there are no tapes. If you're done, we need to clean up our business. Again."
"Why did you tell them there weren't tapes?" Wilder asked.
"Because it wouldn't have made a difference, and before any of you get any ideas, no one retaliates. Not until we know what we're up against."
The door burst open and everyone was so on edge that they lunged toward the intruder. Orion and Fritz grabbed Cassius as he burst inside.
"Fuck, fuck, shit," Cassius said when he got a look at the place. "I just found out, I couldn't reach you on your cell and—"
"Just get the fuck out of here, Cassius," Ryder grumbled. "We're going to the hospital. It isn't shifter friendly, and those doctors are going to have some crazy questions pretty quickly."