“Trust me, I understand your frustration, Beau. But I told you this wasn’t going to be easy. You need to let us do what we can.”
“No, fuck this shit. If you can’t even find the fucker, how am I supposed to trust you have her back?” I stand and move toward the door.
“Beau, don’t do anything stupid,” he calls out, and I stop and turn.
“I won’t, but if I have to, you won’t know.” I walk out of his office without a backward glance. The last thing I need to do is bring us into more shit, but Chad needs to be found, not only for Mackenzie’s sake, but also for my own. If the asshole gets to her again, I’m not sure I’d be able to forgive myself. I’d rather take the fucker’s life than have him hurt her.
“Think this through, Beau,” Jackson’s warning across the station doesn’t stop me. I know I should just leave it, let Jackson and his men sort it out, but knowing the fucker is out there, probably trying to come up with some sick way of getting her back, is consuming me. I don’t want to think about why this is messing with me. If I were honest, it’s more than a need to protect her. It’s something more. Something I’m not sure I’m ready to admit. Just being under the same roof appears to tame the growing need though.
“I won’t be able to protect you if this goes too far.”
“Catch ya, Jackson.” I ignore his warning, step outside and head to my bike. I’ve been relying too much on the law to put an end to this. If Jackson can’t sort this out, I’m going old school. I’ll call in my own markers and make sure whatever we find out will be handled in house.
Once and for all.
I pull up at the clubhouse two hours later and take a moment to contemplate going in. I know I probably should just head home to my place. I mean, it’s been over a month since I’ve slept in my own bed, but the thought of leaving her alone doesn’t sit well with me. Every night since Kenzie showed up, I haven’t spent a night away from the clubhouse. From her. Even though she sleeps in the furthest room from me, I’m relaxed knowing I’m close. Doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could climb into her bed, hold her and tell her I’ll never let the asshole touch her again though.
“Hey, fucker. What you doing out here?” Jesse’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Nothing. Just got in.” I climb off my bike. Yeah, no way I’m leaving her tonight. “Where you off to?” I take the focus off me and notice his tidy appearance.
“Dinner with Bell’s parents,” he answers as he climbs onto his own bike.
“How’s everything going? Paige settled in?”
“It’s been tense. But she’s adjusting. They all are.”
“Bell doing okay?”
“Yeah, just relieved to have her sister home. The whole thing has been a fucking mess, but it can only get better, right? I have to head out, can’t be late. We can catch up later. You gonna be in tomorrow night?” He stops, letting a grin take over his face. “Of course you will.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I bark. I’m ready to go at him for his smart remark. Of course all my brothers know how messed up I am over Mackenzie. They’ve been very vocal about it.
Fuckers.
“Nothing man, fucking chill. It’s just you’ve been spending every night here and taking less call outs.”
Deciding not to have it out with him, I flip him off and walk to the door. He laughs at me, but I ignore it and the fact he’s right.
Yeah, I’ve spent every night here. So fucking what?
Doesn’t mean shit.
And the call outs are only less because I’ve taken on more of an administration roll to begin taking over the operation. Not that he gives a fuck.
His bike starts up, the rumble of the pipes filling the air just as I step inside.
“Mackenzie?” I call out when I walk into the main living area.
“In the kitchen. Go clean up. Dinner will be ready in ten,” she shouts back and I can’t seem to hold in my smirk at the routine we’ve found ourselves in.
Jesus, who would have thought?
Not wanting to delay in seeing her, I make my way to her. The clubhouse is quiet for a Wednesday and I’m grateful for it. Between work and dealing with trying to find Chad, I haven’t had much alone time with her this last week, so dinner has become our thing.
“Hey, darlin’.” I rest up against the door and watch her move about the kitchen like she owns it. She may as well, she spends most of her day in here, cooking and baking. The whole clubhouse is in love with her and her baked treats.
“Oh, you’re ready?” She spins around and graces me with one of her smiles, and just like the first time I ever saw it, it fucking hits me. “How’s your day?” She goes back to the pots on the stove, stirring one with a wooden spoon. It smells good, and as I enter the kitchen all the way, I try to spy what she’s making tonight.
Fettuccini Carbonara.
“Busy, had a meet with Jackson.” I decide to fill her in and take a seat at the table. I’ve learned over the last month she likes to fight me when it comes to food. It’s starting to become our thing. Tonight I’d rather just sit and let her feed me.
“Detective Carter?” She stops and looks up. “Is everything okay?” She stills as a flash of panic distorts her smile before she covers it up.
“No, still no word. The Mayor has the department looking into it like a missing person. It’s all bullshit if you ask me. They’re just protecting the fucker.” I deliver the bad news wishing I could wipe the disappointment away.