...or something: Ronacks Motorcycle Club (22 page)

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "You knew me?"

He nodded, not letting her grasp everything until he'd told her the whole story. "Your dad let a group of men who'd left Russia and came to Montana work from the back room at the bar. They were quiet, only knew a few words of English at the time. The rent they paid gave your folks extra money they needed to get the bar going and start their family."

Bree's eyes flickered back and forth from his left to his right eye and back again as she tried to connect the dots before he gave her the information. He pushed on, needing her to grasp only the important parts.

"It turned out that the Russians were pushing dirty money and your dad found out. He told them to leave, and they refused. They threatened your family and your dad had no option but to put up with them working in his building and dictating his way of life." He raised Bree's hands and pressed them to his mouth. "During this time, I continued doing what Ronacks MC does and provided security for the bar, worked behind the counter, and whatever else needed to be done. I could tell something was upsetting your dad the longer I worked there. Like I said, I became friends with your parents, and your dad confided in me on what was happening with the Russians and how they'd threatened him. In return, I made sure I was the only one on the roster to work there anytime they were open. Not only for security with the customers, but I wanted to protect your dad."

"You were so young," she said.

He nodded. "The same age as your parents. We were all young."

"I don't understand how—"

"I'm getting there, Bree." He swallowed. "The pressure of having the Russians there and the people they were bringing in on a nightly basis became too much. Your dad was worried about your mom and you, because you lived above the bar in the apartments, and so he went to the police. He told them everything that was going on at the bar, provided proof that the Russians were laundering money, and he returned to the bar believing the sheriff's office would raid the business and in turn protect his family."

"Wait," said Bree, pulling her hands away from his touch. "If he went to the police then why—?"

"That's what I'm telling you, Bree." He shook his head. "The Russians had ties to the sheriff's office and the report, the evidence, none of it went further than the desk of the officer who took the information from your dad. Then the officer informed the Russians that your dad tried to turn them in."

"Oh, my God," she whispered.

"The next morning, when your dad believed the police would raid his place and take down the illegal money making operation, it was the Russians that came in prepared to follow through on their threats to your father if he told. Your father had been set up by the people he thought he could trust. That morning, I was in the kitchen of the bar. Your mom had made me breakfast before they opened because I got there early not knowing what would be needed when the police came or what time they'd show up. I heard a commotion in the bar and saw three men with guns raised. Your father stood in front of the counter. Your mom lay on the floor dead. Your father was still trying to protect and shield her, but she was already gone."  He encompassed Bree's knees with his thighs, keeping her in front of him.

"Then there was you, sitting on the wooden floor behind the counter, out of sight, and oblivious to the noise happening around you and my whole purpose became how to keep you safe. You were barely two years old. Y-your mom was getting ready to take you into town for the day to keep you away from the bar when the raid went down. She never got that far."

"I can't even..." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "That's how the Russian men know me and why they want to kill me. But, why? I was a baby?"

"Give me a second before I answer your questions." He curled his fingers into his palm, needing a cigarette, needing to hold Bree, needing to erase the past. She'd understand everything once he finished.

"The way I figure it after the initial gunshots, someone nearby at one of the other businesses called nine-one-one. The police came, and with the sirens growing louder and the Russians need to hurry and leave the area, a man named Boykov, who was head of the organization, shot your dad. I dove from the kitchen to behind the counter in the chaos, covering you with my body. Afraid you'd cry, I covered your mouth with my hand. In his hurry not to get caught by law enforcement who wasn't in his control, Boykov never had the time to come back and kill you. And, I was never sure if he witnessed me there or not."

Looking back, for Bree's sake, he should've taken her and ran that day. But, he'd stayed.

"I don't understand why they'd be after me. I was too young to remember anything. I don't remember my parents," said Bree. "Is the Russian's revenge so important to them that they want to make me pay for something my father had done?"

"There's more, carny-girl." He rubbed her thighs, knowing there was no way to soften the truth or his part in lying to her. "Your father survived the shot that was meant to kill him."

"He's alive?" Bree's brows lowered and her mouth stayed open.

He nodded. "I picked you up, put you in your father's car and then hauled your dad to the club. We had an old member who has since passed on who extracted the bullet."

"He lived?" Bree grabbed his vest.

"Yeah, he's alive." Battery held her down on the couch, forcing her to listen. "Once your dad was strong enough, we came up with a plan to protect you and keep you away from the hands of the Russians."

"Wait." She leaned closer to him. "I never stayed with him. Where did he take me? Why did he let me go?"

"Slow down." Battery forced himself to take a breath. Bree needed him calm, rational, and patient for her to accept the information he was giving her. Time to let everything sink in before she ran off emotions.

"Your father wanted me to take you to Washington and get you away from Montana. We both knew that the Russians would come after your father. It's a sense of pride for them to retaliate on whole families when they are wronged."

"That’s wrong," she whispered.

"Through Ronacks connections with other motorcycle clubs, I was able to get you into the foster care system, guaranteeing you were out of sight and untraceable. Your father wanted you to have parents and love growing up."

Her lips trembled. "My father?"

"Losing your mom about killed him, Bree. He wanted nothing to do with anyone and had no desire to start over by going to the authorities. He'd lost faith in the system that was supposed to protect his family." Battery lowered his voice. "I took him to a cabin up in the mountains. An unlivable mining cabin off the radar of everyone. Since the Russians knew that he'd lived through his gunshot, I had hoped over time, they'd give up on finding him, and apparently they haven't. I'm not sure what brought them out into the open or how they found you. I'm guessing they've been watching the bar or working with the couple who bought it at auction after your mom's murder, and the owner recognized your family resemblance to your father."

