More Than Miles (Lost Kings MC 6)

“Oh. That’s good news.”

Lucas leans over and slaps Axel’s leg. “You should come to Alaska with us after graduation. I can totally hook you up with a job on my uncle’s oil rig.”

I snort, because obviously that’s a joke, right? Lucas shifts his gaze to me. “I’m serious. Even the entry-level jobs pay really well.” He turns and thumps Axel’s arm “But, you’ve got a special skill set with the welding and mechanics—my uncle would kill to get you on his crew.”

“You’re seriously moving to Alaska?” I raise an eyebrow at Penny and she nods.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

“Well, all our family is here. I don’t think taking a newborn to Alaska makes a lot of sense.”

Axel’s still quiet, so I elbow him in the ribs.

“What? Oh, yeah.”

“Sorry, Heidi. I wasn’t thinking about the baby,” Lucas says.

“It’s going to be a big adjustment.” What an understatement.

Penny cocks her head. “Are you going to finish school?”

“Duh. Of course.”

Axel turns and raises an eyebrow. That’s right, we haven’t talked about our plans for after the baby comes.

“We’ll have to find daycare or a sitter or something,” I mumble.

“You guys have plenty of time to figure it all out.”

Somehow, it doesn’t seem like it.

By the next time we sit down for church, no one’s worried about Heidi’s wedding. Except me. And maybe Teller. I don’t know, because he hasn’t mentioned it again.

I can’t dwell on it, though, or it’ll drive me nuts.

The need to be on the road consumes me. Rock knows it and promised me he was working on something. I appreciate it, because at least then I’ll be doing something for my club instead of just going off on a pity joyride.

We go through the agenda the same way we do every time. Rock grills each of the officers. Everyone does their part for the club and does it well.

“Need more bodies at Furious?” Rock asks Wrath once we’ve gone over everything else.

“Nah. Murphy’s been a big help while Jake’s been out. I’m gettin’ busier, so if you don’t need him anywhere else, I’d like to keep him on permanently.”

Rock glances at me with a raised eyebrow.

Fuck. Originally, I wanted to get out of working at Crystal Ball because I realized how much it bothered Heidi. Since that doesn’t matter anymore, I could go back. Truth is I’d rather keep working at the gym with Wrath. I like helping him out. The work is more challenging. And I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been in.

At the moment, though, I need some time away from everything. Distance. Wrath should understand that better than anyone.

Rock seems to read the dilemma I’m working through in my head. “Long-term, yeah. We’ll find someone else for CB.”

Ravage raises his hand, waving it in the air to get Rock’s attention. “Right here, prez.”

Rock chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Simmer the fuck down.” He turns back to Wrath. “Can you spare Murphy for the next couple weeks? The club needs him for something.”

Wrath raises an eyebrow. “Okay.” Rock may have phrased it as a request, but we all know it wasn’t.

Sparky practically bounces in his seat trying to get Rock’s attention. “You sending Murphy to Arizona for me?”

Our president doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.” He points to Dex. “You up for a trip?”

While I’d been hoping for some solitude, I get why Rock doesn’t want me riding solo.

“Fuck, yeah.”

Sparky narrows his eyes at Dex. “You’re there on business. Not to fuck around.”

A shocked hush falls over the table. All eyes are on Dex while we wait to see his comeback. Finally, his mouth slides into a sneer. “Yes, sir.”

Sparky settles back in his chair. “Sorry. It’s just that this is important.”

Rock sighs and sits back. “Sparky, why don’t you explain.”

Our mad-scientist, weed-growing brother sits up, hands flailing in the air. “Okay. Okay. So, you know our friends in Arizona started up a grow-op, right? The dude who’s overseeing it is an old buddy of mine. He’s got this crazy amazing strain from Nigeria. Real rare stuff. Seven times the THC for a quick high…”

I try not to let my eyes glaze over. When Sparky gets talking about plants, he can get pretty in-depth.

