Chapter 17

17

RIOT

A few hours earlier

"What the fuck do you mean everyone's dead?" I bark at Rock like it's his fault the Mancini issue has been keeping me awake at night. I never let shit worry me, ever, but now I've got Halo and my sister in the same vicinity, and if there's one thing I'm good at, it's worrying myself to death. I've always had a watchful eye over everything my sister's done, unbeknown to her for the majority of her college years, and now she's older, I've let go a little. Still. You can never be too careful about the people you care about.

"I thought you knew that." Rock scratches his head. "Everyone that did Mancini wrong is now dead."

He doesn't need to give me a pointed look to tell me what he's thinking. I mean, I killed the guy and all. I get where he's coming from.

"Uh, not everyone. Mancini, his brother, a cousin or five, and whoever the other fuckers were the Bratva took care of in the underworld are gone. Yeah, I get that part. But now we're talkin' business execs, politicians involved in the Mancini vs Bratva takeover, and a fuckin' mafia associate." That was on the news this morning. Apparently Chicago is on high alert for this rogue sniper, and I've no goddamn idea what the hell to make of it.

"Probably couldn't hurt askin' around." He gives me a chin lift. "Got any friends in low places?"

"When don't I? But back then I worked alone." I stare at the paperwork, something isn't adding up. "What am I missin'? Someone has a vendetta, but who and why?"

"That's the million dollar question."

I let out a deep breath. "This is fucked up."

"You worried it'll lead back to you?"

"Don't see how it can. My handler is dead. He's the only one who knew who I was, and even then, he didn't really know. I never dealt with the Bratva, or Mancini, or got involved in any of the underworld shit. I was there to do a job."

"Get that, but sometimes these things come back to bite us." I don't want to hear his words, but I know that he has a point. It's not like I haven't thought about that. It's all I can think about.

"Need you to dig up anything you have on a fuckface called Ian Brewers."

"Who's that?"

"Someone I wanna pummel into next week."

"So let me guess, somethin' to do with your girl?"

I meet his gaze. "Not my story to tell, but let's just say her parents are overbearin'."

He chuckles. "My ol' lady, her dad was a piece of work. I get that he's only ever had her best interests at heart, but fuck me, the man was hardcore. He was so protective of her, she barely left her apartment back home."

"So he did what any loving father would do and sent her to the MC." I wipe a hand over my face.

"Well, Cash owed him, and frankly, the useless bodyguards she had already proved their worth when they let a stalker get into her life."

"That didn't say much for the best friend." Aspyn was betrayed by the one closest to her, but it all worked out in the end.

"Now and again, you get a zinger. Like this. All of the Mancini revenge trail leads back to corruption and deviants. Politicians who had a slice of the pie. Mafia ties and fuck knows who else."

"Word on the streets of Chicago is the Bratva are moving in, but who fuckin' knows. They need to shut this asshole down before things really get out of hand."

"Not sure there's any more assholes to kill. Senator Cartwright was shot dead two nights ago; allegedly he had money tied up in a drug trafficking organization that Mancini was spreading through the underworld. We know how deep drug trafficking goes." He shakes his head. "We also know how deep vendettas go."

"I'm gonna talk to Cash about a couple of the prospects lookin' out for the club, my family, as well as Halo. Just until the Bratva gets on top of things." I mean, I'm not going to fuckin' Chicago to deal with this mess. This mess ain't mine. That's what I keep telling myself, even though I know a big part of this is to do with me. A very big part. I fuckin' shot the guy.

"Good idea. Giggs and Rodeo will be up for it, and the new guy, Dawg. I know Bandit has some free time now he's only workin' nights. We'll all pitch in."

That's the thing about this club, we all pitch in. When Star needed help in Mississippi and Nevada wasn't letting her go alone, Cash okayed us to go in and help. Granted, it wasn't our fight, but Tilly was kidnapped in New Orleans. In our neighborhood. Our territory. That doesn't fly. We will do all we can as a club to make sure that it never happens again.

"Thanks, brother, appreciate it."

