Chapter Eight
AYDA
The bath Drew had run for me did me a world of good. The hot water eased the muscles in my body, and the calming scents of the bubbles made me feel more feminine. The room was filled with steam and vanilla, relaxing me.
Even standing in front of the mirror, completely naked, I felt nothing but a strange and out of place, contented happiness.
My body didn’t reflect my pregnancy. Not in any noticeable way, anyway. The bruises that were slowly blooming into deeper shades over my skin were a distraction I didn’t want, but I tried to look beyond them, unsuccessfully. Frustrated with myself and the barrage of memories, I pulled on a robe to hide the evidence of my confrontation with Owen.
Not that I could hide my face.
I was in the middle of prodding a wicked bruise on my cheekbone when my phone started ringing on the counter. I didn’t recognize the number at first glance, so I swiped it from the counter, and answered the call with a cautious, “Hello?”
“Ayda,” the voice greeted me in a whisper. There was no mistaking who it belonged to. The little bubble I’d locked myself into popped with a loud burst, and the anxious reality of our situation rose again, growing another head and severalsharp teeth.
“Rubin! Where the hell are you?”
“Can’t talk,” he whispered quickly, his words coming fast as something rustled on his end of the line. He paused, as though waiting, so I held my breath, concern rising with every second. Taking a deep breath, he continued in the same hushed and rushed tone. “I just needed you to know that I’m okay, and to tell you to keep your heads down. I’ll call again when I can. Please don’t call this number. They don’t know I have this phone.”
“Are you in trouble? Who are they? Where are you?” I asked in the same quiet tone as I started toward the door to shout for Drew. Unfortunately for all of us, the call had ended before I made it out of the room. “Shit.”
I looked at my phone in my hand again and did the only thing I could without raising too much of a ruckus. I sent a quick text asking for Drew to come to our room before I disappeared into our sanctuary to pull on some clothes and finally start the hellish day.
I was fully dressed and pulling on some socks when Drew came into our room, his eyes filled with concern, scanning me for injury or destruction of any kind.
“Rubin called me on a burner,” I muttered with little finesse.
“What? Where is he?”
“No idea.” I shrugged and repeated everything Rubin had said, word for word. “What do you think it means?”
Drew’s eyes had zoned out the way they did whenever he was trying to fit the pieces of a puzzle together. He was glancing up at the ceiling—jaw ticking as his thoughts got carried away with him.
“The kid’s in too deep,” he finally whispered.
I’d known Rubin most of his life. He was Tate’s best friend. Rubin was headstrong, funny, loyal, and bold. I knew everything about the kid, including the fact that he was smartenough to say no when he wasn’t willing to take a risk.
“Rubin doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do, Drew. Whatever he’s into, he made the decision to do it. He’s smart, though, so we need to trust that he has a plan. He’ll call us if he needs us.” I had to believe that. I did believe that.
“Him being smart isn’t my worry. I’ve seen what he can handle. What he’s been asked to do is my main concern.” Drew ran his hands over the back of his head roughly, making the longer lengths of his hair stand on end. He began to pace back and forth, his movements controlled as he studied the floor like it held all the answers he was searching for. “Eric walks over to Jedd and Rubin before he leaves the yard,” he muttered to himself. “Jedd rushes inside. That’s what Moose said.” Drew bobbed his head from side to side like his thoughts were making the motion for him. “Slater was asked to torch the training room by Eric. What was Jedd rushing back inside for? Why did Rubin rush out of the yard on his pushbike when he could have asked any of us to get him where he needed to go a hell of a lot faster than his legs could carry him?”
He ran his teeth over his bottom lip, chewing on the inside of his mouth once he released it. Then at once, he stopped, dropped his hands from his head, and looked up at me.
“Eric,” he whispered, his face stunned. “Misdirection. The tree. The fucking warehouse.” His eyes grew wider as random words fell from his lips. “Do you know something my father always told me as a boy, Ayda?”
I stared at him for a moment. “No.”
“If you can’t silence a problem, set fire to it, and then bathe in its ashes.” His eyes roamed over my body, landing on my stomach for only a second before he let them trail back up to my face. “Metaphorical bullshit back then, but he said those words all the time. If you can’t silence a problem, set fire to it then bathe in its ashes.” Drew took a step closer to me. “Heset fire to the training room. He set fire to Pete’s tree. He set fire to the remnants of the warehouse. All places The Hounds of Babylon would never burn to the ground, no matter the circumstances because history and honor come before anything else to us. We’d never torch our own Holy Grails. We’d never burn down our own training room. But do you know who would do those things…?”
“Walsh,” I muttered. “Eric created a diversion and misdirection with the fires, making it look like we were the targets while sending a message to Walsh and whoever else he’s involved with.”
“Because Eric is the original president of The Hounds of Babylon. Because he’s the one who needs to save this world he built more than any of us. Because he needs to prove a point, his loyalty, and his allegiance to our brotherhood.” Drew dragged in a breath and released it in a rush, a look of unexpected humor flashing across his face. “And because he’s a goddamn fucking genius—one I’ve underestimated. One who is trying to stick to a promise he made me not so long ago.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant about the ‘promise’. After all the time they’d spent together after Harry’s death, it could have been anything.
“He’s also the only one the ATF aren’t focused on.” I paused, letting his words catch up to me. As much as I hated to admit it, my curiosity had got the better of me. ”What promise did Eric make, Drew?”
“He promised me that if anyone in this club was going to take the fall for anything else, it was going to be him. Even if the blood was on my hands, he was going to make sure he was the one they went after.” Drew scowled, his nostrils flaring at the idea of it all. “And now the crazy bastard is actually following through with it, isn’t he?”