Stone (Knights Corruption MC Series Book 2) (35 page)

Stone

It’d been my dumbass idea to bring up the topic of having a couple men accompany Jagger to his next fight, and apparently it had blown back in my face. Marek had told me the prospect’s next bout was fast approaching and he wanted me and Tripp to attend, reporting back anything we deemed unusual or of concern.

I tried to talk my way out of it, but it was part of club business so Marek wanted me to take an active role in our other source of income. Jagger brought in a pretty penny for us, winning every fight, no matter the size of his opponent. None of these fights were legal, which meant there were no rules. No consequences in case someone was seriously injured. But all the fighters knew the potential risks they faced as soon as they stepped into the ring.

Thankfully, Jagger was truly gifted, his speed and agility enhanced under my guidance and tutelage. Our sparring sessions, although fewer in the past couple months, were very beneficial for him. He was quick. I had a lot on my mind as of late, and the prospect took full advantage, striking when he knew I wasn’t giving our sessions my full attention. But it was all good. He was learning how to hone in on his opponent’s weaknesses, whether it be physical or mental.

“Stone, you with us?” Marek shouted, pounding the table to garner my attention. I’d been so lost inside my own head I missed the rest of what he’d said.

“Sorry. What?” I asked, leaning back in my chair while running my hands over my face in irritation.

“We keepin’ your ass from somethin’?” Trigger inquired, glaring at me from across the table, his arms folded tightly across his chest. The man was probably my biggest enemy these days, although he reduced the amount of times he gave me shit for messing with his niece. Every day he seemed to further accept the idea of Addy and me, our child the solidification needed for him to know I wasn’t going anywhere. But it was times like this when he chose to take advantage of his dislike for me. I didn’t care, though, because all I had to do was say something, which in turn pissed him off more.

“Yeah . . . your niece,” I fired back, leering back at him with equal intensity.

Sucking air through his teeth, he told me to go fuck myself before turning his attention back to the leader of our group. I grinned over my brief moment of victory.

Trigger and I loved to push each other’s buttons, but I just wasn’t in the mood for his antics right then.

Turning to face Marek, I nodded to indicate I was focused on the conversation once more.

“As I was sayin, Zip finally has some info on Yanez. Something I think we can use against him.” Motioning toward the young member, he waved his hand to give him the floor.

“Last night, I finally caught a meeting between Yanez and Psych. I have no idea what they were talking about, but I managed to snap off a few incriminating pictures,” he said, tossing a few of the aforementioned photos on the table for us to see. “There’s even one in there where they’re exchanging a black duffel bag for an envelope of what I can only assume is money.”

When the pictures finally made their way into Marek’s hands, he smirked, realizing he finally had the evidence he needed to meet with Rafael Carrillo about the fate of the cartel’s right-hand man. Marek knew Carrillo would kill Yanez after finding out the scumbag went behind his boss’s back and continued to deal with the Reapers.

It would come down to convincing Carrillo to allow Marek to have the privilege of snatching the man’s life, an argument I think my friend would win considering Carrillo knew what had happened to Sully.

A pregnant pause shrouded the room, all the men looking back and forth at one another, waiting for someone to speak and break the growing tension.

Frustrated with the lack of communication, something which was dragging out our meeting and therefore keeping me from getting home to my woman, I blew out a breath and leaned forward in my chair. “So, what’s the next move, Marek?”

Locking eyes with me, he said, “You and I set up a meet with Carrillo. On the side. Away from Yanez. It’s gonna be difficult, but I think we can arrange something soon.”

Damn it! Something else I didn’t want to do, but I knew I had to help my friend seek the revenge he needed.

Tapping my finger on one of the many pictures of Psych and Yanez, I asked a question I knew grated on Marek’s mind every single day. “You heard anything from Psych . . . or his club? I think it’s weird they haven’t tried to . . . you know.” My words drifted off, not really wanting to complete the sentence.

All the muscles in his body locked up tight, his fear and rage pouring out of him for all of us to witness. “I know.” He nodded. “And no. We’ve been watchin’, but nothing. I was shocked when Zip was able to capture these pics of Psych because the man has been virtually missing for the past few months.” Running his hands through his dark hair, he straightened himself before finishing his thoughts on the subject. “I’ve been waiting for him to come for her, but he stays locked away in the shadows. I know damn well he’s planning to attack, I just don’t know when.”

“Then why don’t we just attack them again and take him out?” Ryder offered, slapping his hand against the solid wood of our meeting table.

“Because we’ve been watchin’ their club and Psych is rarely there. I don’t care about the rest of them. All I need to do is take out the head of that fucking club, then all will be quiet.”

“Yeah, but what about Rabid? Psych’s VP?” Ryder kept on pushing the topic and I saw what it was doing to Marek, his face scrunching in irritation, although everything Ryder was asking was legit.

