Page 9 of Tangled Threats on the Nomad Highway
“That’s little, Laur.” The small facescrunched up, and the little girl made a sound. “She’s scrunchy.”He kept staring. His daughter opened her eyes and blinked. “Heythere, little girl.” Her face scrunched again, and she emitted asmall wail. “Oh, no no, baby girl. Shush, now.” Glancing up atLauren, he asked, “What do I do?”
She smiled. “She’s probably hungry. Bringher here.”
He looked at the legs of the bassinette,finding them flat and unhelpful. He tried to grip the sides, butthe molded plastic felt slippery, and he was afraid he’d drop thewhole contraption. Using his feet and hands, he scooted it a fewinches towards the bed where Lauren was.
“Silly. Just pick her up.” Lauren wasgiggling now, not trying to hide her amusement.
“How?”
Lauren made a scooping motion with bothhands.
He looked back down, measuring the distancebetween the bottom and top of the blanketed bundle. “What if I dropher?”
“Don’t,” she stated, as if that wassomething entirely under his control. Another glance at his wifeshowed her smile had spread ear to ear. “Just pick her up,Jimmy.”
So he did. Slowly, he wedged his hands underthe squirmy body and lifted, adjusting carefully as he held her afew inches over the bottom of the bassinette, ensuring he had asecure grip.
“Hold her against your chest,” his wifecoached, and he’d brought Makayla tight to his body as emotionsflooded through him. “Now, bring her to me.”
Jimmy shuffled the few feet to the bed, thenrebuffed his wife’s attempts to retrieve their daughter from hisarms. Makayla was snuffling now, turning her head towards him, andhe stared at her face, mesmerized by each sound and movement.“She’s so pretty.” Lauren’s hand covered Makayla’s chest, a fingerdragging the blanket down a little farther, and a hand peeked out,tiny fingers curled around the edge of the fabric. “Oh, honey,she’s so pretty.”
Noises in the hallway had him handing overthe baby fast. Lauren had scarcely taken their daughter when thedoor burst open, a handful of men spilling into the room, Scar atthe head of the group.
“Where’s my goddaughter?” His questionset up a racket in Jimmy’s head, because in no way did he want hisdaughter connected with this man. With any of these men.
“Get out.” Arms outstretched, he urgedthe men back towards the door. “Get the fuck out. Baby’s sleeping.You assholes are gonna wake her.” He glanced over his shoulder atLauren, who stared at him, anger and fear plain on her face as hewalked away from her, their future in her arms. It killed him, buthe didn’t turn back, instead telling her casually, “Back in a bit,Laur.”
He’d lasted another five years. Five yearsbefore he could honestly say he’d begun looking for an exit.Another year and a half before he took the plunge and braced forthe pain.
Scar hadn’t held back on the beatout,organizing multiple men Jimmy’d had to work his way past, takingblows that should have leveled him. When he made it through, Jimmyhad been faced with a fresh and angry Scar waiting at the end.
The two weeks recovering from that day hadbeen worth it all to see the relief on Lauren’s face when he toldher they were out. Well and truly out, never going back to thatkind of nightmare.
So six months after they’d moved to herfamily’s hometown north of Birmingham, when he’d told her he wasinterested in approaching another motorcycle club, her reactionhadn’t been surprising. It had taken multiple weekend parties toconvince her the Bama Bastards were for real, and even then, shehadn’t entirely warmed up to the idea of the club. More of a trustand willingness to believe him when he said it was what he needed.That the brotherhood filled up something inside him, a hole in hisheart he couldn’t fix any other way. The give and take of the menand the way they cared for each other felt similar to arelationship, but he would never have told her so. He’d never givenher any reason to doubt his love and trust and faithfulness washers alone.
And here he was, closing in on a year aftershe’d been forced from his side, taking their little girl with her,and the Scarloucci name was raising its ugliness to stare down athim.
“What’s Chulpayev willing to pay for news?”Einstein stared down at the desk, tracing along the path of an oldscar with the edge of a fingernail. “He put a price on anything?That’ll tell us how critical it is in the grander scheme ofthings.”
“No top end. That’s what I heard.”
“Fuck,” Einstein gritted out, pulling hisphone from the pocket of his jeans. Resting it faceup on the desk,he tapped an icon, triggering the app the club had sourced fromMyron, the Rebel Wayfarers MC’s resident geek. “Make sure thatdoor’s closed good, yeah?”
Mike leaned back and pushed against thedoor, grunting when it snapped shut. Three rings and the callconnected, black at first, then fuzzy as the camera on the otherend engaged. The camera on his phone would show just the club’slogo, painted on the ceiling of the office for just this reason, aninstant identification of location.
“’Sup, brother? We’re not even out of townand you’re already giving me a ringy-ding? That’s some seriouscrushin’ you’re doing, man.” Retro’s expression was loose and easy,and Einstein hated he’d be the one to change that. “Tell me,brother.”
He picked up the phone and turned in hischair, angling it so Crazy Mike was over his shoulder and capturedin frame. “Mike found out some intel I think you need.”
“Talk.” Nothing more or less than the simpledemand came from Retro, but every muscle shown on camera tensed inpreparation.
“Chulpayev has an ask out for info on Scar’sfather. Not the grandfather, but Luciano. His request doesn’t havea price cap, boss. That’s him looking for some precise information.If he were looking for generalized stuff, he’d use a lower offer,make it more of a scattershot effort to get the most bang for hisbuck, and I’d have dug a bit before calling. Knowing he’s willingto shell out serious money for whatever he’s looking for, that’sworth interrupting your road trip.” Einstein stopped there, knowingfrom experience that Retro could interpret and assimilate at aspeed unrivaled in the club, but even Retro would need aminute.
“Find out what the specifics of the ask are.Watch for Volkov’s involvement. If Chulpayev is looking for gold,you can bet your sweet ass that Volkov won’t be far behind.” Retrosighed. “Had another message that’s the reason we’re not on theroad right now. Mason called and said Gunny’s asked for nomadstatus. He’s inclined to approve but wants to see his man once Baneand Gunny get back from Kentucky. That’ll be a first, an officerducking out of that plate and picking up the nomad rocker. So thereyou go, info for info, as is ever the way.”
Einstein chuckled. “Got it, bossman.” Theunspoken request was to also listen for any rumblings of how otherclubs would take the idea of a powerful and connected ranking Rebelmember going nomad. “We’ll run the info, check the numbers, andI’ll let you know if we have anything to report.” He hesitated.“I’m also going to put another two men on your house, Retro. Theseassholes don’t play by the rules.” Swallowing hard, he swung aroundin the chair so it was just him looking at Retro. That way CrazyMike didn’t have to see the pain Retro carried for Einstein. Thatshit was quietly soul-piercing, and Einstein didn’t want to shareit with anyone. “Take it on myself if needed.”
“Brother” was all he got in response, but hedidn’t need anything else.
