Page 80 of Tusk's Fury

I point out, “That only solves half the problem. It does nothing to draw Brittany’s mom closer to the church and people she cares about.”

Rigs frowns. “I think someone suggesting that because she’/s devout, God spared her from the disease might work, particularly if they’re extremely religious.”

Queenie speaks up, “I’m just looking for a solution that gives both my daughter and my granddaughter what they need without hurting the other.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you spoke up because we were getting ready to unload both barrels on Silas Harper.”

Queenie reminds us, “That’s why I came to talk to you. To make sure that didn’t happen.”

I begin working my way through this situation. “We have a contact person meeting with Harper tomorrow at midnight.”

Queenie’s voice turns angry. “Our people on the inside told us about the plan to bring my great-grandchild to Harper, and that’s where I draw the line. We’re not dragging an innocent baby into this. Tell me you understand that, Tusk.”

I immediately say, “Oh hell no. The plan was never to give up the baby or even bring her to a meet-up with Harper. The plan was more along the lines of ambushing him, getting my old lady back, and maybe giving him a little tune-up or even a dirt nap if he doesn’t seem to be getting it.”

Siege raises his voice slightly, “How about this for a plan? We keep the meeting at midnight with Harper. We ambush him like we planned and get Brittany back. Only, one of our bikes gets left behind, and your guys find fake lab work for Brittany showing some kind of nasty disease that strikes every other generation. That way, no taint of having the disease falls on her mother. There can also be a key to a safety deposit box in a sealed envelope along with a copy of Queenie’s will. Of course, Harper will steal the map, go on his great adventure, and if he comes up empty-handed, it will just be another dead end, and they’re used to running down dead ends anyway.”

Queenie perks up. “That actually sounds very doable.”

Chapter 28

Brittany

Last night, I barely slept, my mind would not be quiet, no matter what I did. I kept having nightmares of Harper controlling me, making me do things I didn’t want to do if I wanted my baby fed and clothed. I even had dreams of him filling her head with the religious dogma of his skewed beliefs. The idea of Harper getting his hands on Victoria, of him playing daddy with my daughter, made my blood boil. If he so much as laid a finger on her, I’d end him. No hesitation, no regrets.

Now, dressed head to toe in dark clothes, I pace the already worn-out carpet of my room. I have a pounding headache and tons of restless energy. The clock ticks down the minutes until we leave for Las Salinas. I feel a dark foreboding, a bad gut feeling that I just can’t shake.

A sudden noise makes me freeze mid-step. My door cracks open, and Jasper’s bulky form slips through. He moves quickly, peering outside before closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m not interested in you,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest.

He grins, cocky and sure of himself. “Give me a minute to talk, and you will be.”

“Don’t make me start throwing things and causing a ruckus.”

Before he can answer, we hear a muffled sound from outside the door. He steps closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You need to hear me out if you wanna make it through the night.”

I sigh, already exhausted by whatever this is. “Fine. Say your piece and get out.”

Jasper’s grin disappears, and his expression turns serious. “Tonight, you need to stay close to me and my brothers. And stay the hell away from Harper.”

Something in his tone sends a prickle of unease down my spine. My eyes narrow on him. “And why’s that? Give me the short version.”

He studies me for a moment before sighing. “Are you sure you wanna know? I only ask because this is about as messed up as it gets.”

“Just spit it out, Jasper. I’ve been out in the world and can handle anything you can throw at me.”

He takes a deep breath, then drops a bombshell. “For starters, I’m your uncle.”

I stand there, stunned beyond belief. “Excuse me?”

“My mom’s name is Victoria Jenkins,” he continues. “She married my dad, Rock. That makes her your grandmother.”

I shake my head, trying to process everything. “Okay, just… keep going. Tell me what you want me to know.”

“My mom—your grandmother—is dead set on getting you out without hurting Harper, your mom, or the church.”

Uncrossing my arms and putting them on my hips, I tell him skeptically. “If what you’re saying is true, and I’m not saying it is, I understand not hurting my mom, but explain why we can’t kick Harper’s ass into the next century.”

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