Rand
"Donna! You need to calm down!" Doug said, his voice firm. There were cops everywhere trying to get a handle on the situation, and Donna's histrionics weren't helping.
"Don't tell me to calm down!" she screamed. "You said you could protect us! You said we'd be safe!"
"You need to go," Bryan said firmly.
"Bryan," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder and drawing him away from his distraught wife. Doug wasn't getting anywhere so I thought I'd try. Not that the BRMC had a leg to stand on. If someone had ridden up and shot up my house, I'd be pissed off, too. "We're doing the best we can. Rog took a bullet for you tonight. What else do you expect us to do?"
"I don't know, but what you're doing isn't enough!"
"If you want to take your family and leave town for a few days, I understand, but if you knuckle under now, the Orcas will know they've gotten to you. If they organized a hit, they have to be close. We'll find them."
"You've been saying that for two fucking weeks!"
"Don't you think I know that?" I snapped, but then took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I forced down my annoyance. "We've been following up on every sighting that could even remotely be the Orcas," I said more calmly. "Look, I know this shit isn't supposed to happen in Bayport, but this is what it's going to be like if the Orcas move into town, so unless you plan on selling your house and relocating your business, you need to work with us on this."
"You expect me to sit around and do nothing while thugs are shooting at my family?"
"I expect you to man the fuck up and help protect not only your family, but the families of your friends and neighbors, like we're trying to do."
Bryan glared at me. "What do you expect me to do?"
"Get your wife calmed down and have her stop making wild accusations to start with. I'll talk to Doug. You're obviously their prime target, so we'll put an escort on you and your family. But we have to start locking your family down as much as possible. No more piano lessons and dance recitals until we get this problem resolved, okay? If Roger getting shot trying to protect you isn't proof of our commitment, I don't know what will be."
Bryan glared at me a moment then sighed. "Okay. I'll talk to her. How is he?"
"I don't know."
"When you find out, let me know?"
I gripped him on the shoulder. "You got it."
"Let's go," I said as I walked past Doug.
"We need toβ"
"We need to go!" I said, talking over him.
Doug followed me to the curb. "What the hell's your problem?"
"Look, Bryan's scared, Donna's scared, and Libby and Melissa are scared. How would you like it if someone came by your house in the middle of the night and shot it full of holes? I talked to Bryan and he'll come around, but not with us in there stirring up the shit with his wife."
"Goddammit, this isn't our fault! What does he expect from us! Roger was shot because of them!" Doug snarled.
"I know it, and Bryan knows it, and Donna probably knows it, too. But they need time to calm down before they'll see that, and you trying to convince them everything is going to be okay is only pissing everyone off because it
not fucking okay
!"
"Don't you think I fucking know that?" Doug yelled, getting into my face, before backing off. "Sorry, brother. It's not your fault either. We're overmatched here and I don't know what to do about it. They have unlimited resources compared to us and they have us on the defensive. We don't know when, where, or how they'll hit next."
"This'll wake up the cops. Maybe they'll start taking us a little more seriously now."
"The Orcas are turning us into the bad guys," Doug growled, "and I don't know how to stop it."
"I know, but we better figure out something, and fast, before somebody breaks. Once that happens, and they get a toehold, we're going to be in a world of shit."
"Goddammit," Doug muttered again.
Tonight was supposed to be my night off, but rather than drag another brother out in the middle of the fucking night, I made a decision. I didn't have to get up and be at work at any certain time in the morning.
"I'll stay for the rest of Rog's shift. Go find out how he is and let me know. Bryan wants to know too."
"Yeah, okay. This shit is getting out of hand."
"No shit," I agreed
The Orcas were fucking with us, and it was royally pissing me off. That stunt Carl had pulled last night had sent Hanna spiraling into depression. I couldn't decide if he called her to simply torture her because he's a sadistic bastard, or if he's concerned that her helping us would interfere with his plans and wanted to get her away from us.