"I'd also not be botherin' Cash if you can help it. Caprice is teethin' and both he and Deanna look exhausted."

"I'll check with Ryder and Tag. They'll be at the auto shop."

Most of the guys come and go between all the businesses, but usually Tag is the one that handles the prospects and keeps them in line, so I can run shit by him if I need to.

"I'll keep watchin' Chicago. If anythin' else happens, you'll be the first to know."

I rise out of the stool I'm perching on. "Sounds good." We pound hug and I head out to my motorcycle to ride over to the garage.

When I get there, Stella greets me and I frown. She's dressed in overalls and has a grease stain across her cheek. This is new. "What you doin' here?"

"Just helpin' out." It's no secret that Harlem's daughter is a tomboy and has always wanted to get into mechanics. It's not like anyone's opposed to it, but Indigo gave her a job working at the bakery. It seems like she's still favoring changing tires instead of slapping butter frosting on cupcakes. I know what I'd prefer to be doing.

"Tag or Ryder around?"

She thumbs behind her. "Tag is. He's extra grumpy today, just so you know."

"And you stayed to help out?"

"He's only letting me do easy shit. JJ, Chains and Hawk are all down with the flu." She shrugs. "And I know some shit."

I laugh. "Uh huh."

She slaps me on the shoulder. "Hey, don't laugh. I bet I could change a tire faster than you can."

"I don't doubt that, sugar. Any chance there's coffee goin'?"

She snorts. "You see a woman in a mechanic shop and the first thing you ask for is coffee?"

"I had a hard night."

She makes sarcastic cooing noises. "Awww, poor baby. Is your new girlfriend keeping you up too late?"

"Very funny. You gettin' paid by the hour?" She lets me by and I look around for Tag. It takes a second, but eventually I see him under the hood of a car.

"I'm gettin' paid penalties, as luck would have it. I guess that's what happens when you send a woman to do a man's job, right?"

I laugh. "I guess."

"You gonna yap all mornin' or get that oil change done?" Tag barks at Stella.

She blows him a kiss. "You're so cute when you're angry, Beast Man."

He looks up at me. "You helpin' out or have you come to yap your tonsils too?"

"So moody." I laugh. "Came to ask if I can grab a couple of prospects to watch over Lace and Halo until this crazy ass shit in Chicago dies down."

He frowns. "You worried about it?"

Clearly, Cash had to tell the main committee members something. It's not like it's a secret what I used to do, more like the identity of my victims. The less anyone knows about any of them the better.

"Probably should be, since half the associates are droppin' like flies."

"Got Bandit and Dawg takin' turns on the gate, aside from that, it's business as usual. Club's not involved."

"No but I am. I don't wanna bring my past here."

"Cash said your handler is dead, so what's the fuss about? Someone's gettin' revenge on a bunch of assholes in suits. Maybe they're doin' a better job of cleanin' up than the Bratva are."

He's also got a point. I never really looked at it like that. "There just seems to be an awful lot comin' out of the woodwork, and after all this time, it's got me wonderin' why."

"No shit?—"

We both turn as Stella giggles, sizing up the cop at the door. "Well, well. I never really struck you as a man who ventures over this side of the tracks."

Me and Tag both gape at the same time as we see Detective Cale Callaghan at the door, smiling like he owns the joint. What in the fuck?

He's always hanging around trying to get one of us locked up or pin one of us to some crime we didn't commit. It's like he has a personal vendetta against the Rebels and I've no idea what we ever did to him. He's a cocky little shit, too. Worked his way up the ranks fast because he's clearly got brains, and the brawn. Though, if Harlem were here to see his sweet, nineteen year old daughter looking at him with those eyes, I think he'd have a little to say about it.

"It's all part of the job…" He piques an eyebrow.

To my astonishment, Stella says, "Stella. Nice to meet you properly." They fuckin' shake hands.

"We've met before?" He frowns.

"Uh, I've seen you around."

"Don't tell me… You're related to one of the NOLA Rebels?" It could just be me, but his voice changes several octaves.

