Spark of Hope (MacKenny Brothers #3) - Kathleen Kelly Page 0,9
Lola’s mom. Yvette is also your mom, so that kinda makes her your sister. Unless, of course, I’m missing something?”
His eyes are glued to the ground and shuffles his feet, then he puts his hands in his pockets.
Frustrated with him, I let out a growl and ball one of my hands into a fist. “Get on the fucking bike, kid. Now,” I order him.
With defiance in his eyes, he takes a step back. “She’s my mother!”
Shocked at his outburst, I move toward him, shaking my head. “No. She’d have told me.”
“Yeah, like she told you I existed? You keep telling yourself that. I told you Lola can take care of herself, she always has, but Yvette, she needs me.”
I let out a sigh. There’s conviction in his voice, and as he speaks, Logan straightens and squares his shoulders. If nothing else, he believes what he’s saying.
“Well, if Yvette needs you, get on the bike. We can talk to her together.”
“You’ll take me back to her?”
“Fuck, kid. Get on the damn bike. Yes, I’m going to see Yvette. Either can get on the bike or walk there… I don’t care. But this conversation is over.”
With my mind reeling, I throw my leg over my bike, then start it.
Logan is beside me and climbs on.
Neither of us speak as I pull away.
Kyle
There’s a blue Harley Fat Boy parked in front of the house. It belongs to Smokey, one of our older prospects who will probably get patched in soon. He’s proven himself to be a loyal soldier, often doing the jobs the others don’t want to do. Smokey has been on the fringes of the club for years, it’s only recently he decided he wanted to join. The man is good with anything mechanical, a great asset to the MC. Before I turn off the bike, Logan is off and running to the front door. I scope out the neighborhood, everything feels quiet.
I climb off, and as I walk up to the house, Logan is walking backward out of it, shaking his head from side to side. Immediately, I pull out my gun, hold it with two hands at eye level, and walk toward him. Logan stumbles down the two stairs that lead to the porch, so I go past him and through the front door.
There’s blood everywhere.
The ceiling.
The walls.
The floor.
Moving through the living room, I make my way to the kitchen, straining to hear anything that sounds out of place. There’s nothing except my breathing and footsteps. Smokey is sitting at the kitchen table. His hands are limp at his sides, and blood pools around the chair. I do a sweep of the kitchen and come back to him, putting two fingers to his neck, but I know even as I do this, he’s dead. Smokey’s eyes are open but not seeing, his guts has been pulled out onto the table, and a knife is sticking out of his chest.
Whatever happened, it appears as though it started in the living room and ended here. Walking back through the house, I check the bedrooms, and there’s no sign of Yvette. Logan is standing out near my bike, still shaking his head and has tears running down his face.
“D-Do you think they killed her?” he whispers.
“No. If they did, she’d be here.”
Pulling out my cell, I call Sean.
“Yeah?”
“Smokey’s dead.”
“What the fuck?” roars Sean. “Are you safe?”
“Whoever did it is long gone. They gutted him.”
Sean does sharp intake of breath and a low murmur of, “Who?”
Moving away from Logan, I lower my voice. “Yvette isn’t here.”
“You think they took her?”
“No.”
“You think she did it?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Yes.”
“Fucking cunt.”
“Maybe.”
“Anyone see you?”
Looking around the neighborhood, it’s quiet, and no one is around. “I don’t think so.”
“Leave. Go to the clubhouse. Get a fucking alibi from one of the brothers.”
“And the kid?”
“He knows too much. Bring him. We can’t have you implicated in this. Cutter and I will fix this shit. Leave now.”
Sean is ex-military, a decorated Marine, in the Special Forces. When shit hits the fan, he’s the guy you go to, and this is officially classified as shit hitting the fucking fan. Putting my cell in my pocket, I climb on my bike, and Logan gets on behind me without me having to ask or argue with him.
Miracles do fucking happen!
We pull into the compound, and Wheels walks out. I can tell from the irate look on his face that he’s pissed at being sidelined. Holding up my hand, I stare at Logan.
“Go inside,