“Sparky,” Rock warns, redirecting our favorite stoner.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. So he’s got this mega-awesome strain. I’ve got our Deepest Gray that I’ve bred. We’re going to swap clones.”

“You’re gonna let someone have one of your masterpieces?” Z asks with only a hint of sarcasm.

Sparky’s face screws up into a scowl. “This shit is worth it. They’re far enough away that it’s not going to impact our business.”

Rock tosses his hands up in a what-the-fuck-ever gesture. “You wanna vote on the swap?” he asks Z. “It’s club property.”

Z’s shaking his head before Rock even finishes the question. “No. I trust Sparky’s judgment on this. I’m surprised, that’s all.”

I feel like I missed something. “So, what does this have to do with me?”

Brother has nerve, because Sparky rolls his eyes. “I need you to transport the clones.”

“You can’t just mail some seeds back and forth?” Bricks asks.

Sparky slants a look in Brick’s direction. “No. Seeds won’t cut it. No. No mail. Federal. Easy peasy.”

I look to Rock to interpret that answer and he shrugs. Across the table, Wrath’s leaning back in his chair with his hand on his chin, fingers covering the laughter on his lips.

“So, here’s where I’ll explain the risks involved, since Sparky seems to be forgetting that part,” Rock says. Sparky waves his hands in the air and grumbles about the Feds. “How many plants?” Rock asks.

“Twelve.” Sparky points at Dex, then me. “Six each.”

Rock nods. “Okay, so one to forty-nine plants, the penalty is the same. Five years and up to a million dollar fine.”

Ouch.

I’ve gone on plenty of drops where the amounts could land me in prison a lot longer than five years, but those are low risk since they’re local and quick. This is a cross-country trip through areas where we have no influence.

Still, I think the risk is pretty low.

“Does the club need these plants, Sparky?” I ask.

He sits up and nods, taking the questions seriously. “It’ll help us meet the higher GSC demand and give us a new strain to offer that can’t be found anywhere else in the northeast.”

“We already have the best stuff in the northeast,” Wrath says dryly. “This shit make that big a difference?”

I think Sparky’s feelings are hurt by the question. “Yes,” he answers. “This is a high-producing plant, so we might be able to get ahead and reopen our western NY deal, too.”

Yeah, backing out of that deal made us look like amateurish assholes. But Loco’s Green Street Crew has us by the throat, demanding everything we produce. If we can get some breathing room that would be good for the whole club.

“I’m in.”

“Me, too,” Dex says.

“You do realize it’s almost winter, right?” Z asks.

Dex blows off the weather concern. “Fuck, it’s still like sixty-five degrees.”

Now, this is my area of expertise. “Weather’s clear for the next week. That gets us to Arizona. If there’s some freak storm, we can always rent a truck and trailer the bikes back.”

“Three days,” Sparky says.

“What?”

“Three days. The clones cannot be on the road longer than that.”

“Jesus Christ, it’s a day and a half ride at least. And that’s without any stops, you prick.”

“Oh no, you need to stop to check the plants, water them, breathe on them…” Sparky keeps listing tasks, while Dex and I roll our eyes.

&

nbsp; “You can stay down there long as you want. But the drive back? Three days.”

“Sparky, be reasonable,” Rock says.

“Maybe four if you promise to talk to them.”

“I’ll sing them a motherfuckin’ ballad if it makes you happy, brother,” I tell him.

Everyone cracks up. Even Sparky.

We wrap up our meeting and after everyone leaves, Rock motions for Dex and me to stay.

“You sure you’re all right with this?” he asks me.

“I’m a big boy. I’ll be fine.”

A slow smirk turns the corner of his mouth up. He sits back and regards both of us carefully.

“Dex, you good?”

“I’m in, prez.”

Once we’re cleared by Rock to leave, we head to the basement where we are treated to a lengthy botany lesson. “Sparky, I’m never gonna remember all this. Can’t you write it down?”