She plays with the ends of her hair, shifting from one foot to the other. "You could say?—"

"What of it?" Tag barks, wiping his hands over his overalls. He grabs a rag on the way to the door and I follow behind. He glances at Stella. "Back to work."

She pokes her tongue out. "That's no way to talk in front of Detective Callaghan."

"You want an ass whoopin', girl? You're not too old to get one." Nope, Tag ain't happy.

She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Not sure Luna would appreciate that."

Tag balks. "I didn't mean… never mind." His head swings back to Callaghan. "The fuck you want?"

I roll my lips. No wonder Tag is the Sergeant at Arms. I mean, I don't think we need to coat the man in powdered sugar, but going in with something a little more subtle like ‘what's up' may have been the easier route.

Callaghan looks at us sternly, the trace of any smile long gone. "Lookin' for Harlem."

"Oh." Stella holds up a finger. "He's sick."

"And you know him because he's…?"

"He's what?" she sing-songs.

Holy shit. She's flirting big time.

"Related to you?" He sounds almost disgusted at the idea.

She rolls her eyes. "Relax, he's my dad. I'm usually at Indigo's Sweet Treats, but Tag over here needed help because everyone's down with the flu."

"Don't leave anythin' out," I mutter.

Tag moves directly in front of Stella, blocking her from view. The man is massive. He's got the biggest set of shoulders and biceps I've ever seen, and while I've never been struck by him, Nevada definitely has, and he said it didn't tickle.

He's about the same height as Callaghan, but he clearly has the bulk behind him that the cop doesn't have. Well, nobody has unless you're the Hulk.

"What you want with Harlem?"

He doesn't back down. "Believe I was talkin' to the lady."

"Well, she's workin', so fuckin' spit it out." It's no secret there's no love lost between us and some of the cops in town. Cash used to work with a few that have since been retired, and ever since Callaghan got promoted, he's been on our case for petty shit. It makes things more difficult when we need to let things slide into the system, but it seems corruption is on the downscale in the NOLA Police Department.

"Tag!" Stella thumps him in the back but he doesn't even move. She steps around him, her face red and angry. "That was rude!"

He barely gives her a glance, barking at Callaghan, "Talk!"

Callaghan doesn't falter. I've gotta give the boy some credit, he holds his own. His stance tall and chest puffed out. His eyes narrowed and jaw tight. No signs of the friendliness he just showed Stella. Go figure.

Callaghan smirks. "I don't think simple things like vocabulary are quite in your realm, are they, Tag?"

Tag steps closer, and I go to shove him back. No need getting into a nosy cop's face, it'll only exacerbate the issue. "You sayin' I'm stupid?"

"Nope, but I am looking for Harlem, so I'll try him at home."

"Is everything okay?" Stella sounds worried.

Callaghan turns his gaze on her and his eyes soften ever so slightly. "Everything's fine, it's a personal matter but nothing to be worried about."

"So you just thought you'd swing on by to check up on H?" I snicker. "Any excuse to come pokin' around where your nose isn't wanted."

His eyes flick to mine. "Riot. You keeping your nose clean?"

Of course he knows all about every one of us. If we ever slip up, I've no doubt his smiling face will be there with handcuffs, ready to collect.

"What's it to you?"

He shrugs. "Just makin' sure the neighborhood is safe and sound."

Asshole.

Tag points in his face. "Ain't nothin' for you here, like the lil' lady said, H ain't here."

"As always, your hospitality shines through." His eyes dance.

"If you like, I can check to see if Dad's up to seeing anyone?" Stella helpfully offers.

Tag grunts.

I can't help but chuckle. I mean, she's nineteen and he is in a uniform, or whatever chicks like these days.

Callaghan's tone is much softer when he addresses her. "That's gracious of you, Stella, but it won't be necessary."

She pouts ever so slightly.

"You're not goin' anywhere with him." Tag crosses his giant arms over his giant chest, not moving a muscle. "And you need to get back to work if you expect to be paid today."

"Asshat," she mutters while moving away.

