Page 32 of Smitty

“To find out.” Grim cocked a brow. “It wouldn’t take him long.”

“He’s right,” Skid agreed. “He can have you an answer before we get back home.”

I glanced back toward the carousel, where Brooke had disappeared and my questions began. I had no doubt that Shep could find out everything there was to know about Brooke and the little girl, but if that little girl was mine, I wanted to hear it from Brooke. “No.”

They all looked surprised by my response.

They didn’t get it. I didn’t want Shep digging through Brooke’s life like she was some stranger. She wasn’t. She was Brooke, the woman I’d once loved. I’d spent two years trying to forget her but never did. Now, I knew why.

“If that little girl belongs to me, I don’t want to find out from some file Shep finds on his computer… I want to hear it from her.”

The words had barely left my mouth when Grim’s burner started to ring. He pulled it from his pocket, and his expression turned fierce when he glanced down at the screen. Noting the drastic change in his demeanor, Skid immediately asked, “What is it?”

“It’s Creed.” Grim’s jaw tightened. “He wants us at the clubhouse, ASAP.”

That was all it took.

Skid pulled his keys from his pocket and handed them to Laken. “You girls take my truck and take Jenna and Luna home. I’ll meet you at the house when I can.”

Grim gave Jenna a kiss on the cheek, promising to be home as soon as he could, and then, he charged toward his truck. He and Skid climbed inside, while I got on my bike. It was strange how quickly the mood had changed. One second, we were at the fair talking about Brooke and a little girl who might be mine. And the next, we were springing into action.

The ride to the clubhouse felt off. Maybe it was because my head was already a mess from seeing Brooke, or maybe it was the look on Grim’s face when he read that message. Either way, the closer we got, the more anxious I became.

When we pulled through the gate, I knew something was bad wrong. Every bike was there, which meant every brother had been called in. That only happened when trouble was on the horizon, or it had already come knocking. Shit. This was the last thing I needed right now.

I killed the engine and eased off my bike. I pulled off my helmet and followed Grim and Skid inside. Nobody said a word as we headed into the bar. Everyone was gathered around, and I could almost feel the tension crackling around us.

Preacher stood near the end of the bar, and the second he saw us, he stepped to the center of the room. Everyone went silent as we waited to hear whatever news he was about to drop on us. Every eye was locked on him as he announced, “Gus was attacked tonight.”

A string of low curses echoed through the bar.

Gus was the president of the Memphis chapter. I’d only been around him a handful of times, but I’d heard the stories. He was one of the originals and was sent to Memphis to start a new chapter. He did, and he did it well. Their chapter had grown into one of the fiercest groups of men in the South, and everyone knew it was entirely due to Gus and the way he led his men.

He was a good man who was respected and slightly feared by all, including me. Goose was the first to step up and ask, “What the hell happened?”

“He and his ol’ lady had gone out to eat somewhere in the city, and they’d barely made it to the parking lot before three assholes jumped him. They did a real number on him.”

The room went silent, but only long enough for Grim to collect himself and ask, “Any idea who it was?”

“Not yet. They’re looking into it.”

“What about his ol’ lady?”

“Didn’t lay a hand on her.”

“Well, at least, there’s that.”

The silence that followed felt different, heavier and full of contempt. We knew this wasn’t some random robbery. It wasn’t some drunk assholes looking for trouble. This was targeted.

“How is he?” Memphis asked with concern.

“Broke his jaw and a couple of ribs.” Prez winced when he added, “Looks like they were wearing brass knuckles.”

“Motherfucker,” Grim grumbled.

“Pretty sure he’s got a concussion, but won’t know for sure until they get the results back from the CT.”

“They wanted him hurt… not dead.” Grim glared at Prez. “Smells dirty to me.”