Us (21 page)

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Authors: Emily Eck

Tags: #L&J#3

BOOK: Us
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Chapter 33 – J

I saw the moment shit got real in her eyes. She surveyed the scene in front of us—
Fatty on the ground lying in a pool of his own blood begging to live. I couldn't let him live, as much as I wanted to. He was a liability, and I couldn't have anymore liabilities when it came to my woman. A million thoughts were in her head, all reflected in the expression on her face. Her beautiful face that was looking at me with uncertainty, everything showing in her golden eyes. For a moment, I wondered if she'd changed her mind. Was it too much? Had she seen the monster and decided she wanted no part of it? Would she throw the ring in my face?

Her eyes grew dark. "Fuck it. Let's go," she said in an empty voice and headed towards the door, leaving me to handle business.

So I handled it, firing three shots into the man's head. One more black scar on my soul. Hopefully the last.

I shoved my gun in my boot and headed out the door. Chris followed Elle out, and both were waiting for me next to the SUV, the prospect having now moved to the driver's seat and pulled the car up to the front of the house.
Cash got in the passenger seat, Chris opened the back door, sliding into the middle seat, and Elle climbed into the back. I was about to get in behind her when I felt my shoulder start to burn. It wasn't Gramps though, it was the other shoulder, the one that was still healing from when I was shot in Mexico.

I fell to my knees, the pain stronger than before. My vision clouded, and I could've sworn I heard Burns
' voice.

"Give me my mon
ey, motherfuckers!"

"Get down!" Cash yelled.

Elle was pulling me inside the vehicle when I heard a gun shoot, the sound muffled with a silencer. I blinked seeing the prospect standing on the edge of the car, leaning over the hood. I could only see his legs, but I knew he was aiming over the SUV. Two more shots came from P.

"He's down. Let's get the fuck out of here," Cash directed.

"Where to?" the prospect asked.

"Head toward the clubho
use. I'll call Dig and get Doc over there."

"J? J!" I looked up at Elle's face. Light. Though dim, I saw light shining off of her.

"Baby."

"J, stay with me.
Take my hand. Squeeze my hand, darling."

I felt her put her hand in mine, and I think I squeezed it. I wasn't sure. "Baby, do you still love me?"

"What?"

"You saw the monster. Can you still love me?" The car was moving, and I could hear voices. All I saw, though, was my Golden Goddess. "Please. Just tell me."

"Yes, I love you. I fucking love you, but you have to stay alive."

"She loves me," I mumbled.

Although this was a fucked up situation, it was over. Everything was finally over, and I could start my life with Elle—if she'd still have me.

Chapter
34 – Elle

J was in and out of consciousness as we drove to the St. Louis clubhouse. What should have been a forty-five minute drive took twenty. I kept holding J's hand and talking to him, trying to keep him focused on staying awake—and alive.

Chris sat silently in the middle seat. She hated St. Louis. I knew bits and pieces of her life here, but there were things she didn't talk about, things she alluded to but never elaborated on. I let her have her secrets. I had mine. We both did. It's who we were, and why we worked as best friends. Unfortunately, I couldn't deal with that right now. My sole focus was on getting J to the clubhouse and to the doctor that was supposed to be waiting.

When we arrived, entering a parking lot much larger than in Kansas City, chaos ensued. There were bikes and SUVs littering the cement. We'd barely come to a complete stop before the doors of our vehicle were being thrown open, and two men were pulling J out of the car. They
carried him inside, cautious of his bleeding shoulder that I'd wrapped the prospect's shirt around. I sat in the SUV, covered in blood and unsure what to do next. Chris didn't turn around, instead facing forward. I couldn't see her, but I imagined she was in a bad place in her mind. St. Louis was the last place she'd want to be, but we couldn't drive all the way back to the KC clubhouse. It had to be St. Louis.

We were both still sitting in shock when Dig came around to the open car door.

"You ladies coming in?"

I eased out of the back seat and took Dig's outstretched hand. Once on the pavement, I put my hand out for Chris to take, telling Dig to let me handle her.

"Come on, girl. It's over."

She turned her head when I spoke, her eyes filled with terror.

"I can't be here," she whispered and turned back to face forward.

Fuck. I didn't realize how
bad St. Louis was for her.

"Dig... fuck. Look, St. Louis holds a lot of bad memories for my girl. I need to handle her for a second. Can
you get the prospect to take us to a room we can regroup in?"

"Of course. Do you need anything from me?"

I thought for a second, trying to sift through everything that had just happened and what I could possibly need or want. There were lots of things I wanted, but my needs were pretty basic at the moment.

