Chapter Ten

Laurel

“I don’t know why he asked for you to be there, Mother.” I ground my teeth while I drove up the mountain to the Sons of Hell compound. All I knew was that I got a text from Nikoli, stating that I needed to bring myself and my mom to the clubhouse today at noon.

“I have a busy schedule today,” my mom griped as she flipped through her big ass wedding binder.

God, I would be so fucking happy when this wedding shit was over.

I just couldn’t with her anymore.

I was at my wit’s end.

After Kai and I left the clubhouse last night, every cell in my body screamed at me to go back and get Nash. That my son needed me. It took everything I had not to turn my car around. I didn’t sleep for shit last night, because every horrible scenario that I could think of plagued my mind, and I even think I invented a few new ones.

Being a single mother was no joke.

I had to be the mom, the dad, the friend, the disciplinarian, the provider, the sounding board, the most hated and loved person in my kids’ lives.

It was exhausting.

I had no time for myself, no respite from the never-ending drama. I couldn’t even take a fucking bath without the boys fighting. They always wanted something and I was the only one who could provide it for them. I cooked their meals, helped them with their homework. I drove them to sporting events and cheered on the sidelines. I cared for them when they were sick, attended every parent-teacher conference, taught them to walk, tie their shoes, even how to pee standing up.

But the one thing I couldn’t be was what Nash needed.

I heard what Mr. Williams and King said.

Nash needed a healthy dose of tough love.

I didn’t know how to do that.

Yes, I disciplined Nash when he was younger, but by the time he was twelve, he towered over me. Now, he stood a good foot and half taller and thanks to playing football, my son wasn’t some skinny chump. He was the exact carbon copy of his dad.

That boy could snap me like a twig if he got angry enough.

Not that he would ever get the chance, because I would lay his ass out flat if he ever raised a hand to me.

I didn’t play that fucking game and Nash knew it.

Still, that didn’t stop me from worrying.

A mother’s lot in life from what I’d read.

The worrying never stopped. Didn’t matter how old he got; I would always worry about him.

“Mom. Can I ask you a question?”

“You know you can ask me anything, darling,” my mom said, closing her wedding binder and giving me her full attention. That was one of the things I loved about my mom. She always stopped what she was doing, no matter how busy she was, to listen to us.

“Do you still worry about me?”

My mom smirked. “Laurel Shay, you are my one daughter I never had to worry about. You have always been so independent, headstrong and smart, unlike your sisters. You know what’s right and wrong. Yes, you had to grow up quicker than others and for a short time, I did worry, but, my beautiful girl, you handled everything with grace and dignity. Now, your snarky mouth is worrisome, but that’s just who you are. You are a wonderful mother to Nash and Kai. I love you and wouldn’t change a single thing about you. Why are you asking me this?”

Sniffing, I reached over and grabbed my mom’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Mom, and I love you too. I needed to hear that.”

“Laurel, what’s going on? Is everything okay at home? Is Nash acting up again? Has that handsome devil of yours already messed up? Is that why we’re going to his playhouse?”

I laughed. “Oh God, Mom. You are priceless. Don’t ever change. And it’s called a clubhouse. Not a playhouse,” I corrected, pulling to a stop in front of the large cabin. “And no, I don’t know why we are here. Guess we will find out together.”

My mom smiled. “The McDonald girls together, forever.”

“Yes, ma’am. Forever.”

Stepping out of my car, Nikoli greeted me with a kiss.

“Hey, babe.”

“Now, you sir, better keep your hands to yourself until I see a ring on my girl’s finger. You’ve already put the cart before the horse once before. We are not doing that again,” my mom admonished, walking over, sliding her hand in the crook of Nikoli’s arm.

Nikoli looked down at my mother and smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

With both of us on his arms, Nikoli walked us into the clubhouse, where I saw everyone sitting around, waiting. Even Sheriff Mike was here, sitting next to King as they talked quietly.

Searching for Nash, I found him sitting between King and Scribe, with an angry look on his face.

“What’s going on?” I whispered when Nikoli walked me and my mother over to the table where Nash sat.

Pulling out a chair for my mother to sit, Nikoli looked at me and said, “Remember, I told you I would tell you my story? Well, it’s story time, babe.”

Saying nothing more, I sat next to my mother and waited.

“The floor is yours, Banks,” King said, and everyone quieted down to listen.

I watched Nikoli take a deep breath and say, “My real name is Nikoli Henric Dubrovsky, and from the time I was two years old, I’ve been in the Witness Protection Program. I was born in Minsk, Russia. My mother’s name was Katarina Romanov. She was Prima Ballerina in the Bolshoi, the Russian Imperial Ballet Company. My father, Oleg Dubrovsky, was a world-renowned composer, and one night, the Russian Bratva killed my entire family. How I survived that night, I don’t know. All I know is that I spent my whole life in the WITSEC until I came here to Rosewood. Yes, I am still in the program. King and Scribe are my handlers.”

Looking at me, he added, “The night I dropped you at home. I had every intention of calling on you the next day, but I never got the chance, because when I arrived home, my handlers were there to take me away. I didn’t have a choice, Laurel. I was only a stupid fifteen-year-old kid. I tried calling you, writing you, I even snuck a cell phone and tried to text you, but they always caught me. In the end, they threatened to put my ass in juvenile detention if I didn’t cooperate and behave. I ran away a few times, trying to get back to you, but they always caught me. When I turned eighteen, they couldn’t stop me anymore. Legally, I was an adult and could make my own decisions, so I left the program. I returned to Rickett Creek, but you weren’t there. I thought you’d moved on or gotten married. So, I traveled around for a bit before I met Hawk in Chicago. Then the next thing I know, I’m standing on the front steps of this clubhouse asking King if I can be a prospect. If I had known about you, Nash, I would have never stopped looking. I know what it’s like to grow up without a dad and I never wanted that for you. I still don’t. I know I can’t make up for the time we lost, but I want to be here for you now.”

