Page 1 of Hurricane's House

Hurricane

Hurricane knew that someone was breaking into his clubhouse after hours, and sleeping in his office, he just needed to figure out who it was. Every morning he’d get to the club earlier and earlier to find the place empty, but the telltale signs were there. Today’s findings included a half-empty Cheetos bag and an empty bottle of soda. Plus, his sofa had a blanket draped across it, and he was sure that it didn’t belong to him. In fact, he had never seen the quilt covered in pink flowers in his life.

What the person breaking into his club didn’t know was that two days ago, he had Chains install some security cameras around the place and he was going to spend the morning going through the footage to try to catch whoever had been sleeping on his sofa.

He sat down at his massive desk and pulled up the video footage on his ancient laptop. Fancy gadgets weren’t his thing, but security cameras had become an unfortunate necessity. He sipped the stuff that the gas station around the corner passed off as coffee and winced. He really needed to get a coffee pot for the clubhouse, even if he might be the only person using it.He couldn’t stand drinking the sludge from the gas station and making coffee at his place never seemed to happen. He usually left in a hurry, needing to put out one fire or another for the club, but as the Prez of the Royal Bastards in Yonkers, New York, that was his job.

He sat for what felt like hours, but honestly, it only ended up being about twenty minutes until he saw something that had him doing a double take. A girl had been sneaking into his bar every night and leaving before dawn every morning.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Hurricane breathed. “It’s a little chick.” She looked to be about thirteen, and the poor girl seemed to be scared out of her mind. She was scanning the area, making sure that no one was around, but there was more to it than that. The vacant look in her dark eyes seemed to look straight through him when she looked up into the camera. The little chick even smiled at the security camera just before she broke into his back door. She was good at picking a lock, and quick too. No one would have even noticed her if he didn’t have cameras watching her. She seemed to know what she was doing and didn’t mind being caught on video doing it.

Hurricane sent a copy of the security footage to Reacher and Chains, hoping that one of them would be willing to help him figure out how to catch the club’s newest chick. He couldn’t have a teenager breaking into his club. Hell, the cops would be crawling all over his place if she was caught there. No, he needed to catch her, and fast, if he wanted to keep the club’s doors open. His brothers in the Royal Bastards were counting on him doing just that.

Reacher was at his place that evening, setting up a plan to trap their little assailant before she could do much more damage. “I say we go back over to the club and just wait for her to show up—you know, catch her in the act,” Reacher said.

“If she sees our bikes there, she won’t break in,” Hurricane said. “I say we wait until we know that she’s there and then go in. You know, the security cameras are a live feed. We can watch her break in and then show up—take her by surprise.”

“What happens if she calls the cops and tells them that we are assaulting her? What will we do then?” Reacher asked.

“Well, we have the footage of her breaking and entering,” Hurricane said. “That has to count for something.”

“I’m just worrying for nothing. You’re right. How much trouble can one teenage girl be?” Reacher asked.

“Now, you’ve gone and jinxed us,” Hurricane grumbled. “I remember my kid sisters when they were teenagers, and they were awful.” He was the oldest of four and it was his job, according to his father, to keep his sisters out of trouble—which was damn near impossible to do.

“You have a sister?” Reacher asked.

“I do,” Hurricane said. “Two of them and a brother. I have a large extended family.” Holidays were hell but he wouldn’t trade any one of them. He loved his big family and having both of his parents around still was a bonus. He never settled down, but it was nice to see all his siblings settled with families.

“Are your sisters hot?” Reacher asked, bobbing his eyebrows at Hurricane.

“No, they are not hot,” Hurricane shouted, “and they’re both married.”

“Just my luck—you have ugly, married sisters. I can’t seem to find a decent woman to date in this town.” Reacher was a new member of the Royal Bastards, and he had to admit, he really liked the guy.

“I’m sure that some barfly or club bunny will notice you at some point,” Hurricane offered.

“Well, they aren’t beating down my door to get to me,” Reacher grumbled. “Anyway, back to business. When do you want to trap your teenage delinquent?”

“The sooner the better,” Hurricane said. He wanted to put this whole mess behind them and get on with club business. They couldn’t do that with a teenage girl sneaking around the place. “How about tonight?”

“I’m game,” Reacher agreed. “I’ll stop back by here after I’m done at Yonkers’ mom’s place. I promised to check in on her. I’m still helping her out to give Yonkers a break.”

“That’s kind of you,” Hurricane said.

Reacher shrugged, “He’s a good guy and I know he’s burning the candle at both ends with the new baby and new wife.”

“Yeah, he’s been putting in overtime doing everything for everyone. It’s nice that you’re helping him out, man,” Hurricane said. He could tell that Reacher didn’t like being praised. In fact, he seemed downright uncomfortable with it.

“Okay, I’m heading out,” Reacher said, changing the topic.

“See you later, man,” Hurricane said, showing his friend out. Now, all he had to do was wait for the little chick to break into the clubhouse. Then, he and Reacher could catch her in the act, call the cops, and be rid of her.

Hurricane had watched the security footage for hours. His eyes were dry, and he felt about ready to drop, but he was determined to catch his teenage assailant. Reacher had called him to check in, but he was needed over at Yonker’s mom’s place more, so he told him not to worry about coming back. He lied and told Reacher that they could raid the club another night. But he didn’t plan on waiting. All Hurricane needed was for the teenage girl to show up to his club and then, he planned on heading over there to catch her red-handed.

His laptop chimed and he wondered what was going on. One glance at the screen and he knew exactly what was happening—the teenage girl was back and breaking into his club. “Got you,” he whispered to the laptop. He grabbed his bike keys and tossed them back down to his desk. His motorcycle would make too much noise and would alert the girl to him coming. No, he would take his truck. It was practically brand new and quiet as an electric car. He picked up his truck keys and grabbed his wallet, noting that it was past two in the morning. He was exhausted, but if he could get rid of her tonight, he might have a chance at a decent night’s sleep if he was lucky.

By the time he got to the club, the place was dark. He knew that barging in through the front door might take away his element of surprise, so he opted to go in through the back door, blocking the front entrance with his pickup truck. If she tried to go out the front door, she’d be trapped. He finally had her, and she was hopefully unaware of him being there.

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