"Are Fernie and Isabel OK?"

"Ya know I kept them safe. Both are in Kansas City. I got men over there watching them. The Zetas will be going to get Isabel once we debrief. Do you want Fernie brought over here?"

"No. I'm not sure how long we'll be staying. No sense having him moving all over. Can you have someone tell him to sit tight? It's not time for him to call his family yet. This shit's still raw. Is that cool?"

Dig pulled me into a surprising hug.

"Ya did good today. You'll make a fine old lady. I'll handle the boy. Don't ya worry about him for now. I'll let you know when Doc's finished with J."

I just nodded to him, still shaken by his outpouring of affection. Well, it was an outpouring for me, even if it was only a hug, and I assumed it was more affectionate than was normal for Dig. I took cleansing breaths, pushing all thoughts of the men I'd seen murdered in front of me, and focused solely on my girl. I slid into the seat next to her.

"Chris. Can you talk to me?" I took her hand in mine.

"I can't be here." She repeated herself, not offering any new information.

"I don't know exactly what's got you all shook up, but I have a clue. Trust me when I say you are safe here. No one from your past even knows you're here, and the brothers' got this place on lock. Come inside?" I spoke softly, but not with condescension. I knew whatever happened
in St. Louis was bad if Chris was acting like this. I'm sure seeing men die in front of us didn't help whatever was going on in that brain of hers either.

She silently turned her head to me and nodded. Still holding her hand, I exited the SUV. P was standing by the door so I walked with her into the clubhouse. There were brothers all over, as well as Zetas, all still armed and ready for a fight. I linked my arm with Chris' and followed the prospect up a flight of stairs. He lead us past a row of doors, a hallway that looked too similar to the one we'd just come from.

Fuckin' A.

"You can
wait in here." P stopped in front of us and opened a door. "It's Dig's room. There's a bathroom attached if you need it. I'll be outside the door." He was to the point with his words, and I merely nodded to him as he left.

I sat Chris on the edge of the bed.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" I asked her.

"Can you get me some weed?" was her response.

I nodded and poked my head out the door.

"P, can you get us a blunt?"

"I can get you a joint." That's right, we weren't in the hood.

"How about two? And no schwagg if possible. Is that cool?"

He pulled his phone out and stepped down the hallway. I stood there, unsure why he wasn't just going to get the weed. When Link showed up a few moments later with a bag full of joints, I realized he was serious when he said he'd be outside. I guess he really wasn't able to leave his post. Despite his age and scrawny stature, it felt good knowing he held such a high level of dedication to the job at hand.

Link came to me standing in the door.

"You need anything else?" He poked his head through the crack in the door to see Chris still sitting on the edge of the bed in zombie mode. "Alcohol, maybe?"

"No, just the weed. I'm sorry, she's not usually like this."

"You ladies just got kidnapped and watched men die in front of you. Her reaction seems normal. Yours is the one I'm concerned about. You haven't asked about J."

I took my glasses off and rubbed my eyes. I had successfully avoiding thinking about J and if he was OK until that moment.

Thanks, Link.

"This is how I deal, by helping those I love. I know J is in good hands. Right now, my girl needs me so that's what I'm focusing on."

Link ran his hand over his beard, clearly realizing he'd fucked up.

"I didn't mean to insinuate anything. Dig said you'd be a fine old lady. I guess he was right. Let me know if you need anything."

He started to walk away, but I called out to him. "It goes without saying you'll take me to J as soon as the doctor is finished with him, right?"

"Of course." Link's eyes were dark, like those of the man I loved, though they softened when he spoke. "And just tell P if you need anything."

I nodded and went back to my girl. I lit one of the joints and passed it to her. I wasn't really interested in getting high, but I knew Chris needed to calm down, and it was the only thing I could think of to shake her out of her St. Louis induced funk. I wasn't sure what all happened to her here, but it was bad. I knew that much. Her life hadn't been easy before she left, and the bits and pieces she'd shared had been enough to make me understand why this was the last place she'd want to be.

I let her smoke the joint, slowly watching her relax and slip out of zombie mode and back into some form of normal. Having her taken care of for the moment, my mind wandered to J. He was still with the doctor, probably having the bullet dug out of his shoulder. He'd lost a lot of blood in the van, something I was sure a prospect was going to be cleaning up soon. I didn't doubt J would be fine. It'
d take more than a bullet to the shoulder to break him. It was his standing with the club, how he felt about not getting to kill Burns himself, and the fact that it was a prospect who took him out in the end that concerned me.