“What about him?!” Marek yelled. “The man’s not gonna do anything once his prez is dead. He doesn’t have the balls to come after us. That much I know for sure.”

He was right. Rabid was definitely a follower, not someone we had to worry about seeking vengeance for the death of his leader. If you could even call Psych that.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Ryder cocked a brow and tilted his head, letting Marek know he meant no harm with his questions. A simple nod from his prez let him know everything was good between them.

“Anything else we need to talk about?” Marek asked the group, looking from one man to the next. The table was full, everyone in attendance and eagerly waiting to hear what business had to be dealt with next. Fortunately, we were all on the same page when it came to the club, all of us realizing what had to be done in order to solidify our futures.

Just when I thought our meeting was over, Tripp spoke up, breaking the silence dancing around the room.

“I wanted to let you guys know that I’ll be heading out in a few days. I’m fully recovered now, and well . . . there’s no more need to be shacked up here any longer.” His eyes danced with appreciation toward every one of his brothers, including myself. Even though I hated the relationship between him and Addy, I knew he would never overstep his bounds where she was concerned. He viewed her like a sister, only goading me for a reaction when he was in need of some amusement.

Marek was the first to speak, beating us all to the punch. “Actually, Tripp, I’m gonna need you to stick around a bit longer. If you don’t mind.” Although it appeared as if our leader was asking, he wasn’t. He needed the nomad to stay put, for a reason he was about to divulge. “With everything else we need to take care of, I need someone to oversee Flings as well as the new club we have opening in a couple weeks. Pussy on tap, brother. Nuthin’ better, right?”

I knew what my friend was doing. He was enticing Tripp to stay with the mere mention of naked broads. Little did he know the nomad needed no such allure. He would stay simply because his president needed him to—nothing more, nothing less. I saw the far-off look in Tripp’s gaze when he thought no one was watching. He wanted to stay with us, but didn’t want to wear out his welcome. I was sure being a nomad was lonely, and his time with us had to bring out his need for brotherhood more than usual.

Tripp’s head jerked upward. “Whatever you need, Prez,” was his simple answer.

Adelaide

I felt like I was experiencing déjà vu, sitting across from Dr. Weber in his office. His attention was focused on whatever he was reading on his computer, glancing in my direction every few seconds. Why? I had no idea, but I had an awful feeling he was going to tell me something I didn’t want to hear.

Standing, he rounded his desk and came to sit next to me, much like he’d done when he’d initially delivered the bad news. My stomach dropped, fear coursing through me and preparing me for the next few minutes of my life.

It was funny how quickly regrets flashed in front of me, realizing I was about to be told something awful. Again. I wished right then that I hadn’t fought so hard against being with Stone, that I’d spent more time with my father, that I’d developed more friendships with the people I worked with, that I’d traveled more.

The list could go on and on if I let it.

Grasping my hand in his, Dr. Weber pulled my full attention before he parted his lips to speak. “Addy, your CA-125 bloodwork test came back a little higher than I would have liked to see after your rounds of treatment. While your levels are lower than before, I don’t think you’re out of the woods yet.”

His words became muffled the more he spoke, as I had no idea what CA-125 meant, and honestly I didn’t really have enough energy to care. I knew right then I’d made the wrong decision by not telling Stone about the appointment, needing his support more than ever. The air surrounding me suddenly became too thick, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest the more Dr. Weber continued to talk. Orbs of light clouded my vision, and if I hadn’t known any better, I feared I was about to pass out. Pulling my hand away from Dr. Weber, I gripped the arms of my chair, steadying myself while I tried my best to calm down. Taking slow and steady breaths until everything eventually came back into focus.

“ . . . and that’s why we’ll wait until you have the baby before taking the biopsies.”

His words shoved me back into the reality of our conversation, even though I’d missed the majority of what he’d just said.

“I’m sorry, what?” Leaning closer, I furrowed my brow, urging him to repeat himself.

“I know this is a lot for you to process, Adelaide, but you need to start thinking about what you want to do once your son is born.” Staring at the still-confused look on my face, he took a breath before continuing. “We are going to schedule an appointment after the birth, where I will take a biopsy of both of your ovaries, just to be sure. If you still have the cancer, like I suspect you do, we’ll discuss future treatment options. We can be more aggressive after you give birth, so at least we won’t have to worry about your baby’s health on top of yours. The only thing is that you won’t be able to breastfeed. Well, it’s not highly recommended, at least, not while you’re undergoing treatment.” Patting my hand, he finished with, “The good news is that your levels are lower than before, meaning you are not any worse off than you were before you started receiving chemo.” A small smile tipped his lips, trying his best to be positive during a meeting which was anything but.

Tears streamed down my face before I even knew what was happening, our conversation suddenly becoming too much to handle on my own. Dr. Weber passed me a box of tissues before patting my hand once more and walking around his desk to sit in his chair.