Dark Guardian (Black Hoods MC #3) - Avelyn Paige Page 0,15
the members of this club and their families. A new venture to financially support the club, and to add a desperately needed amenity to the neighborhood, as well as a way to help our new members and kids get work experience.
“To new futures!” Karma declares, holding his beer bottle high over the center of the table.
“And more money!” Twat Knot cheers as everyone clinks their bottles together in celebration.
Once everyone has settled, I take my seat at the head of the table, motioning for the others to do the same. “We’ve been so busy taking care of everyone else, it’s high time we take care of ourselves. We’ve worked hard for this, but now that we actually have the place, the hard work is just beginning.”
“Figures,” Twat Knot groans. I nod at Karma, who smirks and swats him across the back of the head.
“Things are about to get a lot busier around here, but the ride is going to be so fucking worth it. Who’s with me?” More cheers echo through the room, and I grin, slamming the gavel down on the table, ending the formality of our meeting. “Another round of beers!” I call out.
Everyone piles out of the room toward where the beer is kept. I’m right behind them, but stop when my phone rings. The name on the screen sets me into an instant panic.
Accepting the call, I press the phone to my ear. “Kevin, is everything okay?”
“No, I don’t think it is,” he whispers.
I close the door to the meeting room, muffling the sound of excited bikers in the other room. “What’s going on, kid?”
He continues to whisper. “There was some chick here today. She tried to tell us she was a friend. She was asking all kinds of questions about who we live with and who you are.”
Fuck.
“Did she give you her name?”
“Grace. That’s all she said. I didn’t tell her anything, I swear. I don’t think she works for the school, though. She looked like a social worker.” He’s seen enough of them to know.
Sighing, I rub my hand down my face. Figures. One good thing happens, only to immediately be followed by something bad. “It’s all good, Kev. I’ll look into it. You and your sister okay, though?”
“Yeah. Nat’s back in class, and I’m headed to mine now.”
“Good,” I mutter, distracted now by thoughts of who this Grace bitch might be and why she’s asking my kids questions at all. “Thanks for telling me, Kev. I’ll deal with it, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Bye.”
As soon as the call disconnects, I go to the door and call out for Hashtag.
“What’s up?” he asks, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him.
“Someone was sniffing around the kids at school, some bitch named Grace. Didn’t give them any more info, but I got a bad feeling. Kevin said he was pretty sure she was a social worker.”
“What do you need from me?”
Groaning, I lean my ass against the table. “I don’t even fucking know,” I admit. “Check the school personnel roster for a Grace, see if she even works there. Or see if there are any flags on their file. Something. Anything. I just got those kids, and I’ll be damned if anyone’s gonna take them away from me.”
I’d lost my family once before, and I sure as fuck won’t lose this one.
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll see what I can find. Give me an hour.”
Hashtag disappears as he heads toward his office.
Mom approaches me, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“There might be a complication with the kids.”
“Need me to look into it?”
I clap my hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate it, man, but Hash is going to see what he can find out with that computer shit he does. Besides, you’ve got enough problems to deal with on your own. I can’t ask you to take on anymore.”
“You ain’t fuckin’ kidding. But if you need me, let me know. Crazy wife and all, I’m here for you and those kids.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I wish I could tell you it gets easier as they get older, but my kids are just like me.”
“No wonder Marie’s a fucking psycho. She lives with you and your clones.”
His smile is genuine when he acknowledges, “Keeps life interesting.”
A wail from the other side of the room draws our attention. Rushing out, we find Marie on top of one of the tables, dancing like a stripper on dollar dance night, gyrating her hips while the drink in her hand sloshes all over the table. Slipping,