Melancholy
~*~*~*~
2014 – Maddox
“Who do you think shot her, Prez?” Krypt asks, leaning against the desk, crossing his boots.
“I am guessin’ someone from the Tinman’s Soldiers. It has to be. Nothin’ else makes sense. They know we sent her in to save Claire, and now they want revenge. Not to mention all the shit that went down with you and Ash. Wouldn’t take much to figure out what she meant to me. Howard might be in prison, but his VP has stood up and taken his spot. We’re still at war.”
Krypt nods. “Yeah, we fuckin’ are. She got anyone else who might wanna hurt her?”
I shrug. “I don’t fuckin’ know. There are some people from her past...but I don’t know any of them or what they’re about.”
“You told her about her sister yet?”
My eyes shoot to his, and I glare so fuckin’ hard he flinches.
“Calm down,” he snaps, throwing his hands up. “I’m only askin’.”
“I’m not tellin’ her a damned word about her sister, until I know more.”
“You got any more?”
“Nothin’.”
“Nothin’ at all?”
“I got a name.”
Krypt nods, encouraging me on.
“Kennedy Bayne.”
Krypt flinches. “Say again?”
“Kennedy Bayne.”
“Motherfucker,” Krypt barks.
“What?”
“Kennedy Bayne is in prison, Maddox. I know, I heard his name when I was in there.”
My eyes wide and I step forward. “That so?”
“That’s so. The fucker is in there for drug possession. He’s a huge dealer, but he got fucked over.”
I reach up, running a hand through my hair. Santana was high as a fuckin’ kite when I found her, and she’d been that way for a while. She used to murmur the name Kennedy in her sleep, but she never told me what the man meant to her. I’m assuming it’s the same man. After all, his name is linked to her sister.
“How does he fall into this shit with her sister?” Krypt asks.
I swing my eyes to him. “He’s a name that keeps poppin’ up.”
“Santana know him?”
“Far as I know, yeah. She won’t tell me what he means to her.”
Krypt thinks about that, then mutters, “You thought of takin’ her to him and findin’ out?”
“No fuckin’ way,” I bark. “I don’t know what that man means to her, or even if he’s the same one, and until I do I’m not tellin’ her where he is. She is in enough danger. Until I know he’s no threat, she ain’t goin’ to know about any of this.”
“She’s goin’ to hate you, Prez. She’s goin’ to fuckin’ lose her shit when she finds out what you’ve been hidin’.”
I lift a smoke, lighting it and pressing it to my lips. “I know that.”
“Well, you got my silence. What’re you gonna do about Kennedy?”
I smirk at Krypt as I take a long drag. “I’m goin’ to pay him a visit.”
CHAPTER THREE
2014 – Santana
I fall asleep as soon as Maddox leaves, and remain that way until a hand touches my shoulder. I flutter my eyes open and look up to see Mack, standing over me. A small croak leaves my throat as a big smile appears on my lips. He leans down, brushing his scratchy lips over my forehead. “How you doin’, chante?”
I smile at his nickname for me, which means ‘heart’ and reach out, touching his cheek. “Chief,” I whisper. “You haven’t called me.”
He grins. He hates being called Chief, and I’m the only one he allows to get away with it without a fight. Mack is Native American, and one of the most breathtaking men I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, aside from Maddox.
He’s got these deep, dark brown eyes set in the most defined, chiseled face I’ve ever seen on a man. He has a square jaw, full lips, and dark olive skin that’s so silky, it’s hard not to reach out and touch it. His long, thick, dark brown hair flows halfway down his back.
He’s tall, lean but beautifully muscled, and doesn’t have one tattoo on his perfect skin. He’s a bad boy, though. More temperamental and aggressive than half the bikers in the club. Mack had a hard life, and was adopted out to Maddox’s family when he was only five. No one really knows his history.
Mack runs a hand over his jaw. “I’ve been busy.”
I pout at him, and he grins again, leaning down to kiss my lips. Mack and I have always had a good relationship. He was the solid rock when I was coming out of my drug haze. Maddox stayed by my side, night and day, but it was Mack who kicked my ass when I didn’t want to go on. He never showed me any sympathy; he just pulled me out and made me start again.
“Well,” I say when he pulls away. “I should announce to the world that I’ve been kissed by the maddest biker around.”
He snorts. “That wasn’t a kiss, chante, it was a fuckin’ peck.”
“Am I not good enough to get a real kiss from you, Chief?”
He laughs throatily. “Course you are, but my brother would cut my cock off and feed it to me in pieces.”
I laugh. “He would not.”
“Oh, he would.”
I reach out and take his hand. His rough fingers are covered with a whole lot of scars. “How have you been?”