Beyond Reason (Lost Kings MC 9)

He snorts. “Actually it does.” Under his breath, he mutters, “And you’re the numbers guy.”

“Is this your idea of being helpful?”

Shaking his head, he sits up straighter. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Give her a few days? Then talk to her.”

He pats my arm. “That’s my boy.”

I raise a brow.

“You really love her, fight for her.”

“Thanks.”

His mouth curls into another smirk. “She’s already way out of your league though, so don’t wait too long.”

CHAPTER FOUR

My phone vibrates over the nightstand, tugging me from another restless sleep. When it actually clatters to the floor, I come fully awake. Leaning over the side of the bed, I sweep my hand over the rug until I grab it. Not bothering to look at the number, I answer. “What?”

“Where are you?”

“Who the fuck is this?” I rasp.

“Carter.”

That makes me sit up. A couple days ago his sister basically told me to fuck off, so why is he bothering me at—I catch a glimpse of the clock on my nightstand—eight in the morning? “What do you want?”

I’d already made up my mind that if I didn’t hear from Charlotte by the weekend, I was showing up on her doorstep and we were talking whether she liked it or not. I never expected her brother to call me.

“Where are you?” he asks. His normally dickish attitude strained with anxiety.

I do a slow stretch before standing and padding into the bathroom to brush my teeth. “Home.”

“Are you coming?”

“Coming where?”

He hesitates, and for a minute there’s nothing but static on the line. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Tell me what?”

“Our mother died. The funeral is today.”

I’m so stunned, I can’t respond for second. “Jesus Christ. I’m sorry.” The words come out fast as I rush to my closet and reach for a pair of gray pants and jam my legs into them.

“Is she okay? Are you okay?” I slip on a plain black T-shirt while I wait for his answer.

“No, it’s been a rough couple days. She needs you.”

I’m moving quicker than normal for this hour, grabbing my wallet and keys, shoving them in my pocket. “Did she ask you to call me?”

He hesitates, and I wonder if Charlotte told him about our fight. Her attempt to end things between us. No, her attempt to incinerate things between us.

“She told me you two broke up, but—”

Shit, it hurts hearing she already started scrubbing me out of her life. “When?”

“When what?”

“When did your mom…die?”

“Tuesday morning.”

Charlotte’s dramatic re-evaluation of our relationship still doesn’t make a lot of sense. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Our uncle’s acting like an asshole. Maybe she was afraid you being there would cause trouble.”

Merlin. Somehow any problems between Charlotte and I always come back to that asshole. I can see how in Charlotte’s head her actions make sense. I also know there’s probably more to the story.

No way in hell is a shady old fuck like Merlin keeping me away from my girl when she needs me. “What about you?”

“I know you won’t do anything to upset her.”

“I mean, how are you doing?”

He exhales a sad, humorless sigh. “I’ve been better. So are you coming?”

“I’m leaving right now,” I say as I open the front door, jogging over the gravel to my truck. “Where is she?”

“We’re at her apartment. How long do you think it’ll take you to get here?”

“Give me a half hour.”

“It’ll take her that long to pick out a pair of shoes.” He huffs out another sad laugh.

“Hang on, kid.”

“Right now, I’m just worried about my sister.”

“I’m on my way.”

We hang up and I toss my phone onto the console.

Heidi comes walking out of the woods, carrying Alexa. Shit. I’m supposed to watch my niece today.

“Where are you…” The question dies on her lips when she sees my face.

Slamming the truck door shut, I walk around the front to meet her. I take Alexa into my arms and kiss her sweet, chubby cheeks before handing her back. “I can’t watch her today.”

Heidi blinks. I’ve never bailed on her before and I hate doing it now, but Charlotte needs me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Charlotte’s mom died.” I brace myself for the questions coming.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. Is she okay? Can I do anything?”

“No. The funeral’s today. I’m leaving now.”

Suspicion is written all over Heidi’s face, but she doesn’t ask any of the questions I know she wants to. She reaches out and touches my arm. “Do you think Blake or someone should go with you, just in case?”

Meaning Murphy must have warned her there’s trouble brewing between our clubs and she’s worried about me going there alone.

“I think it’ll be okay. Her brother will be there.” She doesn’t seem convinced. “Her uncle would have to be a real piece of shit to start something at a funeral.”

She hesitates, her gaze darting back to the woods—toward Murphy—clearly debating whether she should go get him.

“Hey.” I grip her arm so she faces me. “I’m not wearing my colors. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Unless Merlin does something to upset Charlotte, then I might gut him—funeral or not. But that won’t reassure Heidi so I don’t say it.

“If you need something or Charlotte needs… Anything, just call. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Tell her I’m sorry.”

“I will.” I lean down and kiss her cheek, then Alexa’s before getting in my truck.

Our whole exchange took maybe two minutes but I’m still antsy to get on the road. Charlotte needs me. I don’t contemplate why she didn’t call me herself. Or why she picked a fight the other night. It doesn’t matter.