I'd seen the darkness inside him, the monster he spoke of. It scared me, though knowing what he was willing to do for me, no matter how violent, was oddly comforting. I prayed to Gramps that this was the end of it, that he could be that simple mechanic and motorcycle aficionado he so desperately desired.

"I'm human again. You wanna tell me what the fuck just happened?" I looked up to see Chris holding the roach. "And do you got some water?"

I looked around the room, finding a half drank bottle of water. I held it up to her and raised my eyebrows.

"Fuck it. Lemme have it." I gave her the questionable water and she chugged the roach with it. "So?"

"Damn, girl. Tell me you're going to be OK first. I know St. Louis isn't your favorite place to be, but I can assure you that this clubhouse is probably the safest place for you. No one is getting in or out for a while."

"Well, I've been better. Coming back here brings back memories I'd much rather keep buried, but I feel you on the clubhouse. If what you ramble on about from your books is true, I'm pretty sure that no one's going to fuck with a bunch of bikers. It may take me a minute to digest the fact that I'm in the last place I ever thought I'd be returning to, but I'm good."

I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed. It was the most affection I could muster at the moment.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure what all happened back there. I know Burns is dead, that J and I are free. Whose house that was and why we were there is something I still need to figure out. I assume Burns hooked up with Fat Fuck. I heard someone say that the house belonged to a Cardinal, but ole Fatty was no ball player. I'm sure of that. I guess he was in bed with Burns. It's all I can put together. J's in "surgery" with a doctor and we're waiting this shit out for a minute."

Chris nodded, silently taking in all I had said. I knew it was a lot. Shit, it was a lot for me to wrap my head around. Burns was using me all along to get to J. I was a pawn, something I never wanted to be again. Something I needed to talk to J about when he was better.

"Is J OK?" I looked at Chris, her question honest and full of concern.

"I think his body will heal, I'm just not sure where his head will be at after all this. He questions us, like, all the time. I don't know if he realizes that I'm not going anywhere."

"You're not?" She didn't say it with malice, but true concern for me and my emotional standing. "Where's
your
head at, girl?"

"Fuck." I sat next to her on the bed and held up the bag of joints I was holding. "You good or you want another?"

"You smoking?"

"Nah, I'll wait until I can talk to J. I want my head clear when I see him, and that one hit I took to light it was plenty. I ain't smoked since the Wampa hat."

Her eyes grew big. "Seriously?"

"Seriously.
And that shit ain't schwagg."

"No it ain't. I'm kinda flyin' over here. Thanks. That's pretty much just what I needed. So spill. What
's going on in that head of yours?"

"You know, I feel like I should be freaking out. Like a normal human being would be running for the mother fucking hills after the shit we just went through. Funny thing is, after Mexico and what went down there, I feel kind of numb to it. I mean, the shit we just witnessed isn't going to be leaving my head any time soon, but—well, I feel relieved. I think it's over, more or less. The club is back to how it used to be before Burns."

"You mean there was a club before Burns? J wasn't always a killer?"

"Shit, girl, way to put it out there."

"Sorry." She put her hand on my leg and squeezed. "I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was that the club used to be different?"

"According to J it was. It was his life. He loved the club he patched into, the one he prospected for. But Burns took over shortly after he patched in, and killed J's mentor, the president of the club."

"Damn. So it was like soap opera style up in here?"

"Pretty much. Now they rebuild."

"That's heavy shit."

I just nodded, unable to find
appropriate words to express that although the violence was over, and hopefully the attempts on my life, a new situation was at hand. One that I still needed to talk to J about. One that we'd avoided discussing until after Burns was taken out. One that I thought was going to involve Dig, something I wasn't ecstatic about but accepted nonetheless. We both were going to have to accept one another since it appeared we were both part of J's life. At least I was a part of J's life and wasn't going anywhere. I had a feeling Dig would be a permanent fixture in our lives from here on out. I was going to have to reach some kind of middle ground with the control freak.

I passed the bag of joints to Chris. "I think these are yours if you want them. I can't imagine Link coming back for them."

"Link?" Chris took the bag and put her face into it, inhaling the scent of sticky icky icky.

"He's the president of the club in Kansas City. They're affiliated with MM, or are part of MM. I'm not sure how all that works."

"He's hot," Chris informed me, never one to be anything less than direct.

"Yeah. You should see his VP, Cash. He's the total opposite, though no less hot. A bit of a douche at times, but
they're both hardcore to be at the head of the table I suppose."

Chris lit up another joint, and leaning back against the headboard of the bed, I watched the wheels turning in her head. A knock at the door halted my next words which were about the man she was dating and if she needed to call him.

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