Rough & Rowdy (Notorious Devils #1) (17 page)

I won't be around much but I'll text you every night.

Take care of my baby and take care of you.

-Pierce

I run my fingers over the note, and can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.

Then, I take the cash out and count it.
Three thousand dollars
. I count it a second time, just to make sure, and then I stare at it in surprise.

Pierce already paid the deposit and the first month’s rent on the house. He paid all the fees for opening utilities, too. There’s no way I can spend this much on food for just me.

I decide that I can buy some maternity clothes, which I desperately need, and I want to look at prints to decorate the walls with.

I grin to myself.

I take half of the money and put it in the nightstand. No way do I need the full amount in clothes or pictures for the house.

I spend the day shopping. Buying maternity clothes for work, and then for around the house. My clothing options have become slim lately, nothing is fitting, and rubber bands holding my jeans closed can only work for so long.

Once I have bought some basics, I decide to look at the home decor store. As much as I want to go wild, I decide to stick with necessities. The whole trip only eats up seven hundred of the fifteen hundred I took with me.

I go to the grocery store and spend another two hundred dollars, and then put the rest of the cash back in the envelope to join the half from this morning.

Later that evening, my phone rings. I surprised to see that Pierce is calling me instead of texting.

“Hello,” I answer excitedly.

“Baby girl, how was your day?” he asks.

His voice is low but the background noise is loud, like a party.

“I went shopping, bought some maternity clothes. But Pierce, you left me way too much money,” I scold. He chuckles.

“Sugar, spend it all. I have plenty. Miss you,” he murmurs.

I hear a girl’s high pitch giggle in the background.

“Pierce, where are you?” I ask. He doesn’t say anything.

“Just campin’ at another club for the night, and then onward tomorrow morning. Having a few beers before I hit the sack, baby girl,” he grumbles.

It makes my stomach flip, and not in a good way. I can hear the loud voices, male and female, in the background, along with loud music. He’s partying. I need to trust him, though. It’s hard, and I might have to force myself, but I need to do it.

“Okay, Pierce,” I whisper, trying to keep my tears at bay.

“Remember what I promised you, Kentlee?” he asks.

I don’t say anything.
I can’t.
He’s promised me a lot, and so far, I think he’s delivered. Now, I’m not so sure.

“Only cunt I want is yours, baby girl. Nobody else’s,” he vows. I nod like he can see me.

“Only you, Kentlee,” he says again.

“Only me,” I finally whisper.

“There’s my good girl,” he says. I can tell that he’s smiling.

“Okay, I’m okay,” I promise. I hear him laugh.

“Get some sleep, sugar. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promises.

I hang up, feeling his promise is true; yet I can’t stop that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that’s telling me –
something is not right
.

Fury

Last night’s party was insane. Pussy everywhere—naked and waiting. My brothers know how to party, no matter what chapter we visit, and these Canadians are no different. I stayed true to Kentlee. I promised her I wouldn’t fuck any whores, and I didn’t.

That doesn’t mean I kept my eyes shut, though. I grin, thinking about all the little shows those whores put on for us last night.
Fucking epic shit
. Girl on girl is always a favorite view of mine, and those bitches did not disappoint.

Now, I’m in work mode.

This shipment has to make it to the Aryan’s or we’ll be out, not only a fuckton of cash, but also a client. I, personally, wouldn’t give a fuck about being out a client like these racist bastards; but at this point, it wouldn’t be an amicable split. The last thing we need are more enemies. We have our hands full with the Bastards as it is.

We make our way just back over the US/Canadian border and wait for the truck full of guns and ammo. If protection is what this truck wants, it’s going to get it. There are twenty-five of us waiting to ride this fucker from the border to Calgary. Five of my brothers and me, then twenty of our Canadian club brothers.

I take over driving the truck.

Letting the paid-off driver leave, I take matters into my own hands.

The roads are clear and it seems like we’re going to get the shipment where it needs to be, on time, and unharmed.

It all seems way too easy.

I watch as my brothers start peeling off from behind me, the bikes disappearing one by one. Suddenly, I am surrounded by cops.

I slam on the truck’s breaks and come to a stop.

Fuck.

Fucking Shit.

I watch as they step out of their police cars and draw on me. I look around and notice that I’m alone.

Guns are drawn, and I’m alone.

Just a whole truck full of illegal guns and ammo trying to cross the border from the US into Canada, and me.

Numbly, I follow the police officers barked orders, but my thoughts aren’t on them.

My heart starts racing and images flash through my mind.

I can’t stop myself from thinking about Kentlee and our baby.

This is
it
for us.

I am so fucking fucked.

I narrow my eyes as I lift my hands at the officer’s commands.

How in the fuck did they know I was transporting illegal guns? Unless they were tipped off somehow, a plain truck shouldn’t have drawn attention. I sit in the back of a patrol car, my mind moving from Kentlee to exactly what’s happening to me. Finally breaking out of my shock, the only conclusion I can come up with is that someone is in on it from the inside.

Problem is, I don’t know who. My club or the Canadian club?

Someone is dirty and I plan on smoking the fucking rat out.

This isn’t the first time in my thirty-five years that I have been arrested, but this is the first time I give half a shit.

This is the first time I have someone waiting for me.

This is the first time I know I’m not going to just skate on by.

This is also the first time I have been in serious fucking shit.

I close my eyes and curse to myself as I am read my rights, as they march me toward a police cruiser. It doesn’t even matter. I’m fucked no matter what I do. I don’t say a word as I’m hauled to jail. My next step won’t be bail. I already know this.

