Lucky's Choice
Page 34
Lucky kept his expression neutral. “Stay away from her.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Because I’m telling you to. Go near her and I’ll kill you.”
“Don’t make me laugh. If you were going to kill me, you would have already done it or had Shade do it for you. The worst thing you’re going to do to me is make my dogs fat.” Bridge casually walked across the room and sat down on the chair in front of his desk.
“I made him promise to stay out of our shit.”
“I bet that put his balls in a twist.”
“He wasn’t happy,” Lucky agreed. It had placed a wedge between them, but because his and Bridge’s vendetta didn’t involve the club, Shade wouldn’t break his promise.
“That motherfucker doesn’t know what being happy feels like.”
“Yes, he does,” Lucky replied.
“I heard he was married with a kid. So, he’s happy?”
“Yeah, he loves Lily.”
“Fuck me. Miracles do happen.” Bridge snorted in disbelief.
“Yes, they do,” Lucky affirmed.
Bridge’s expression filled with agony before he concealed his reaction. “Not when it matters and not for the ones who deserve it.”
Lucky winced at his jibe. “What do you want me to say that I haven’t said a thousand times before? I’m sorry about Kale. If I could go back to that day and make a different choice, I would, but I can’t.”
“I wish I could go back, too, and ask someone else to watch out for him, someone who would have saved his life, not left him behind.”
Lucky’s body tautened. “I tried.”
“Not good enough. The Last Riders didn’t stop until they found Gavin’s body, but I’ll never have my brother’s body to bury.”
“I regret it every day of my life; what more do you want?”
“I want more than that. I want you to feel the pain of losing someone you love, to not be able to say goodbye to them, not have their body to grieve over. I want your life to become a living Hell like mine.”
“My life has been a living Hell since the day Kale was killed.”
“It doesn’t seem that way to me. From where I’m sitting, your life seems pretty sweet. You have the church, The Last Riders, and enough pussy to keep ten men satisfied. Is there anything you don’t get that you want?”
“Yeah, not to worry about you killing someone innocent because you hate me.”
Bridge casually stood, staring at him mockingly. “I guess you can’t have everything.”
“I’m engaged to Willa because she’s about to lose custody of the children she’s caring for, not because I care about her. Besides, she’ll make a decent pastor’s wife and keep the parishioners off my back about marriage.” Lucky threw out every excuse he could think of to place doubt in Bridge’s mind. “I’m never going to let myself care about a woman and put her in danger from you. If I cared about Willa, there would be no way I would marry her.”
“You trying to do some reverse psychology bullshit on me?”
“I’m telling you the truth,” Lucky stated, looking Bridge dead in the eyes.
“When have you ever told the truth about anything? You lied to me about keeping Kale safe. You lie to your parishioners about being a just man. You lied to everyone to make those drug busts. I don’t believe a word you’re telling me, but I will find out the truth before I kill her.”
“I’m not going to let you hurt Willa. The only one who is going to get killed is you. I’m done giving you a chance to make your move. I loved Kale like a brother, and out of respect to him, I’ve put up with your shit, but it’s over. I won’t warn you again, Bridge.”
“Your luck and time have run out.” Bridge left his office with those words hanging heavily in the air.
His worst fear had come true—Bridge had taken the target off his back and placed it on Willa’s. God help him if his lucky streak failed him a second time.
Chapter 13
“Having fun?”
Willa took a drink of her pink lemonade, nearly choking on the taste, and was unable to answer Lily’s question until she got her breath back.
“Are you okay?” Concerned, Lily hit her on the back.
“I’m fine,” Willa assured her, placing her glass back on the table.
Lily smiled, not touching her own glass. “I’ll be back in a minute. I need to use the restroom,” she excused herself.
“Too strong?” Evie asked Willa sympathetically. “I screwed up and let Penni make the drinks.”
Shade’s sister had tagged along with Lily and Beth to her bachelorette party. Penni was visiting for a couple of days before leaving to set up for a concert the rock group she managed was having in a city a couple of hours away.
“I didn’t,” she protested. Then, seeing Willa wipe the tears away from her eyes with a napkin, she corrected herself. “Well, maybe I added a little too much. The recipe is a work in progress.”
“Don’t touch anything that bitch makes,” Killyama yelled from the end of the table.
Penni stiffened. “Everyone begs for my recipes.”
“Yeah, they beg you not to make them anymore.” Killyama sniffed the brownie she had in her hand.
“Why is Killyama smelling the brownies? Didn’t the recipe I give you turn out?”
“I didn’t make those.” Penni glared at the woman who belonged to the neighboring biker club from Jamestown.
Beth had become friends with them, and they were always included when she planned a party, just like Willa was. Beth and Lily didn’t want anyone to feel left out.
“Your recipe was fine after I tweaked it a little,” Penni continued.
“How did you tweak it?” Willa asked curiously. Her brownies were one of her most requested items.
“She turned them into pot brownies. Damn near killed me the next day, vomiting them up.” Killyama glared.
“I didn’t tell you to eat half of the pan.”
“Who makes pot brownies in Kentucky? And for a baby shower?”
Penni didn’t look bothered by Killyama’s sarcastic question. “I didn’t make them for the shower. I told you that I was experimenting with the recipe, and Rider accidently put them on the table with the desserts.”
Willa broke into the argument between the two women. “How did they turn out?”
“They rocked, but I had to quit making them.”
“Why?” Willa asked.
“Because they made me a little cray-cray. It took me a while, but I realized they had a weird effect on me.” Penni drank her glass of pink lemonade in one swallow as a look crossed her face that Willa recognized as one she used when trying to perfect a recipe.