I make it there in twenty-five minutes and double park on the street in front of her house. I eat up the concrete running over the sidewalk and up her front stairs. Carter opens the door before I have a chance to knock.

“She’s in the bedroom,” he says, nodding at the hallway.

Yeah, Carter can be an annoying little shit, but his expression, hell, everything about him is so bleak, I reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “You all right?”

His surprised eyes meet mine. I’m guessing no one bothered to ask how he was doing. From what Charlotte told me, I know he feels responsible for his mother. Slowly he shakes his head. “I don’t know what I am, man. But thank you for coming.”

I nod and head to Charlotte’s room where I find her sitting on the floor in front of her closet, black shoes scattered all around her. “Charlotte.”

She turns at the sound of my voice, looking up at me with so much sadness filling her blue eyes. I can’t stand it and I rush over, kneel down and pull her into my arms. At first she’s stiff, but then she lets out a harsh sob, her hands digging into my arms holding onto me tight. “I’m here, Sunshine. I’m here,” I whisper, running my hands over her back.

“How? Who?” Her gaze lifts to the doorway behind me. “Let me guess, my brother.”

“I’m glad he told me. You should’ve told me. You know I’d be here for you no matter what.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t understand.”

“No, I think I do. And fuck that, I’m here for you. Nothing else matters.”

She sobs and shakes her head. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Charlotte, I’m not leaving.”

Finally, she seems to give up and gestures helplessly to the shoes surrounding her. “I don’t even know what to wear. She always hated everything I wore. Either I dressed too stuck-up, preppy, or slutty.

I never made her happy no matter what.”

“I’ve never thought any of those things about you. It doesn’t matter. Wear whatever you’re comfortable in.”

I stand and help her up off the floor. The long, black, shapeless dress she chose falls to her shins. She slips on a pair of black flats. “She would’ve hated these.” This time there’s a hint of fire in her words. Defiance in her eyes. There’s the Charlotte I recognize.

“Come on.” I offer my hand, and she takes it, following me out to the living room. She reaches out and hugs her brother with one arm, never letting go of my hand.

The two of them follow me outside. Carter looks helplessly up and down the street. “You’ll ride with us.”

He doesn’t argue with me, just watches as I help his sister into the front seat of my truck.

“Where am I going?” I ask once we’re on the road.

Carter directs me to a cemetery in Slater County while Charlotte stares out the window.

When we arrive, the parking lot is full of bikes and bikers. Most if not all, are wearing Wolf Knights cuts. Not that I expected any different. Except for my ink, I’m free from anything identifying me as a Lost King. Even so, enough of these guys know who I am. Ignoring everyone around us, I help Charlotte out of my truck and wrap an arm around her shoulders, making it clear who I’m here for. Carter takes his sister’s hand and walks on her other side.

Tension in the air is so thick, I wish I knew what went down the last few days. I’m basically walking in blind. Merlin, the fuck, steps away from the gravesite, meeting us with a cold stare and a hand to my chest.

If we were anywhere else, I’d knock his fuckin’ hand away and punch the ever-living-shit out of him.

His bloodshot eyes and raspy voice almost make me feel sorry for him. Until he says, “Family only.”

“Knock it off,” Carter grumbles.

Keeping my arm around Charlotte I step forward a little and push her behind me. “I’m here for her. That’s it.” In a lower voice, I add, “Don’t turn this into something it doesn’t need to be.”

He cocks his head, regarding me with suspicion while Whisper and a couple other members take up positions behind their president. “Your prez know you’re here?”

Charlotte’s trembling body forces me to remain calm. “You know I ain’t here for my club,” I explain with as much respect as I’m able to muster. “I’m here for Charlotte and Carter. That’s it.”

Merlin’s gaze flicks to his niece, observing the possessive way my arm’s curled around her waist. He doesn’t even acknowledge his nephew. “Thank you,” he says without a drop of sincerity in his voice. He tilts his head, indicating we should move forward. A subtle way of communicating to his brothers that he’s allowing me to be here.

Asshole.

Ignoring the bullshit, I lift my chin at Merlin. Whisper shakes my hand and we have a few quick words before I lead Charlotte to a chair up front. Carter stares at me for a second before taking the seat next to Charlotte. He hasn’t said a word to anyone since we arrived. His family treats him like he doesn’t even exist, which really pisses me off.

I’ve been to way too many funerals already in my life, but this is the first time attending one for someone I never even met. From the stuff Charlotte’s told me it doesn’t seem like a great loss.

I keep that thought to myself and don’t let go of her hand.

After the service, Teller’s speaking to Whisper when Chuck pulls me aside.

“I thought I told you not to bring him here,” he says in a low voice full of barely concealed rage.

“I didn’t. He found out—”

“How?”

No way am I throwing my brother under the bus. Not with the erratic way Chuck’s been acting all week.

“Mercy called him.”

“Can’t that little bitch mind her own business?”

“Stop,” I spit out through clenched teeth. “Just stop. Teller’s not here to cause trouble. It has nothing to do with your club stuff,” I say, waving my hand at his leather vest. “My life is my life. Your club is your club.”