My next fucking step is goddamn fucking prison.

Hours later, I am told to make a phone call, and as much as I want to call Kentlee, I can’t. I need my attorney. Not just our decent attorney in Idaho, but I need my Pops’ federal attorney.

This isn’t just a slap on the wrist.

The local cops have already informed me that the Feds are on their way to drag me to their own turf.

Fucking Feds.

I am so fucking fucked.

My attorney tells me to sit tight, don’t say shit, and wait. He agrees I won’t be given bail and says he’ll get started on my case immediately. Luckily, my dad has given the guy enough money over the years that he considers me an urgent case.

I can’t think about anything, though, except for the woman who is waiting for me back at home.

Kentlee and my baby.

I try not to think about the fact that I didn’t make her my Old Lady. She’s not going to have the support of the club for our baby, and I just moved her into a place that she can’t afford on her own.

I’m such a piece of shit.

I should declare her immediately, but I can’t.

Declaring her my Old Lady makes her a prime target for the
Bastards
.

Without me there to protect her, I’ll have to lean on my brothers. I could do it, but do I think that they’ll protect her as good as I will?
Nope
.

I have to bank on the fact that she’s a big girl and can take care of herself. She will. Hopefully, she’ll understand. I don’t want her to be a target. I have to protect her the only way I know how from here, and that’s to
not
claim her.

The only hope I have is that Bates knows she’s mine.

He’ll take care of her.

Kentlee

I
want to believe in Pierce and I want to trust him, but he makes it so damn hard—all of the time. I only heard from him that first night he was gone. I’ve been trying to fill my time with working as many hours as Mr. Walker will allow.

It’s Friday now, and I’m sitting in my doctor’s office, lifting my shirt while he rubs cold goop on my belly. The little wand he uses presses against my stomach and then the quiet room is filled with the sounds of my baby’s heartbeat. It’s gorgeous and miraculous all at once.

I am so pissed that Pierce isn’t here to witness it.

Once I am finished at the doctors, after I answer all of his questions—yes, I feel okay; morning sickness isn’t too bad; yes, I’m drinking plenty of fluids; and yes, I’m taking my pre-natal vitamins—I go home.

I’m tired and I feel nervous.

I've tried calling Pierce since last night, worried that I hadn’t heard from him and worried he wouldn’t make it today, but there was no answer
. I had a right to worry. He never showed and he still hasn’t called.

I change into a pair of leggings and a tank that is too tight around my belly. I’m home alone; nobody is going to see me. I just need to breathe. Hours tick by with nothing—no texts and no calls.

I wonder if the pressure of this new life has gotten to him.

Has he run off, never to be heard from again?

I don’t think he would leave his club; the men there are like brothers to him. And he’s their leader – their president.

A knock on my door around eleven in the evening startles me. I walk to the peephole and see none other than Bates Lukin standing on the other side
. I don’t hesitate
. I open the door and he strolls right inside.

Once I have closed the door behind him, I look into his face and I gasp. He looks worried and stressed. I haven’t seen him look this way since the day he left for boot camp all those years ago.

“Bates?” I question. He sighs.

“Sit down, babe,” he mumbles as he sits on the corner of my sofa, his arm across the back and his legs spread out.

I do as he instructs, my body automatically moving. Something is so wrong, I can feel it in the room. It’s so heavy, I can practically taste the doom swirling around us.

“It’s Fury,” he says. I shake my head.

“No, he’s hurt?
Worse
?” the words fall from my trembling lips. Bates just shakes his head.

“Arrested. Don’t look good, babe,” he informs me with a blank stare.

I can’t stop the tears from flowing.

“Where is he? When will he be out? What happened?” I rattle off.

Bates moves closer to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Gun trafficking across the Canadian border means federal time, babe. He’s being held in Boise without bail. Has a good lawyer, so hopefully he won’t be in for too long,” he mutters.

I look into his eyes. They’re full of sympathy and pity and I hate it.

“When can I see him?”

“He didn’t put you on the list of visitors,” he grunts.
My breaking heart shatters.

“Seriously?” I ask as the tears continue to fall from my eyes.

“I’m going tomorrow to see him. I’ll try to talk him into putting you on the list, and I’ll get more details about the whole thing then,” he explains.

It fucking hurts.

The outright pity he’s looking at me with
kills
.

“What am I going to do, Bates? I just moved in here and I can’t afford the rent, let alone anything for the baby. I am so fucked,” I whisper. Bates gives me a little shake.

“The baby?” he asks. I nod.

God, he doesn’t know. Pierce never told him.

“Don’t worry about any of that right now, babe. I’ll help you figure something out,” he says.

I want to believe him, I truly do, but I see nothing but doom for my future.
Destitution and doom
. I have no familial support aside from Connellee, and Pierce is gone.

“You’ll let me know more when you find out?” I ask through my sobs.

He just hums as he holds me close. It’s friendly. He’s my friend, and he’s exactly what I need right now. Eventually, I feel my exhausted eyes begin to close. Then my body is being lifted and carried to my bed.

“Sleep. I’ll contact you when I know more,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead before he leaves me alone.

So fucking alone.

I can’t help myself.

I cry some more.

Bates Lukin - Sniper

That dickhead.

I get on my bike, leaving Kentlee alone and fucking broken.

I ride to the clubhouse for emergency church.

Drifter will take the gavel as acting president since Fury is gone. Drift is a good guy, but a total hothead.