Page 57 of Baja
Salem tilts his head back, blowing smoke over his head. “We got any fuckin’ leads?” His gaze sweeps over us, his expression dark like a storm ready to break.
“Not much.” Laredo opens a black folder in front of him, and passes a stack of papers to Salem, who flips through them as my brother continues, “Those are the rap sheets of the dozen Phantom Riders members. They got their hands in numerous dirty activities such as dealin’ drugs and trafficking.”
Salem passes off the papers, and the stack makes its way around the table. Once I have them in my hands, I zero in on the man they call Havoc, their president and Lily’s abuser. Anger simmers in the pit of my gut as I read through the information. Uncle Jax wasn’t lying about their reputation—the Phantom Riders are running guns, dealing meth, and are notorious for their involvement in trafficking women, and at their core sits Havoc.
“Our sources say they all got blood on their hands. Those that cross them either come up missin’ or are found dead. From what I’m hearin’, these bastards don’t leave loose ends,” Laredo supplies.
“Still no word on Jax’s whereabouts?” Salem asks Laredo.
“Nothin’,” Laredo replies.
“My uncle is a master at vanishing and goin’ off-grid. You won’t lay eyes on him unless he wants to be found. Dead or alive.” I let the last words slip out, tension coiling in my muscles like a spring. But we all know—we can’t ignore the chilling truth.
“Man’s got a damn death wish, that’s for sure,” Mystic says.
Harlem rakes a hand through his hair. “What about my old lady’s hustle? Got any word on that?” His voice sounds like sandpaper scraping steel.
“Cops still don’t have shit, and the streets ain’t spillin’ nothin’ we wanna hear,” Laredo replies, his tone flat and hard. “Whoever hit Belladonna’s isn’t leavin’ tracks,” he adds.
I shake my head. “I don’t know about you, but it feels like someone is pokin’ the bear. That someone is testin’ us. I know Sukie and Alice have had their fair share of troubles from people in this town, but I highly doubt anyone here is foolish enough to hit them while under our protection. Whoever did it is too smart for any local junkies and too clean for it to be a random hit,” I admit, and the tension in the room thickens.
Salem leans back in his seat, his fingers drumming against the table’s surface. “You got a point.”
Harlem slams his fist on the table, rattling the half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting in the center, releasing his anger. “Whoever is responsible is playin’ a dangerous game.”
Salem, as always, remains steady, but I know his mind is sharp, working all the angles.
“What about the charity event comin’ up?” I lean forward, flattening my hands on the table. “Not ideal, considerin’ the shit we got goin’ on, but we got kids countin’ on us.”
Salem lets out a heavy sigh. “We continue to wake up and do business as usual. The event goes on as planned. But we don’t let our guard down. We stay sharp and double down on security for the event. No one gets in or out without one of us knowin’.”
“I’ll call in a few favors and have extra sets of eyes posted near the hospital while keeping a low profile,” Laredo offers.
“Everyone stays on lockdown. Women and kids don’t step foot outside without one of us shadowing them,” Salem reiterates and shoots me a stern look. “That means your folks too.” His chair groans as he rises. “You got your orders.”
19
ALICE
I’m sitting cross-legged on Nash’s bed at the clubhouse, watching him dress. He opens the middle dresser drawer and pulls out a tee. He’s been quiet all morning. Nash didn’t speak a word while he took me in the shower earlier, and he didn’t share more than a few mumbled greetings over breakfast. And it’s obvious his parents sense his mood and don’t push for conversation.
As a parent myself, I empathize with their motivations. I often feel an overwhelming need to protect my child from painful truths, believing that keeping certain secrets will shield her from hurt. Parenting is not always easy. It’s a journey filled with mistakes and challenges. There are no guidelines or manuals. I remind myself that mistakes are a natural part of this journey. It’s easy for anyone to forget this when navigating feelings of uncertainty and betrayal.
One day, you are living a carefree life without responsibility. Next, you have this tiny human relying on you to keep them alive. The truth is ninety-nine percent of parenting is winging it.
Did Nash’s parents make a mistake by keeping this secret for so long?Perhaps. But I also believe they acted on the bestof intentions. I have no doubt that deep down, Nash knows his mom and dad acted out of love. But for now, he needs time to process, which is why I won’t force him to talk about it. When he’s ready to share what’s happening inside his head, I’ll be here to listen and support him however I can.
I veer the conversation in a different direction. “What time do you want to head to the hospital?”
Nash sits on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots. “In an hour. Can you be ready by then?”
“Yep. I just need to do something with my hair since someone made me get it wet this morning,” I tease.
The corner of Nash’s mouth quirks as he peers at me over his shoulder. “Isn’t that the purpose of a shower?”
“Yes, but I washed and dried my hair last night to save time this morning.”
Nash leans back on the bed, grabs the front of my shirt, and brings my mouth to his. “You came twice on my cock this mornin’, babe. Are you sayin’ it wasn’t worth the extra time it’s goin’ to cost?”
