“Thanks.” I scratched the back of my head as an uneasiness swept over me. “Don’t mention anything to Madeline.”
“Wasn’t going to. Whatever’s going on with Tara, I have a feeling it isn’t good.”
My eyes flashed to Storm’s. He wasn’t one to overreact. It was what made him a damn fine president and leader.
“I need to see her.”
“You will, brother. Just take care of Morrison first. His in-laws are having issues with an unstable cousin in the Pacific Northwest. I don’t want to get caught up in the middle of a family feud. Raul has had enough.”
I nodded, biting my tongue, unhappy with Storm’s demands. Not one fucking bit after what he’d told me about Tara. I needed to see her, inspect her body and then paddle her ass for hurting herself.
I didn’t want to deal with Stephen Morrison’s or his in-laws, the Remotti family—the Mafia family. I didn’t recall him ever mentioning his wife’s cousin. Marrying Rosa Remotti connected Morrison’s crime family to the Italian Mafia. The union benefitted both financially. The Remottis’ were able to move their prime dealings, heroin, into central Canada, the Morrisons’ territory.
The arms business had exploded for us, because of Stephen and Rosa’s marriage. Storm wanted out of everything illegal, so the club would be legit for future generations. The timing just wasn’t right. The club needed the money to get Tina’s daughter out from under her ex’s thumb. We had two members watching Tina’s girl full-time in Montana without the college student’s knowledge. Once we had her under our protection in Minnesota, we’d work on getting out of the gun business.
“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll deal with Morrison. After that, I need at least a couple of days with Tara.” She was too important to me. I had to make things right with her. Mend broken fences.
“You got it.”
After Storm left, they returned me to my cell. Ryder was on his bunk, a grim, almost sick expression on his face.
“Hey, kid. What’s the matter?”
He raised his head. “You’re getting out, aren’t you?”
Well, shit. Was the kid psychic? Naw, news spread fast in this joint. It was also written all over my face.
“Why do you say that?”
The corners of his mouth curved down. “Gut feeling.”
I sat beside him, put my elbows on my knees, and clasped my hands together. “They cleared me of the weed possession. I should be out within an hour.”
“Thought so.”
“You’ll be okay in here.” I focused my attention on a crack in the concrete floor to avoid the disappointment in Ryder’s eyes.
He pffted. “Yeah. Sure.”
I elbowed him. “Hey, you calling me a liar? Not cool.” My tone was light, knowing the boy was in a bad way.
He didn’t respond, dropping his head. My fucking chest burned, feeling some kind of connection with Ryder. It was odd and natural all at once.
To ease his apparent worry, I told him, “When you get out, I have a place for you at the club. I’ll sponsor you to be a prospect if that’s something you’re interested in.”
His head flew up, green eyes shining with unshed tears. The sight of it stabbed me in the heart. “Really?”
“Yes. You’re just the kind of man we need.”
He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. “I hate it here.” His voice cracked. The sound of it put me on alert.
“What happened?” My neck muscles tensed. Fuck, I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear what the kid had to say.
“Before you came, they picked on me. I was afraid someone, another inmate or DO, might try to use me as their bitch.”
Rage flashed in me, that same instinct I had to protect my Roja finding a place in my heart thinking about someone forcing themselves on my buddy here. No, he was more than a buddy. He was about to be a brother.
“Has anyone touched you?” I growled, clenching my hands into fists.