He throws a glare at me. “Nothing in writing. I’ll Skype with him.”

“That’s safer?”

Another fuck-off stare.

“Whatever. Just show us what you need us to do.”

After what feels like a hundred hours later, Sparky finally releases us.

“Morning?” Dex asks as we head upstairs.

“Yeah.”

“Looking forward to a change of scenery?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Are you sure I look okay?” I ask for the third time.

Axel runs his gaze over my green sweater, jeans, and boots. “Do you have a dress?

Although I’ve outgrown my tomboy-who-refuses-to-wear-dresses phase, the question still annoys me. I’m not a fan of being told what to wear.

“No. It’s cold out.”

“You look fine. Come on, my mother will be more annoyed if we’re late.”

Goody. Can’t wait.

I met Axel’s parents once. When he graduated from high school. They weren’t impressed with me then, and I don’t think they’re thrilled we’re still together. Definitely not happy about us living together.

Wait until we tell them we’re getting married.

I spent a couple afternoons studying at Axel’s house before we officially started dating. While the old Victorian I lived in with my grandmother was probably as big, it had more character—stuff that needed fixing. Axel’s parents live in one of those generic, expensive, perfect McMansion types of houses. He walks us up the sidewalk, with a hand on my back, as if he’s worried I might try to run away if he lets go.

Maybe I would.

“Hi, honey,” Mrs. Ryan fusses, kissing Axel’s cheek like she hasn’t seen him in a million years. She turns her chilly gaze my way and nods. “Heidi.”

What, no kiss for me, Lorraine?

I’ve never been a picky eater—couldn’t afford to be if I wanted to survive. My brother hunts, so I’m not squeamish. I’ve eaten lots of Bambis and Thumpers over the years. But the bloody red roast his mother serves turns my stomach.

“I can’t eat that,” I whisper in Axel’s ear. Never mind how unappetizing it looks. It can’t be good for the baby.

A wave of unpleasantness rolls through my belly. Nope. Definitely not eating that.

“Heidi?” Mr. Ryan points to the roast.

“Uh, can I have my piece cooked a little longer?”

His mother’s face twists into a scowl, as if I spit on the table instead of wanting to avoid a case of E. coli. She huffs as she reaches over and snatches my plate away. “I can do it, Mrs. Ryan. Don’t go to any trouble,” I say, following her into the kitchen.

“It’s fine,” she says without looking at me.

My stomach lurches again and I hurry to the bathroom, making it just in time to throw up in private.

When I return, everyone’s waiting for me. I suppose it will be obvious that I’m knocked up now, but no one says anything.

The beef still doesn’t look good, but I pick at it, cut it into tiny pieces and push it around my plate.

His mother’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “Why is she wearing my mother’s ring?”

Axel takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Well, that’s what we came here to tell you. We’re getting married in January.”

She pins Axel with a flinty glare. “You gave her my mother’s ring?”

Interesting she has no comment on the wedding.

“Yeah,” Axel snaps. “Gram gave it to me to give to my future wife.” He points at me. “Heidi.”

“Congratulations,” his father finally says.

“Thank you.”

No one asks why we’re getting married. Or where. His mother doesn’t ask about my plans.

After dinner, I try to be a good guest and help her clear the table. In the kitchen, she whirls around and glares at me. “How did you talk my son into marrying you?”

Stunned from the accusation, I can’t come up with anything more intelligent than, “What?”

“For reasons I can’t comprehend, my son is obsessed with you.”

“He loves me. I love him,” I answer weakly.

She shakes her head as if that can’t possibly be true. “You’ve done nothing but drag him down since he met you, but this is beyond comprehension.”

“Axel wants… He proposed to me.”

“Only because you convinced him. He’d never marry you if you hadn’t talked him into it.”

Her words strike hard. Will Axel end up hating me? Hating our baby?

“You haven’t heard a thing I’ve said, have you?” she screams at me.