“Banks is telling the truth,” King said when no one said a word. “As you brothers know, I investigate every brother thoroughly before I allow them into the club. When Scribe ran Banks’ information, red flags went up fast.”

“Was that why FEDs showed up after he got here?” Gunner asked, and King nodded.

“Yeah. They came to take him back into protective custody, but Banks didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay here. So, I made the FEDs and Banks a deal. Scribe and I would take over Banks’ detail if Banks agreed to keep fucking quiet about his past. Word had spread of a coming war between factions in the underworld. Coupled with our own problems at the time, I didn’t want any more drama. In the end, Banks agreed to keep his mouth shut. The FEDs let us alone and everything’s been quiet ever since.”

“What aren’t you saying, King?” Bailey asked, getting her husband’s attention.

“What no one knows, not even you Banks,” King said, looking at Nikoli. “The Russian Bratva knows you’re here.”

“How?” Banks roared, glaring at King.

“Two years ago. Remember the night I had you help me with the pregnant woman? Well, the man who brought her here was Russian. His name is Vladmir Ivenok. He’s the right-hand man to Maxim Fedorov, the new Pakhan of the Russian Bratva.”

Reaching for Nikoli’s hand, I asked, “Is Nikoli still in danger?”

“I don’t know,” King muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I only saw Vladmir that night. It’s been two years so far and nothing. I’m hoping the man forgot about Banks, but I don’t think so. He said something to me that night. Something that only I knew. He knows about Banks’ brother.”

“A brother?” Scribe leaned forward and frowned. “I found nothing in Banks’ background to suggest he had a brother.”

“That’s because the FEDs only told me. They ordered me to call them immediately if anyone from the Russian Bratva showed up.”

I looked up at Nikoli and asked, “Did you know you had a brother?”

Nikoli slowly shook his head when he took a seat next to me, gripping my hand tightly. “What else don’t I know, King?”

“Only that your brother is alive and well, living in New York City. He works for the current Pakhan of the Russian Bratva. That’s all. I swear.”

Nash smirked, shaking his head.

“What?” I asked, glaring at my son.

“Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” my son sneered.

Stiffening, I snapped, “Nashville Nickolas McDonald! Apologize right fucking now.”

“Why?” my son scoffed. “You heard what dear old dad said. He is Russian Bratva. I’m just doing what comes naturally. Must be all that Russian blood coursing in my veins.”

I couldn’t stop Nikoli before he had Nash out of his seat and up against the wall. “You got a problem with me, then be fucking man enough to bring it to me, but I will not let you talk to your mother that way. And for your fucking information, I am not Bratva and have never been. I grew up in America, just like you did, so cut the fucking attitude before you really piss me off.”

“Why?” Nash grinned. “Are you going to torture me, then kill me if I don’t?”

Nikoli’s face paled while he vehemently shook his head, taking a step back when my mother walked over and slapped my son across the face.

“What is wrong with you?”

Holding his cheek, Nash mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Too damn bad,” my mother shouted, grabbing my son by his shirt collar, dragging his face down to hers. “You have been a pain in the ass ever since your mother moved here, and I’ve had enough. Now, you either tell me what the hell is going on with you, or I’m gonna take you behind the barn and read to you from the good book.”

Nash gulped.

“Shit,” I cursed, mainly to myself.

My mom was pissed.

Like really fucking pissed.

Standing, I reasoned, “Mom. Let Nash go. Now is not the time for this. Nash will talk when he’s ready.”

Doing as I asked, my mom let my son go, and when Nash stood back up, he shouted, “That’s right, Mom. It’s never time for me. Is it?”

Walking away, Nash headed for the kitchen, and when I heard a door slam, I sighed.

“Frank, go after him. Run him through the obstacle course,” King ordered.

The big guy nodded and left.

Sighing, I shook my head. “This isn’t going to work. I need to take him home.”

“No,” my mother said sternly. “That boy needs to have a come-to-Jesus meeting, and fast. I’ve been telling you for months, something was going on with him, and he’s only getting worse, Laurel. You can’t take on a fully grown man, and regardless of his age, Nash is bigger than you. He needs a firm hand and preferably one across his ass!”

Bailey snickered. “I like your mom, Laurel.”

“LeeAnn is right, babe,” Nikoli said, walking over to hold me. “I’m sorry if hearing my past upset him, but he needed to know. I won’t lie to him.”

“What about you?”

“What about me, babe?”

“How are you handling everything?”

Nikoli grinned. “You know me. I just roll with the punches.”

“That’s because you are a true gentleman,” my mom said, smiling up at Nikoli with love and affection.

“Nash aside,” Bailey spoke up. “I can’t get over how young your mother looks, Laurel. Damn, woman. What’s your secret?”

My mother preened like a peacock as she walked over to the lively woman now that all the attention was on her. “Why, aren’t you just the sweetest peach!”

Rolling my eyes, Nikoli chuckled. “Guess no one really cared to hear my story.”

“I cared,” I replied. “I’ve always cared.”