"You know, if you showed one ounce of kindness toward your employee, you might find they actually work more productively," Callaghan offers.

Tag narrows his eyes, this could get ugly. The last thing we need is him up on assault charges and then Detective Asswipe will never be off our case. "Yeah, like you're not thinkin' with your dick. She's off limits, now beat it."

Callaghan, to his detriment, is not deterred. "You take care now." He gives me a chin lift as he turns to leave.

Tag and I stare after him until he disappears out the way he came.

"What was all that about?" I question.

"Beats me, but I'm gonna phone H."

"No need," Stella says. "I already texted him."

Tag turns and heads her way, pointing his finger. "Don't even think about it."

She frowns. "Think about what?"

"Don't give me that shit," he barks. "Callaghan."

"What about him?"

I try to interject, but Tag's on a mission. "She's got absolutely no interest in?—"

"Nobody's askin' you," Tag grunts.

Stella sighs. "I don't know who died and put you in charge of my life, Thomas, but I'm a grown ass woman and I can do what I want. I was being nice, that's how I was raised. No point pissing off the detective who hates us anymore than we have to, right?"

"No cussin'" Tag warns. "H will be blamin' me for your foul language when you get home."

"I'm actually moving into the apartment above the bakery," she tells us. "Indi hasn't used it for ages, and Dad was weird about me moving out before I'd decided about college."

"How you goin' with all of that?" I ask. Obviously not good if she's chosen to work here.

"Well, I've decided to take some night classes and get some experience here. I love industrial design, too, well, anything to do with the mechanics of how things work, but I'm not gonna go to college for however many years when I really want to?—"

"We don't need your life story, woman." Tag's not exactly known for his verboseness, and his attention span at listening is even worse.

"Wow, someone's cranky today, grumpy pants. How about I run out and get us some wraps for lunch and you'll feel right as rain again."

"That's not because Callaghan's still parked in the lot, is it?" I thumb behind me.

Tag scowls, looking over his shoulder. "Damn asshole."

"Why do you hate him so much?" Stella asks. "He's just doing his job. I mean, I know he snoops around, but he puts away the bad guys."

I glance at her. "Sometimes we get into situations, Stell. And sometimes we have to put out the trash, that can lead back to any one of us. Your dad was in Mississippi and some shit went down."

She folds her arms over her chest. "Shit like…?"

At least I'm glad she doesn't know all the details. The women of the club might talk, but they're still wary of how much they tell Stella being she's the baby of the women and Harlem being her pops.

"Like none of your business, woman. Now go grab those wraps." Tag pulls out his wallet and shoves some money at her. "And an iced coffee."

"Is there gonna be a thanks with that?"

He grumbles.

She holds a hand to her ear. "Sorry, a little louder, I didn't quite catch that."

"If you wanna get paid, you'll grab me an iced coffee and whatever Riot wants."

"You buyin'?" I laugh.

"Ooh, in that case, I'll grab a couple of lobster rolls." She reaches over and plucks more money out of his fingers and runs off before he can stop her.

"Chicken Caesar for me!" I yell after her.

Tag sighs. "That girl is trouble."

"Well, she's gonna do what she wants. She's not a kid anymore, bro."

"Get that, but Callaghan? Over my dead body is that ever gonna happen."

"Wonder what he wanted with H?"

"Secretive asshole. Like you said, any excuse to come snoopin' by."

"So you're cool if I assign the prospects to keep watch of Halo's apartment and her office while she's at work, and my sister — she was at Hope's this weekend."

"Yeah, I'll let 'em know."

"Thanks, bro." I slap him on the back. "You sure you're not comin' down with somethin'?"

He scowls again. "Why'd you say that?"

"Like Stell said, you seem extra grumpy today."

He shoves me by the shoulder. "Fuck off."

"Can't." I wave to the door. I also don't tell Tag that Stella stopped by Callaghan's window and is currently bent over talking to him. The guy is gonna end up with two black eyes and no face left. Sometimes you just gotta pick your battles. "Got a feelin' that wrap might be a while."