“Mom!” Axel shouts, storming into the kitchen. “Enough.” He slips an arm around my shoulders and I lean into him for support. “We’re getting married whether you like it or not. We want you and Dad to be there—”

“Like hell,” she snaps.

“That’s too bad. I guess you’ll see pictures of the wedding.”

She turns her ice-cold glare on me. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

My stomach drops.

“Why can’t you get rid of it? Why do you have to ruin my son’s life?” she yells.

Axel’s arm tightens around me. “That’s it. We’re leaving. If that’s your attitude, we don’t want you around our child.”

I’m so relieved when we’re finally in the car driving away, I burst into tears.

“I’m sorry,” Axel says quietly, placing his hand on my leg.

“Am I ruining your life?” I ask.

He takes a long time to answer, and I’m not exactly reassured when he finally does.

“No. It’s just going in a different direction than I planned.”

Dex doesn’t question me when I explain the two-hour detour I want to take into Arkansas to steer clear of the Kansas border.

“This is your show, brother.”

I’m pinging with the need to get on the road, but Wrath insists we have breakfast before leaving.

“This is all getting a little too happy family,” I grumble as Wrath’s big hand settles on my neck and steers me toward the dining room.

“Bullshit. You love it.”

After breakfast, Sparky oversees the loading of the clones into our hard bags. I hate the look of the stretched bags, but they fit our needs. I designed a tray to fit over the plants. It won’t stand up to a serious search, but it provides some cover.

Sparky, naturally objects.

“Sweet pannies, Murphy,” Z jokes, bumping my arm.

“Trying to blend in as much as possible.”

“Christ, you’re gonna make us look like a bunch of pussies when you roll into Romeo’s compound with those dressers.”

I punch him back. “You want to join us? Butch us up a little, ya prick.”

He glances at the house. Then back at us. “Fuck it. Yeah. I’ll ride ahead, like the lone outlaw while you two look like a couple of RUBs touring the countryside.”

“Fuck you.” I’m laughing as I insult my brother, so he’s not put off one bit.

While Z jogs into the house t

o grab some stuff, Rock strolls over. “Something’s up his ass lately. Can’t sit still for more than a day.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Keep an eye on him.”

I don’t have an answer for that. Never thought I’d see the day when Rock was asking me to look after Z.

Hope rushes in as we’re about to go and gives me a fierce hug. “Have fun. Be careful,” she whispers in my ear. I think she says it to Dex and Z, too, so I’m not insulted. Sparky takes her hand, squeezing it tight as we roll out. He must be nearing a meltdown watching us whisk his babies away.

Trinity doesn’t fuck around when it comes to wedding planning. Although the theme of the wedding seems to be broke bride on a budget, she manages to make everything beautiful instead of pitiful.

“Thank you so much, Trinity.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

I’ve known Trinity for years. Hated her for years, too. But the more time I spend at the clubhouse, the more I see what a vital role she plays here. Maybe not as vital as she used to, but important.

“Has, uh, Murphy said anything?” I can’t look her in the eye while I ask. It’s all too weird, but I need to know how he is. We haven’t spoken in so long. He probably hates me.

She glances down at her hands. “No. He’s on a run.”

“Oh. Where?”

“Southwest.”

“Oh.”

I take a few deep breaths before asking my next question. “Was he upset?”

She finally meets my eyes. “Probably.”

“Trinity, I never—”

“There’s my girl,” Wrath’s low voice startles me, and I find him creeping up behind Trinity. She squeals and jumps out of her chair. I glance away while they greet each other with so much affection it makes me blush. If Wrath can get over the past, then I have no business being mad at Trinity. Especially when she’s always tried so hard to be nice to me. Not because she wanted something from me—she was already plenty close with my brother—but because I was part of the family.

They approach the table with their arms around each other, and it’s weird to see Uncle Wrath so…content. Weird, but nice.

“Hey, Heidi-girl.” He pats me on the head and musses my hair. “Whose wedding are you working on?”