His demeanor undergoes a radical change. “You’re right, Charlotte. You know, I still remember you as a little girl.” He runs the back of his hand over my cheek, and I brace myself not to shy away or show fear. “You were always such a sweet, cute little thing.” His gaze shifts to Teller. “Known him for a long time. He’s a dark fucker like the rest of us. Not the kind of guy I ever wanted you to end up with.”

“Well, it’s not really your decision to make.” I’m still frightened and angry about the way he threatened me the other day. That he physically hurt me without a thought.

Maybe he really is having a hard time losing my mother. Their relationship was long, complicated, and frankly, I never wanted to know much about it after my dad died.

Sympathy for my uncle leads me to try to reason with him.

“Uncle Chuck, you only know one side of him.” I gesture to the bikers surrounding us. “You show one side to the club and to outsiders, but at home it’s different. Dad was the same way.”

“Don’t you dare compare him to my brother.”

I blow out a frustrated breath. I knew he couldn’t be reasoned with. “Whatever you know about Teller, isn’t the way I know him. He’s very good to me.”

“You know he got his last girlfriend killed, right?” He waits as if I’ll be shocked or outraged at the information.

Instead, I give him a solemn nod. “He told me what happened.”

“Bet he gave you the nice, sanitized version of events.”

That’s probably true, but I’m confident that whatever Marcel kept to himself was to protect me, not him.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to mention how sweet Teller treats his sister and his niece, but feeling protective of Heidi and Alexa, I snap my mouth shut. The less Chuck knows about Teller, the better. Fewer things he can try to use against him in the future. Because as I stare into his flat, lifeless eyes, blue like my father’s but without the same warmth, I know he can’t be reasoned with and he won’t let this go.

Teller’s familiar heat brushes my side and he slips an arm around my waist. “You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

“We’re going back to the clubhouse to reminisce. You’re welcome to join us, Teller,” Chuck says in an almost cordial way.

“Thank you.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Carter walks up on my other side. Chuck reaches out, ruffling my brother’s hair. Something he probably hasn’t done since Carter was six.

“Coming back with us?”

Carter glances at me and shrugs. “Sure.”

In what feels like a repeat of the conversation we had a couple weeks ago, once we’re in Teller’s truck, I plead with him not to go to the clubhouse. “Let’s just go to my place. We don’t need to do this.”

“Charlotte, he wants to honor your mother. It’ll be fine.” He glances in the rearview mirror. “Carter’s got my back, right?”

“Not sure how much good it’ll do you,” my brother mutters. “But yeah.”

The clubhouse has even more bikers than at the funeral. Charters from out of state. Teller scans the parking lot, staring at some of the plates. “Was your dad ever an officer in the club?”

“No. At least I don’t think so.”

“Merlin and your mom?”

“Don’t go there.”

He nods and opens his door.

“What’s that about?” Carter asks.

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t like this, Char. I think we should go home.”

“It’ll be fine,” I answer, even though I’m not so sure. Picking up my purse, I dig out the tiny can of pepper spray I carry and stick it in my pocket. I make sure I have my cell phone in the other pocket and am about to open my door when Teller opens it for me.

“Come on.” His voice is grim but his expression is passive. He holds out his hand and I take it

, stepping down from the truck.

Carter jumps out next to us.

“I really don’t want to hear any stories about how much of a party girl Mom was,” he grumbles.

For an after-funeral reception, the clubhouse is wilder than usual. Music and laughter drift into the parking lot. The smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat slaps me in the face when Marcel opens the door.

Anxiety swirls in my gut. While my mother probably would have loved this sort of celebration in her honor, it leaves a ball of ice in my stomach.

The three of us shove our way through dancing, half-naked bodies, seeking a familiar face.

I nudge Marcel when I spot Whisper in a corner, watching the party with a severe expression in place. He lifts his chin when he sees us and Teller navigates our way to the other side of the room.

“How are you, Char?” Whisper’s deep voice carries easily over the noise around us. As SAA to the Wolf Knights, I know his job entails keeping the club members in line with either threats of violence or actual beatings.

“Looks like you have your work cut out for you tonight,” I shout. He leans over so he can hear me and I repeat my lame attempt at conversation.

One corner of his mouth lifts. “Any excuse to get shitfaced.”

You’d think I’d be offended, but I appreciate the honesty.

“How you doin’, Teller?” Whisper asks.

“All right.”

Whisper nods to the cluster of chairs behind him. “Why don’t you three stay back here where I can keep my eye on you.” It’s more of an order than a suggestion.

Marcel doesn’t engage in any I-can-handle-my-woman posturing. He thanks Whisper and moves forward. Carter stays behind to talk to Whisper.

“I’m going to get drinks,” Teller says. “Stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

Wrinkling my nose at the small couch, I take a seat. I planned to burn this dress after today anyway.

I slip my phone out of my pocket and check for any important work emails. I answer what I can and figure the rest will be there when I go back to my office.

The cushions underneath me bounce and I assume it’s either Marcel or Carter, so I turn with a smile on my face only to encounter Hudson’s solemn expression.