“There’s a hit out on you, Calla.”
I say it without warning, giving nothing to soften the blow. I sit here and watch her shake, her face contorting into a look of astonishment and confusion, making me feel like I’ve been kicked in the teeth.
“The man who killed my father found out about you a few years back, and he’s been looking for you ever since. He knows you’re the one thing he can break me with. The only person left who I truly care about. He wants you dead.”
She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, then she closes it just as quickly.
“I have a rat in my club, someone who told this shady, no good asshole about you, and I haven’t been able to find out who. I’ve had everyone in this place followed, had everyone checked out. You name it, I have done it, and I’ve come up with nothing. Not a damn thing. I’m no closer to finding out today than I was a few years ago when this all came to light. That’s why when you showed up I decided to keep you here, where I can be the one to take care of you and not Manny.”
Her look of disgust tells me she already knows he’s been watching her for me. I can’t be angry with him, though; I owe him more than anyone for taking care of her and keeping her safe. He’s reported to me daily about her every move; however, now that Calla is here, I will be telling him to stay out of my business. The little shit is trustworthy, but he needs to keep his big mouth shut more often.
“So you found out about Manny. I know you better than you think, so I’m not going to get into it right now with you, but now you know why I have so much information about you. I did what I had to do to make sure no one located you, and he’s the only one I fucking trust.”
I harden my voice when I continue, demanding her full attention.
“Now, here’s the part where you really need to listen to every word I say, and I am not screwing around about it anymore. You don’t have to want to be here, but you’re going to be. You may as well get used to seeing a lot of me. It’s the way it’s going to be, whether you like it or not. I get the fact that you have no clue how shit works around here. Like I said before, I don’t do drugs. I loathe them. They’re the reason that fucker killed my dad and Darcy. There’s also a lot of women who hang out here. They like the bikes, they like the men. They respect us. We respect them. We fuck. No strings attached, unless someone makes it that way. I’ve been with every one of them.”
My organs all just about stop working when more tears fall down her face, but I have to push on.
“We’re an organization. A club. A private bar. Anyone can join as long as they don’t do drugs, don’t start fights, and don’t try and screw around with anyone’s wife. They pay their dues and drink my booze. It’s as simple as that. That’s the way I want it. And that’s the way I need it.”
She’s so quiet, which is very unlike her. I wanted her to know the truth; well, the truth about this club. We are who we are now. Most of the people here are innocent, normal, hardworking Americans who love the thrill of the throttle between their legs. Nothing more, just the sweet relief of all-American freedom.
“You need to act like you want to be here. Pretend like you and I are trying to work through our shit. And stand by my side. My world is a hell of a lot different from the world you’ve been living in. When I say do something, you don’t ask any questions, you just do it. If by chance I have to leave, you come with me. You get what I’m saying?”
Wrinkles of angry shock crease her forehead.