Page 50 of Baja
Nash runs his hands through his hair. “But unfortunately, the same can’t be said for Belladonna’s.”
My back goes straight. “What are you talking about?” For years, Sukie had dealt with assholes around town harassing her, and occasionally they’d vandalize the store, but there hasn’t been an incident in months. Not since Harlem put a stop to everything. My stomach twists in knots at the thought of that shit starting up again. Although, I’m not convinced anyone in town would be suicidal enough to pull a stunt like that, considering her connection to the club is no secret.
“Harlem received an alert from the security company about thirty minutes ago. The alarm went off at the store. He knew Mystic was in the area since he hadn’t left the club yet, so he asked him to ride by and check it out.” Nash pauses. “I’m sorry, babe, but the place was trashed.”
“Oh, no.” I reach out to Nash, and he pulls me against his chest.
“Harlem called Prez and asked that we meet him down there. Sukie is going to need you.”
“That bad?” I ask.
“Yeah, babe. It’s that bad.” Nash leans down and kisses the top of my head. “Can you be ready in five?”
“Make it two.” I kiss the underside of his jaw before disappearing into the bathroom.
We pull up in front of Belladonna’s ten minutes later. Nash parks his bike, and I climb off, anxious to see the damage done to the store. Nash follows close behind me as I make a beelinefor the entrance. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that awaits me as I walk through the door. My steps falter, and I cover my mouth with my hand.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Nash hisses.
I go to take a step forward only to have Nash stop me. “Careful, baby. There is broken glass everywhere.”
The display case inside the store entrance has been turned over, and the candles Sukie and I stocked the other day lay in broken pieces all over the tiled floor. But that’s not all. Every end cap and every display case have been toppled. Packages of bar soap have been ripped open and tossed aside. Someone even opened numerous bottles of shampoo and conditioner and emptied their contents onto the floor. Glass crunches beneath my feet as I go over to the check-out counter, where it looks like someone took a baseball bat to the cash register. The shelves that once lined the wall behind the counter have been ripped down. I catch sight of Salem coming in through the back of the store with Mystic on his heels.
“Brother.” Salem lifts his chin, signaling Nash to join his and Mystic’s huddle.
The three men talk in hushed tones as I scrutinize the rest of the damage left behind. “Has anyone been to the office and storeroom?” I ask.
Salem breaks away from Nash and Mystic, the scowl on his face telling me all I need to know.
The rumble of a motorcycle draws our attention, and four sets of eyes watch as Harlem parks his bike next to Nash’s. Behind him, Sukie climbs off. By the look on her face, Harlem had already told her what happened, but like me, she isn’t fully prepared for what awaits her when she walks into the store. In full momma bear mode, I stomp over broken shards of glass and debris as I rush to my daughter’s side. Sukie breaks away from Harlem and throws herself at me.
“I can’t believe this. Everything is ruined.”
“It’s nothing we can’t fix.” I brush a strand of hair away from her grief-stricken face.
“I thought I was finally past crap like this,” Sukie says, a hint of anger in her tone.
Salem interrupts. “This shit has everything to do with the club. You weren’t the target.” Salem’s eyes meet the looming presence over my shoulder. “Harlem, I’m going to make this right, brother.”
“I know you will, brother.”
With a nod, Salem turns back to Mystic and Nash. “Mystic, you stay behind with me. We’ll board the place up and figure everything out in the mornin’. Nash, you and Harlem get Sukie and Alice back to the clubhouse. I want everyone to hunker down there until we know what the fuck we’re dealin’ with.”
“What about Juniper?” Mystic cuts in. “If the club is being targeted through our women…” He leaves his statement hanging.
“I’ve already taken care of that. I told Sage to call Juniper and get her ass to the clubhouse.” Salem nods to the salon across the street. “But why don’t you go over and make sure she has her ass in gear. Knowin’ that woman, she’s goin’ to give you lip.”
“Sheeit,” Mystic draws.
Sukie and I share a look, knowing Juniper likes to throw sass to get a rise out of these guys. But Salem is right. Juniper’s apartment is above the hair salon. I shudder at the thought of someone trashing the salon like they did Belladonna’s, let alone doing so with Juniper right upstairs.
“If Juniper tries diggin’ her heels in, you have my permission to throw her over your shoulder,” Salem adds. “Tell her I’m not playin’ around with this shit.”
“You got it, Prez.” Mystic throws up a finger salute and heads out the door.
Salem turns his attention back to me and Sukie. “I’m going to get someone out here tomorrow to clean this shit up. I’ll also have anything broken, fixed or replaced. I don’t want the cops involved, so you won’t be able to file an insurance claim for your loss, but don’t worry about that. The cost is on the club.”
Sukie leans into Harlem, wraps an arm around his waist, and nods. “Thank you, Salem.”
