Page 72 of Single Mom's Biker Brigade
The yard went dead quiet.
I lowered the rifle, ignoring the ringing in my ears. My hands tightened around the rifle as Hawk set his hands on his hips and dropped his head.
“Fuck, Colt.” He shook his head side to side. “You just told them we were watching.”
“They already knew.” I worked the bolt out of habit and set the rifle across the hood. “They sent it here, Hawk. They were watching us watch them. Whoever was on the other side knew damned fucking well that we saw them. If I’d let them go, it was like giving them a free pass.”
Hawk didn’t argue, which meant he’d realized I was right and was probably pissed he couldn’t argue with me.
Diesel jogged around the side of the house, saw the wreckage, and pulled up short. He stared at the busted drone, then Hawk.
Hawk pointed at the pile of busted components. “Figure out what you can.”
Diesel crouched over the mess and pulled apart pieces with his bare hands. He turned several over, checked the undercarriage, the camera housing, and then the battery pack.
I stayed beside the truck, willing my thoughts to focus on what I needed to do to protect my family instead of giving in to the consuming fire of rage that obliterated my rationality.
I had more to lose than ever. I’d ridden away once and it had cost me Callie. Never again.
The screen door screeched, then clapped shut.
They knew we were watching, and because I’d given in to my need to protect so quickly, they now knew how close I was to losing control.
Every breath hurt. My lungs tried to work, but my heart raced and a ringing in my ears caused my vision to spin. I could not lose Callie or my son.
I refused to let that even be a thought.
Callie crossed the porch and stopped at the steps, arms wrapped around herself. Her face paled. She must have realized what Diesel was taking apart. Her gaze slid to me, then the rifle I couldn’t bring myself to put away. A lift of her chin brought the shadows under her eyes into view, but she walked down the steps with a strong stride, not stopping until she stood next to Diesel.
“This isn’t hobby equipment.” Diesel lifted the camera from the housing. “This is a three thousand dollar camera.”
I didn’t think it was possible for Callie to get any paler, but she proved me wrong. Her voice came out clear and strong despite the way her body swayed like she might drop at any second. “Wade doesn’t have that kind of money.”
“This is bigger than your bastard of a stepfather.” I needed her to understand that once and for all. We were up against an entire club who, from the looks of the scorch marks on the side of the house, would stop at nothing to get that ledger. “This is organized and funded. And it’s a damn sight more patient than a man like Wade could pull off.”
I’d never met the man but from what Callie told us, and what I’d learned on my own, he was the fuck around and find out kind of guy who would rather do all the wrong things becausehe thought it would get results faster than approach with a fool-proof plan.
“No one rides alone until I say different.” Hawk called me back to the problem with his order. He met my gaze without apology or flinching. Same as always.
I nodded once. I wasn’t going anywhere. My running away days were long gone.
“I’m going to check on Cody.” I needed to see him. Needed to ground myself in the solid reality of being a father.
Some men might’ve questioned Callie about Cody’s parentage. I might not have the ability to trust many people, but that kid was mine through and through.
I left them to tear apart the drone and made my way past Callie into the house. Men sat in the open living room, concern on most of their faces. They didn’t try to talk to me as I passed. Probably because of the look on my face. I didn’t need to see it to feel the deep scowl that warned them off.
The door to Cody’s and Callie’s room was cracked open, the nightlight leaving a tiny beam of yellow on the floor.
I stopped at the door and pulled my face into a smoother expression that wouldn’t scare the shit out of my kid. He was tough, but he didn’t need me adding to his worry.
I pushed the door open and took a step inside.
Cody lay curled in the bed, his back against the headboard and his arms looped over his knees. He’d pulled his hood over his head and buried his face in the depths. He stiffened when the door creaked.
“It’s just me.” I broke for the boy in the bed that reminded me of myself at that age, and I hated that he’d been through so much. “Sorry for all the noise.” I crossed to the bed and sat on the edge. “You want me to get your mom?”
A tiny head shake, then his face poked out of the hood. He pushed the material back and down and tugged the strings side to side while sitting up. “Is it over?”
