Tack nodded, reaching out to nab his own beer as Rush took his seat.
Tack threw back a swallow, put the beer down and leveled his eyes on Rush.
“Meet tomorrow with Valenzuela, you’re goin’ in with me,” he announced.
Rush instantly went alert.
“It’s taking place in Ally Nightingale’s conference room,” Tack carried on. “Neutral ground. Knight, Rhash, Valenzuela, you and me. In case Valenzuela plans to do something stupid, Hound’ll have the underground parking garage covered. Snap and High’ll be on their bikes, riding the perimeter of the building. Hop’s comin’ up but standing sentry outside the offices. Shy’s got the lobby. The other brothers will be close and on alert.”
“Why’m I goin’ in with you?” Rush asked.
Tack sat back. “Because it’s time, son.”
“Time for what?”
“We’ve got the bones.”
Rush expelled a long breath like someone had landed one in his gut, but the blow had hit slowly.
And letting out that air felt good.
“Your girl’s brother, his man and their friend delivered them to us a few hours ago. They’re now in a pit with lye. It’s done,” Tack declared.
Apparently, D and Maddox did have something to celebrate.
They all did.
Good Christ.
Christ.
Rush allowed the relief of that to filter for a beat before he asked, “How’d they pull that off?”
“It was her way, I’d ask that woman to recruit the Club. First female to wear a patch. She’s somethin’ else.”
The little he saw, what Diesel and Maddox said, he was getting that.
Still.
“That doesn’t explain how she pulled it off.”
“She made friends with Mamá Nana.”
There it was.
Slowly, Rush smiled.
“So she’s a miracle worker,” he noted, having met Mamá Nana twice in his life.
Once when he was a kid, and she’d given him a warm smile and a bag of Mexican candy.
Once when he was a patched-in brother, and she’d stared at him like she knew he’d fingered Donna Winters to an orgasm in the janitor’s closet at school his junior year, and she did not approve of that behavior even a little.
“No, she’s just got a vagina. Mamá’s partial to women. And finally, Valenzuela made an enemy of someone who could outmaneuver him.” He paused. “Make that two.”
“Righteous, Dad,” he murmured.
“Gets better, Rush,” Tack said. “Apparently Sixx, Diesel and Maddox made a sex tape starring Valenzuela that he’s not gonna wanna get out. I don’t know what that’s gonna show, but she says she’ll be burning us a copy. Consequently, he’ll be sharing with us tomorrow he’s leaving Denver. And Sixx investigated his finances. His payoff to that Mistress he worked over will cripple him. He’ll have enough to get out of Denver and then it’s done.”
Holy fuck.
Years of dicking with this motherfucker were over?
“It’s done?” Rush asked.
“With Valenzuela it is,” Tack confirmed.
Jesus.
Well okay.
Right.
Back to business.
“In other words, he’s no longer a problem, so you don’t need both your lieutenants with you,” Rush deduced about the meeting.
“In other words, we find Chew, it’s finally done and it’s time for you to take over.”
Rush’s head jerked before his whole body stilled.
“Puttin’ it out there so you get it,” Tack went on. “Hop’s battle fatigued. This gets done, he wants it to be about Lanie and Nash, Mol and Cody. He’s earned that. He should get it.”
Still in shock, Rush forced himself to nod.
Tack kept going.
“Shy says, soon, he and Tab are gonna try for my second grandchild. Two little ones at home, Tab wants to go back at work, he’s gonna have to pitch in more because he doesn’t want his kids to spend all their time with Big Petey, ’cause they’re gonna start thinking Pete’s their daddy. He won’t have the time. But he’ll make a good Vice President.”
Rush just stared at his dad.
“Joke is about the builds, Carissa and knockin’ her up again as soon’s it’s safe seein’ as she wants about fifteen kids. Snap’ll be a good Sergeant at Arms, but he’ll be putting a ring on Rosalie’s finger soon and they’ll be starting a family. Hound doesn’t have the temperament for it, or the diplomacy, but it doesn’t matter. He’s all about Keely right now in a way that won’t change for around about eternity.”
That was definitely right.
All of it.
But Hound especially.
Tack kept at it.
“Zadie and Cleo are gettin’ old enough to appreciate what they’ll get out of it, so High wants to start takin’ them and Millie on trips. They enjoyed the fuck outta Paris. Italy’s next. Then Australia.”
Rush sat immobile, kept his mouth shut and his mind focused on his dad’s words.
But it couldn’t help but leak in, how much life had been put on hold for fucking Benito Valenzuela.
And motherfucking Chew.
“We all know why Arlo can’t have the gavel,” Tack said.
“Yeah,” Rush pushed out.
“Brick’s goin’ back to the western slope. Stella’s good to be here while this is going down, but she wants to go home. And Brick’s president of that charter now Dog’s back in Denver. He needs to see to his crew. You know Dog and Sheila been havin’ problems conceiving.” His voice dropped. “Sheila’s not getting any younger, Rush. She’s begun to give up hope. They’re gonna be starting some new treatments. Dog wants his focus on gettin’ his woman through that with hopefully a baby at the end.”
“Right,” Rush said when his dad didn’t go on.
So his dad went on.
“Roscoe and Speck aren’t ready. You do a couple of terms, my grandkids get older, Shy might be on board to take over. Or Snap. Maybe Joker. Though I see Dutch in the future, he just has to earn his patch, and we both know he will. But you’ll have your time to take the Club where you want them to be.”
“Dad—”
“For me, I want to give Tyra and Ride and Cut what I could not give you and Tabby.”
These words were so heavy, Rush did not interrupt them when they kept coming.
“That was what cut the worst, Rush. I wanted a certain life for my babies, and it was not in my power to give it to them. They had to watch me fight for it. They had to feel the loss of a man they loved dying for it. I got a second chance, son, and I wanna take it.”
Rush sucked in a big breath to hold in just how much he wanted his dad to have that.
Tack kept going.
“I want to give a life to my woman where she doesn’t have shit hanging over her head, and her man’s called down the mountain, leavin’ her to look after our boys and watch them grow up and fight and pull shit and be funny and be sweet, all of that, I’m gone so fuckin’ much taking care of business, I’m missing. I want my phone to stop ringing. I want my Sundays not to be this,” he tossed a hand over the papers in front of him, “but instead kicking back in front of the TV with my wife and making my family big Sunday meals.”
Rush was glad most of the feeling he had sounded in the words when he said, “I want that for you too, Dad.”
Tack nodded, his face warming.
“It won’t be a dump and dash,” he assured. “I’ll show you. I’ll teach you. I’ll help you. And no way Red is gonna give up what she does. If she doesn’t have something outside our home, she’d lose her mind. So you’ll have her and it goes without saying, you’ll always have me.”
“Right, but Dad—”
“This gets done, we’re focusing on Chaos.”
Rush’s entire frame turned to stone.
Was he saying . . . ?
“No more patrolling,” Tack declared.
Another blow to the gut.
And this one felt twice a sweet.
Tack carried on.