“Where?” I asked, getting out my phone.
“Kilgore, just north of the valley. About twenty miles.”
“I know where it is. Text me the address. I’ve got someone who can handle it.” I said, pulling up Bullseye’s number.
Me: Got a job for ya.
Bullseye: okay?
Me: Kilgore. Suspected fucker. Possible kid. Snatch and grab only if a kid is present.
Bullseye: Address?
Me: Sending now…
After sending the text, I put my phone back in my cut when two text messages came in, one from Shamrock and Snake.
Sham: I got a present for ya.
Snake: it wasn’t me. I swear.
“What the fuck?” I groaned, getting to my feet. “I knew those fuckers couldn’t behave. Gave them one fucking job. Take Remi shopping, and they fucked that up. Come on, boys. We gotta get back to the club and fix what those crazy fuckers fucked up.”
“Told ya not to send them,” Hellhound muttered, downing the last of the scotch from the bottle.
Ignoring my uncle, I headed for the stairs and out of the club. Hopping on my bike, I wasted no time, peeling out of the parking lot, heading for home with my brothers behind me.
The drive at night should have helped calm me down, but instead, I couldn’t get my mind to stop whirling. Having Remi out and about grated me badly. Without the safety of the clubhouse, I worried about every little thing. I knew I couldn’t keep her cooped up forever, but fuck if I didn’t want to try. She’d been through so much already, and I refused to let anyone harm her again.
I stopped in front of the clubhouse and killed the motor, already missing the rumble of my bike. Sometimes all I wanted to do was ride forever and not give a damn about anything or anyone but the open road.
Entering the clubhouse, we all stopped dead in our tracks as Remi tore into Shamrock and Snake.
“You could have seriously hurt me!”
“I didn’t mean to scare ya, Remi. I swear!” Shamrock replied solemnly, pleading with her.
“I don’t care. You do not kill people in public. What if someone saw? You’d be in jail right now.”
“I would have taken care of the pig,” Snake replied and quickly shut his mouth when Remi started in on him. Pointing her dainty finger at his chest, she scolded, “Taken care of? You mean kill him! You are not allowed to kill police officers Snake. Ever! You hear me?”
The big man nodded in earnest, “Yes ma’am.”
“And you! How am I going to explain this?” She shouted at Shamrock again, waving her hand up and down her body. “Blood! I am covered in blood.”
“It’ll wash out,” Shamrock replied.
“Yeah, just use a bit of bleach,” Snake added helpfully.
“I am not using bleach on Max’s clothes! It will stain them. Seriously guys! I allowed Deloris and Beulah to come along, and I didn’t complain once. But throwing a huge knife at my head is too much! Never again. I mean it. I don’t care if the US ARMY has surrounded me…do not ever throw a knife at my head again!”
“I wasn’t aiming at you, Remi. Just the fucker who was holdin’ ya. My aim was true. I wouldn’t have knicked ya, I swear! That fucker had his hands on ya.”
“And now I am covered in his blood. Wait till Max sees me. He is going to freak out! I’m going upstairs to wash up, and you better pray the blood comes out of his shirt because if it doesn’t, I will not explain how it got there. You will!”
With that, Remi stomped up the stairs, and a second later, a loud bang was heard as she slammed the bedroom door. Shamrock and Snake didn’t bother moving from their spot as I walked forward. Taking a deep breath, I counted to ten before I spoke.
“What happened?”