Rather Be Wrong: Ronacks Motorcycle Club Read online

  Her dad grunted.

  "What?" she asked.

  "Listen..." He stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You're my daughter."

  She grinned. "I think we covered all that when you called me after twenty-two years of not seeing me."

  He inhaled swiftly, and she instantly felt bad about reminding him of his absence in her life. "It's a party, Heather. The guys will be drinking and the women there will be hooking up with—"

  "Stop." She laughed. "Seriously. I've lived on my own since I was eighteen. Went to college. Worked. Partied. What happens when people start drinking and loosening up at the clubhouse is no different than at any city club I've gone to in Seattle."

  Her dad let her go. "You can do what you want. You're part of the club."

  "I am?"

  He frowned. "Of course."

  "I didn't know."

  Her dad stepped away. She followed him. "So, I guess I'll drive over to the clubhouse for a while."

  He glanced over his shoulder. "Then, we'll follow you there. It's two o'clock in the morning. One of the guys will follow you home when you're done."

  "That's okay. I'm not going to get drunk. I can drive myself back to the duplex," she said.

  Her dad took out his cell phone. "That's not going to happen."

  Heather looked at Gia for backup. Her father's girlfriend was already done with cleanup and ready to go home and go to bed for the night. "Let me grab my purse, and I'll be ready to go."

  Her dad pocketed his phone. "LeWorth will escort you home."

  Heather nodded. It was easier to bend to her father's strict rules regarding safety than argue about retaining her independence. In the long run, having someone looking out for her safety was a benefit of moving close to her dad. In Seattle, she lived alone and had no family left since she'd lost her mom.

  Though having the club members go out of their way to do a favor for her dad put her in an awkward position when she planned to have sex with one of the bikers.

  Her dad patted Gia's butt and got her moving toward the door. Heather followed a few paces behind them, waved to Raelyn, and ran her fingers through the ends of her hair. God, she probably smelled of spilled beer and smoke off the outside grill. Even with the doors closed, a plume of tangy barbecue wafted inside with each customer arriving.

  Heather ran into the back of Gia when she stopped walking. "Sorry. I wasn't watch—"

  "Gia, take Heather back into the kitchen and call Battery. Tell him to get here fast," said her dad.

  Heather's gaze snapped to her dad at the direct order. Her dad's rigid body turned Gia around and pushed her back into the hallway. Heather caught Gia as she was pushed toward her, holding her arms, and looked at her dad's set expression.

  Her dad lowered his chin. "Move. Now."

  Gia pushed against Heather, backing her away. She glanced behind her dad at the glass door covered in mud. Then, her vision adjusted.

  "Oh, my God," she whispered, prickles tingling down her back.

  Gia pulled Heather's arm. "Come on."

  "B-but, there's blood." She pointed behind her dad at the door. "There's blood everywhere."

  "Get her the fuck out of here." Her dad removed his phone, waving his free arm for them to move.

  Shoved off balance, Heather turned and ran with Gia. Her heart raced, and she grabbed onto Gia.

  "What happened?" Heather stared at Gia using her cell phone. "What was that?"

  "I don't know." Gia raised her cell to her ear. "Battery, it's Gia. Swiss needs you at the bar. It's an emergency."

  Raelyn rushed into the kitchen. "I heard Swiss yelling. What happened?"

  "I don't know." Heather reached for Raelyn's hand and kept her boss in the kitchen with them. "There's blood all over the backdoor."

  "Swiss is checking right now." While Gia spoke into the phone, she looked over at Raelyn. "I will. Yes. Okay."

  Gia disconnected the call. "We need to stay right here. The Ronacks members are coming."

  Raelyn stepped backward. "I need to get Dukie..."

  Gia lunged forward and grabbed her. "You can't go get him."

  "He's my son!" Raelyn pushed back.

  "Dukie's with Pepper upstairs sound asleep. He's safer upstairs until we know more." Gia shook Raelyn's shoulders. "Okay? He'll be fine. I promise. He's upstairs, and we won't let anyone get him."