“What kind of effect?” Winter asked, passing the brownies to Penni.
“Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Because I’m telling you to. Go near her and I’ll kill you.”
“Don’t make me laugh. If you were going to kill me, you would have already done it or had Shade do it for you. The worst thing you’re going to do to me is make my dogs fat.” Bridge casually walked across the room and sat down on the chair in front of his desk.
“I made him promise to stay out of our shit.”
“I bet that put his balls in a twist.”
“He wasn’t happy,” Lucky agreed. It had placed a wedge between them, but because his and Bridge’s vendetta didn’t involve the club, Shade wouldn’t break his promise.
“That motherfucker doesn’t know what being happy feels like.”
“Yes, he does,” Lucky replied.
“I heard he was married with a kid. So, he’s happy?”
“Yeah, he loves Lily.”
“Fuck me. Miracles do happen.” Bridge snorted in disbelief.
“Yes, they do,” Lucky affirmed.
Bridge’s expression filled with agony before he concealed his reaction. “Not when it matters and not for the ones who deserve it.”
Lucky winced at his jibe. “What do you want me to say that I haven’t said a thousand times before? I’m sorry about Kale. If I could go back to that day and make a different choice, I would, but I can’t.”
“I wish I could go back, too, and ask someone else to watch out for him, someone who would have saved his life, not left him behind.”
Lucky’s body tautened. “I tried.”
“Not good enough. The Last Riders didn’t stop until they found Gavin’s body, but I’ll never have my brother’s body to bury.”
“I regret it every day of my life; what more do you want?”
“I want more than that. I want you to feel the pain of losing someone you love, to not be able to say goodbye to them, not have their body to grieve over. I want your life to become a living Hell like mine.”
“My life has been a living Hell since the day Kale was killed.”
“It doesn’t seem that way to me. From where I’m sitting, your life seems pretty sweet. You have the church, The Last Riders, and enough pussy to keep ten men satisfied. Is there anything you don’t get that you want?”
“Yeah, not to worry about you killing someone innocent because you hate me.”
Bridge casually stood, staring at him mockingly. “I guess you can’t have everything.”
“I’m engaged to Willa because she’s about to lose custody of the children she’s caring for, not because I care about her. Besides, she’ll make a decent pastor’s wife and keep the parishioners off my back about marriage.” Lucky threw out every excuse he could think of to place doubt in Bridge’s mind. “I’m never going to let myself care about a woman and put her in danger from you. If I cared about Willa, there would be no way I would marry her.”
“You trying to do some reverse psychology bullshit on me?”
“I’m telling you the truth,” Lucky stated, looking Bridge dead in the eyes.
“When have you ever told the truth about anything? You lied to me about keeping Kale safe. You lie to your parishioners about being a just man. You lied to everyone to make those drug busts. I don’t believe a word you’re telling me, but I will find out the truth before I kill her.”
“I’m not going to let you hurt Willa. The only one who is going to get killed is you. I’m done giving you a chance to make your move. I loved Kale like a brother, and out of respect to him, I’ve put up with your shit, but it’s over. I won’t warn you again, Bridge.”
“Your luck and time have run out.” Bridge left his office with those words hanging heavily in the air.
His worst fear had come true—Bridge had taken the target off his back and placed it on Willa’s. God help him if his lucky streak failed him a second time.
Chapter 13
“Having fun?”
Willa took a drink of her pink lemonade, nearly choking on the taste, and was unable to answer Lily’s question until she got her breath back.
“Are you okay?” Concerned, Lily hit her on the back.
“I’m fine,” Willa assured her, placing her glass back on the table.
Lily smiled, not touching her own glass. “I’ll be back in a minute. I need to use the restroom,” she excused herself.
“Too strong?” Evie asked Willa sympathetically. “I screwed up and let Penni make the drinks.”
Shade’s sister had tagged along with Lily and Beth to her bachelorette party. Penni was visiting for a couple of days before leaving to set up for a concert the rock group she managed was having in a city a couple of hours away.
“I didn’t,” she protested. Then, seeing Willa wipe the tears away from her eyes with a napkin, she corrected herself. “Well, maybe I added a little too much. The recipe is a work in progress.”
“Don’t touch anything that bitch makes,” Killyama yelled from the end of the table.
Penni stiffened. “Everyone begs for my recipes.”
“Yeah, they beg you not to make them anymore.” Killyama sniffed the brownie she had in her hand.
“Why is Killyama smelling the brownies? Didn’t the recipe I give you turn out?”
“I didn’t make those.” Penni glared at the woman who belonged to the neighboring biker club from Jamestown.
Beth had become friends with them, and they were always included when she planned a party, just like Willa was. Beth and Lily didn’t want anyone to feel left out.
“Your recipe was fine after I tweaked it a little,” Penni continued.
“How did you tweak it?” Willa asked curiously. Her brownies were one of her most requested items.
“She turned them into pot brownies. Damn near killed me the next day, vomiting them up.” Killyama glared.
“I didn’t tell you to eat half of the pan.”
“Who makes pot brownies in Kentucky? And for a baby shower?”
Penni didn’t look bothered by Killyama’s sarcastic question. “I didn’t make them for the shower. I told you that I was experimenting with the recipe, and Rider accidently put them on the table with the desserts.”
Willa broke into the argument between the two women. “How did they turn out?”
“They rocked, but I had to quit making them.”
“Why?” Willa asked.
“Because they made me a little cray-cray. It took me a while, but I realized they had a weird effect on me.” Penni drank her glass of pink lemonade in one swallow as a look crossed her face that Willa recognized as one she used when trying to perfect a recipe.
“What kind of effect?” Winter asked, passing the brownies to Penni.