"My dad looks like me?" She dashed a tear off her cheek. "I want to see him."

He shook his head. "Impossible."

"Why?"

"He knows you're here, carny-girl. He knows I've watched over you from the day I carried you out of the bar and brought you back to the house when you were a baby. He's trusted me to make sure you were alright. When you ran away from your last foster home, it took six months for me to get word that you were missing." He framed her face with his hands, and she pulled away from his touch. "Worst months of my life. I had no idea where you'd gone. When I finally found you, I was only going to make sure you were safe and in a place where you were happy. But, I couldn't leave you at the carnival, and it turned out to be the worst decision I've made, and you're in more danger now."

She pushed away from him, scrambling to remove her legs from between his, and stood away from him. "I want to see my father."

"Bree, you can't."

"Why not?"

He ran his hand down his face. "When I told Richard, that's your father's name, that I believed the Russians were behind you almost getting shot, your dad left."

"Left?" She thrust her fingers in her hair. "Where would he go?"

Battery stood. "To put an end to the Russians coming after his daughter. To finish what was started when the Russians killed his wife and separated him from the daughter he loved more than anything," he said instead of telling her how things would turn out.

"You shouldn't have told him I was living with you." She turned around and headed toward the door. "Now he's in danger, too."

He stepped forward ready to stop her from leaving when she turned back around.

"Is he...well?" Her mouth puckered. "Is he...I don't know what to ask you."

"He's fine." Battery approached her and hooked her neck, wanting to keep her close. "He's more than capable of taking care of himself."

Her gaze snapped to his. Confusion, questions, thoughts she refused to share with him clouded her judgment. He squeezed the tenseness out of her shoulders. She needed time, which neither one of them had.

"I've been searching for your dad, Bree. Between making sure the house was guarded, and you were safe, I've been looking for your dad
and
the Russians."

"What are you going to do if you find him?" She panted hard, staring up into his eyes.

He recognized the moment the truth dawned on her. Her wise eyes punished and condemned him before he even spoke the words. She backed away from him, found the door handle behind her, and ran out of the room.

Ronacks members wouldn't let her escape and put herself in harm's way. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. Boykov didn't want Bree. She was only a pawn. They wanted to use her to draw Richard out of hiding, and if they got their hands on her, they wouldn't let her live once they had her father.

He planned to catch Richard himself, deliver Bree's father to the Russians, and keep Bree uninvolved and alive. She understood enough to know he probably wouldn't make it out alive.

But, she'd be safe. That's all that mattered.

T
he shower turned on. Bree got out of bed, removed the clothes from yesterday that she'd slept in and put on a pair of clean shorts and a T-shirt. Then she left the upstairs and went downstairs where Sander and LeWorth drank coffee. The less she had to be around Battery, the better.

She'd trusted him.

Loved him.

And, he was going to leave her. He wasn't going to walk away or send her away. He was stupidly going to put himself into the hands of the Russians, and no matter how much he wanted to avoid the truth, he would not walk away alive.

She never understood the connection she had with him until last night when what she thought was instantaneous and deeper than her understanding went back to when she was born, and he became her guardian angel. She had no idea the depth he'd gone to make sure she had a life that was free from the dangers the Russians brought down on her family.

There was no way in hell she'd allow him to kill her father by handing him over to the very men who wanted him dead.

Boykov, or whatever Battery called him, would kill both of them.

He wasn't thinking straight. She planned to stop him from ruining everyone's life.

"Morning, Bree," said Sander. "Coffee is still hot."

"Thanks." She poured herself a cup and wandered over to the front window.

Seven motorcycles, plus Battery's Harley parked in the driveway let her know that the guards were stationed around the house. A pang of sadness hit her at not seeing Duke's big, gray beast with his duct-taped seat out there with the others.

"Has anyone heard how Raelyn did overnight?" she asked without turning around.

"She's, um, having a hard time. Spent a long time in the bathroom this morning getting sick," said LeWorth. "Ronacks members are taking turns watching her and Birdy is spending the day at Duke's...at Raelyn's house. Birdy's got two kids and thinks Raelyn's queasy stomach is mostly morning sickness."

Birdy was one of the women who hung around the club. Raelyn liked her. She glanced over her shoulder. "She does get morning sickness."

"Yeah, that's what she said." LeWorth stood from the table. "Come on over and sit down. You're up early."

She shook her head and went back to watching out the window. Somewhere out there, she had a father she couldn't remember. One that she wished she'd had growing up and had dreamed about if life had turned out differently. Would she even like him?

Halfway through the night, she gave up on trying to sleep and stared out the bedroom window much like she was doing right now, and realized she was angry along with being scared, shocked, and sad. She had all the emotions hitting her at the same time, and she couldn't concentrate on only one.

She should be having some kind of reaction, and here she was standing in front of a window not knowing who or what waited outside for her. And, she had a man who had become her everything, who had loved her since she was born, willing to risk his life to save her.

Battery had kept her away from the father she might never get to know. Her father gave her away. She couldn't grasp the extent of her life, a life she had no idea about until yesterday.

Boot steps filled the room and grew louder the closer to her they came. Battery put his arms on her shoulders and his whiskers brushed the side of her face.

"You rushed out of the upstairs without eating," he said.

"I'm not hungry." She held up her cup. "I'll get you a coffee."

"No time." He kissed her temple, leaving his lips on her. "I'm going to go out and find Richard. It's been too many days since he left the mountain. He has to be close."

"Or, the Russians got him," she whispered.

"If they had, Duke would be alive." He moved away from her.

She turned around. "Battery?"

He returned to her. She reached out and held onto the edges of his vest. Her whole life turned upside down and inside out when Battery finished telling her her life story, and she had no idea which way to go.