  Raelyn's two-year-old son was her world. After she had lost her husband, Duke, Raelyn centered her life around raising her son alone, including living upstairs so she could be with him while she managed the bar.

  Heather had seen many scared mothers, pumped up on adrenaline, and making bad decisions through her four years of work at the woman's shelter after college, before coming to Montana. Trained to handle highly toxic situations, she took control of the situation to forget about her dad or what was happening outside.

  "We'll stay with you." Heather guided Raelyn back to the kitchen, casting a glance at Gia, and nodding. "Once everyone gets here, we'll know what is going on. It could be nothing. The bar is on Main Street, and you never know, it could be some guy who walked home after having too many drinks and tripped on the curb or started a fight, and none of this excitement has anything to do with us."

  "Heather's right." Gia flanked Raelyn's other side. "Battery told me everyone was riding to town when I called him, and they'll take care of whatever is going on."

  The hum of motorcycles leaked inside the building. Heather rubbed the sudden chill out of her arms. With the arrival of the bikers, some of her worries disappeared. Her dad would be okay and have his MC brothers there with him to deal with whatever was going on outside the bar.

  "What time does your babysitter leave?" asked Heather, changing the subject to distract Raelyn and to help her stay rational. Her dad was out there. He could handle any problems.

  "On her days, Penny spends the night when she's watching Dukie." Raelyn blew out her cheeks. "She's probably sleeping, too."

  "Good." Heather glanced toward the noise of commotion coming from the back of the hallway out of sight. "Ronacks is here."

  "Gia?" called her dad from the back of the building.

  "I'm here." Gia hurried to the end of the kitchen and peered down the hallway. "Oh, my God."

  Heather's head pounded, and she looked at Raelyn before scrambling around the island in the kitchen and going to see what caused Gia to freak. She barely reached the hallway, and she plastered herself against the wall to make room for all the men rushing inside carrying an unconscious man.

  "What can I do?" asked Heather grabbing Gia as soon as the men passed her.

  "Have Raelyn get a couple of blankets." Gia lowered her voice. "Make sure the door to the upstairs is locked."

  The importance of keeping trouble away from an innocent child sleeping on the second floor of the building wasn't lost on her. Heather skirted the crowd gathered around the island, unable to see what was drawing everyone's attention.

  She reached Raelyn's side. "Do you have a couple of blankets we can give the men?"

  Raelyn stood frozen, staring at the table. Heather squeezed her arm, and when that failed to get Raelyn's attention, she pulled her boss away.

  "Show me where your blankets are," said Heather.

  Raelyn shook her head, rising to the occasion, and pulled Heather down the hallway. "I have some in my office for when the baby comes down and naps in the morning while I work on the books."

  While Raelyn opened the office, Heather turned the knob on the door leading upstairs. It was locked.

  Raelyn shoved two blankets into Heather's waiting arms and turned back around. "Oh, let me get the first aid kit. It's not fancy, but there might be something in there that will help Rod," said Raelyn.

  "Rod?" said Heather, backing away to return to the kitchen.

  "That's who they carried into the kitchen. He's hurt." Raelyn hurried beside her.

  "No, that can't be right," said Heather. "He never came to the bar tonig
ht."

  She'd looked for him constantly through her eight-hour shift. She had planned to go to the clubhouse to find Rod when he failed to show up at the bar.

  Heather moved on instinct.

  She stepped into the room, keeping her distance from the men, and shifted until she found a break in the line of shoulders creating a barrier around the table and spotted an arm with a flannel shirt laying in front of her. She moved until she could see the hand hanging over the side of the table and gasped.

  Rod.

  Almost dropping the blankets in her shock at finding the two large silver rings on Rod's broad fingers that he always wore, she bumped into Gia.

  "Thanks." Gia took the blankets from her and moved over to the table and passed them to LeWorth.

  Battery, the President of Ronacks, ordered everyone out of the room. Heather remained, sidestepping the men moving away from the table. She wasn't going to leave. Rod was hurt.

  "Raelyn, get Heather out of here," said Battery.

  She ignored him and pulled her hand out of Raelyn's grasp. "I'll call for an ambulance."

  "No," said her dad.

  "But, he needs help."