After his call, we'd gone to bed, and though she hadn't cried, she'd clung to me, her cuddle more desperate than relaxed. I'd felt terrible for her, and if I ever caught that cruel son of a bitch alone, I was going to derive a great deal of pleasure from kicking his ass.
This afternoon, as I stood silently beside her, she'd used my phone to call him back. Neither of us expected it to work, but she'd told him she was alone, and that she was willing to come back to him so long as he'd stop hitting her, and asked where they could meet to talk about her return. He'd forced her to plead for his forgiveness, which she'd done, but in the end, he wouldn't agree to meet. Unfortunately, Carl wasn't as stupid as he was mean, and he'd hung up after telling me goodbye, leaving her even more depressed.
After the last of the BPD left, I huddled into the shadows of the Wells' front porch. I didn't think the Orcas would be stupid enough to come back tonight, but I didn't see a reason to make a target of myself. Normally when I was pulling my detail, I wandered... mostly to stay awake, but tonight I stayed close to the house.
I heard the soft wail of an approaching sport bike and stepped away from the porch and into the yard. A moment later Dex pulled to a stop at the curb behind my Harley. I waited beside his bike as he dismounted. I didn't want to talk close to Bryan's house, afraid he'd hear our voices outside, jump to the wrong conclusion, and come out shooting. I smiled to myself. I didn't know if he even had a gun, but I bet after tonight, he would.
"How you doing, brother?" Dex, a rangy man with hair so blond it was almost gold, asked as he removed his helmet.
"Been better. Any news on Rog?"
"Yeah. I stopped by the hospital on the way here. He was still in surgery, but from what I could find out, he was in no serious danger. He's a tough shit."
I nodded. "Good."
"I can't believe the Orcas pulled this shit. A drive by shooting? Are they out of their fucking minds?"
"They're just mean bastards and don't give a shit," I growled. "Carl, Hanna's ex, called her last night, told her that her kid was sick, and wanted her to beg to come back."
"That's a real dick move."
"Yeah. She called him today and tried to con him into telling her where he was."
"No dice, huh?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Fuck. I don't know how we're going to handle this, especially now that we're a man down. This being out all night is getting old as fuck."
"Yeah," I agreed.
He jerked his head at my bike. "You should go. You've done enough tonight."
I yawned. "Yeah. Try not to get your ass shot off."
"Yeah... though if I just took it in the chest like Rog did, at least I won't have to be out here standing in the dark."
"Fuck. He got shot in the chest?"
Dex shook his head. "Kind of, but not really. Here," he said as he touched me about halfway between my left nipple and my collar bone.
"He was lucky," I murmured.
"Yeah, or not, depending on how you looked at it. Six inches left, it would have missed him. Six inches right... and he might be in the morgue instead of surgery."
"Fuck..." I muttered again.
"Go home. Get some rest."
I yawned again. "I think I will. Call if you need anything."
I saw his smile in the dim light of the streetlamps. "I will, but I won't."
I mounted up, the damp seat soaking through the ass of my jeans as I tightened my helmet. I thumbed my bike to life and then pulled away from the curb, going easy on the throttle so to not wake the neighborhood. The ride refreshed me, and I was wide awake as I crept through the gates across the drive, slowing to a stop to latch and lock them, something I hadn't bothered with when I left three hours ago.
I crept to my trailer, barely above idle, before switching the bike off. I kicked it back into he shed, and then opened the door to my trailer as quietly as possible. Hanna was sitting on the couch in the dark, wearing her sleepshirt.
"Bad?" she asked softly.
"Bad enough," I replied as I settled beside her. "Looks like Rog is going to be okay, but everyone at the Wells' are freaked out."
"As anyone would be," she murmured.
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry I brought this shit to you."
"What are you talking about? This was already going down before you got involved."
"Maybe."
"No maybe."
"I just feel like... no matter what I do... everything around me turns to absolute shit. Now you and theβ"
"This has nothing to do with you. Nothing."
"Are you sure? How do you know Carl didn't shoot up that house because of what happened in the restaurant as a warning? How do you know this didn't escalate because of me?"
"How do you know that it did?"
She sighed. "I don't."