  "That's what I'm trying to do." Her dad hovered over Rod and lifted his gaze. "Does blood bother you?"

  She swallowed hard and shook her head.

  "Okay, then stay and help."

  "What can I do?"

  "Grab me a bottle of Everclear from behind the bar." Her dad used his knife to cut down the middle of Rod's flannel shirt.

  Heather dragged her gaze off Rod, unconscious and covered in blood, and hurried to the other side of the kitchen to follow her dad's instructions.

  "Don't cut his vest or he'll kill you if he wakes up," said Battery, covering the bottom half of Rod's body with the blankets.

  "Let's hope he lives to kill me," mumbled her dad. "I need to stop the bleeding to see if anything important was hit. We might not have any choice over taking him to the hospital."

  "We'll make that decision when we have to." Battery paced the small room.

  Heather hurried to retrieve the alcohol her dad requested. In her worry, she could barely make out the labels in her panic.

  "Heather, hurry up," shouted her dad.

  She found the clear bottle and ran back to the kitchen. "I've got it."

  Standing beside her dad, she received her first view of what happened to Rod. She gripped the countertop on the kitchen island and forced herself to keep breathing.

  The ten-inch cut along the bottom of Rod's ribs gaped open, letting her see his insides, and blood ran thick onto the table. She reached over and grasped Rod's limp hand, squeezing his lifeless fingers. Her heart thundered in her ears. Rod was always quick to respond to her, and his unconsciousness hit her square in the chest.

  Her dad opened the bottle and stepped up to the table. Heather stared at Rod's wound.

  "Is he going to wake up when the Everclear hits him?" asked Battery.

  "No." Her dad poured the alcohol over Rod's abdomen, and then her dad washed his hands with the drink. "He's lost too much blood to wake up."

  Her dad shoved his fingers inside the open cut. Heather turned her gaze away from the sight.

  "You okay?" said Battery.

  She nodded turning her attention back to what her dad was doing to Rod. "Fine."

  "Motherfucker," mumbled her dad on a grunt, forcing his hand deeper.

  Half on top of the table, her dad dug around inside Rod's stomach through the long stab wound. Nausea burned Heather's throat.

  What was her dad doing? Why was he acting like he knew what to do?

  "He's got a nick in his liver." Her dad closed his eyes and probed his large fingers hard enough Rod's unconscious body moved on the table. "Missed his lung."

  "Jesus Christ." Battery ran his hand across his mouth and down his beard.

  "That's it." Her dad removed his hand. "Your call, Prez. His liver will heal, and the blade missed his intestines and lung. Don't ask me how, but the knife went right between them."

  Battery cupped the back of his neck and grimaced. "No hospital. He wouldn't want us to take him there."

  "He's lost a fuck of a lot of blood," added her dad.

  "W-what do you mean no hospital?" Heather asked. "Rod needs to have medical attention and someone to administer to his injury."

  "Baby." Her dad gazed down at her. "Decision is made. Go see if Raelyn has any clean towels."

  "Dad, he needs to go to the hospital," she whispered. "You're not a doctor."

  Her dad ignored her and spoke to Battery. "Out on my bike, the left side bag, there's a black leather pouch. It'll have everything in there to stitch him up."

  "On it," said Battery, leaving the room.

  Her dad had sutures with him?

  Alone with only her dad and Rod, Heather grabbed her dad's shirt sleeve to put an end to the insanity going on in the kitchen. "He's going to die if you don't take him to a doctor."

  "Ronacks doesn't use doctors if we don't have to. Rod has as good a chance of recovering here as he does there." Her dad lifted his chin. "Pour more Everclear over my hands and the rest over Rod. Then find me some clean towels. Raelyn should have some."

  "I can't believe this," she said, refusing to budge. "Rod could die, Dad."

  "Not your job to understand. Rod would tell you the same thing." Her dad leaned back over the table and roughly grabbed the loose skin across Rod's stomach and pulled the edges together. "Now, get me the towels and be quick. He can't afford to lose any more blood."

  She hurried out of the room. Pissed at the idiocy coming from her father and scared to death Rod was going to die. Last night, Rod strutted in the bar in a good mood, giving her his time and attention, almost making her forget she was working during his visit to Pine Grill and Bar.

  Now he laid vulnerable and lost to the world in the kitchen of the bar. Rod's easy banter and his swagger were gone.

  Chapter Five

  Heather's dad straightened his back, exhaled loudly, and turned away from Rod, who hadn't gained consciousness on the kitchen island. "He's all sewn up. That's all I can do."

  "When will he wake up?" Heather held Rod's hand, petting his arm, hoping he'd open his eyes and ask what they were all doing hovering over him.

  Battery, Gia, Raelyn, LeWorth, and Mel had returned to the kitchen moments before her father finished putting in the stitches. Heather could sense the tension in the room as they all waited for her dad to confirm or deny their fears.

  "He lost a lot of blood." Her dad moved over to the sink and motioned for Gia to turn on the water and pour dishwashing soap over his hands and arms. "His body needs to fight back and make up for the blood loss. But, without knowing if he has a head injury along with his wound, I don't know when he'll regain consciousness."

  The base of her neck throbbed. She rubbed Rod's cold fingers between her own. The length of time it took her dad to stitch Rod up, his body temperature had dropped.

  "We need to get him somewhere safe and away from the bar." Battery hooked his hands in his pockets. "Someone will need to stay with him."

  "I will," said Heather. "I can stay at his house."

  Rod lived outside of town in a single-story home, not too far from the bus barn. She'd driven by his place several times on her way to the clubhouse with her dad and Gia, recognizing his motorcycle in his driveway.

  "Baby, we don't know who is responsible for cutting him." Her dad dried off his hands. "He needs to have a member with him for his protection.

  "Then, he can stay with me. You'll be right next door in the duplex." Heather lifted her chin. "You'll be there to protect him, and when you work, one of the other members can come over."

  "No," said her dad.

  Battery cleared his throat. "She's got training to take care of people in an emergency, brother."

  Hope surged in Heather's chest. Before moving to Montana, she'd dealt with many physically and mentally beaten women and children who sought out the woman's
shelter for help. She understood how to stay safe and nurse the wounded. While Rod's injuries were beyond putting a Band-Aid on or handing him an ice pack for a swollen eye or mouth, she could help better than most of the members of Ronacks. She wanted to help.

  Her dad tossed the towel on the counter and studied Heather. She nodded, urging him to hand over permission for Rod to stay with her. It wasn't her responsibility to take care of Rod. He could have sisters or a mother who could step in and help him recover. But his family wasn't here to do the job, she was.

  "I'll need someone to bring him over to the duplex. I only have my bike," said her dad.

  Heather sagged against the island, knowing her car was too small to lay Rod in the backseat, and mouthed, "Thank you."

  She understood her dad's hesitation on allowing her to bring Rod to the duplex. It wasn't too long ago the Yesler Street Gang had terrorized Gia and killed Heather's best friend back in Seattle and then followed Gia to Montana. Her dad wanted all danger kept away from his girlfriend.

  "You can use my car," said Raelyn.

  Mel stepped forward. "I'll drive Rod over and bring the car back to the bar to get my Harley."

  "Will Rod need anything?" Gia leaned into Heather's dad. "Medicine? Liquids?"

  "Probably not tonight." Her dad pulled out his phone. "I'll put a call into JayJay for some Oxy in case Rod wakes up before morning in pain. Later, we'll concentrate on getting some water and meat in him if he lives."

  If.

  He.

  Lives.

  Heather stared down at Rod. He'd live. She wasn't going to give him a chance at dying.

  "Okay, let's get him out to the car." Battery motioned to LeWorth. "Let the others know we're coming out with the women and to be on guard."

  "Will do," said LeWorth, stepping toward the door to follow the order.

  "Heather, grab whatever you need. You can ride with Mel and leave your car here. Gia will ride with me." Her dad rotated his shoulders, tired from the late hour/early morning.

  Heather found her purse and returned to the kitchen to find four Ronacks members picking an unconscious Rod up off the island. She stepped back out of the way and followed them outside.