Page 50 of Everest

I put my elbows on the table. “We also got a missin’ woman, Amara. The one London was lookin’ for. We can't ignore the connection between the dead motherfucker who attempted to shut London up and Velasco. The former Velasco didn’t just run drugs, he was runnin’ in the skin trade too.” My gut coils at the thought of what could have happened to London if Tony hadn’t reacted in time as he did.

“Fuck,” Riggs states.

“So, what’s the play?” Nova asks.

Riggs glances around the table. “We lock it down tighter than a gnat’s ass. No one goes solo. Women stay close. We ride only if we have to. I want someone with the women full-time. Keep eyes on our families.” His eyes cut to Kiwi. “Kiwi, keep diggin’. I want a face, location, and anything we can find on this new Velasco. Y’all see somethin’ I’m the first to know. Got it?” Riggs’ tone is stern, all business. He stands. “I know we all got shit to do and lives to live. Roll out and stay vigilant."

With church over, I set out to find Catcher. I have something to handle and need his help. I find him in the kitchen, drinking coffee and sitting alone. He looks at me. “Need you with London. Don’t let her out of your sight. Tell her to take it up with me if she gets pissy.”

He nods. “Roger that.”

I step into the main room of the clubhouse. It’s quieter than usual but not dead. Everyone is mingling, staying close for now while tending to the kids. Over by the pool table, I spot Nova. He has his arm draped casually over Promise’s shoulder, head bent low, saying something only she’s meant to hear, judging by the blush on her cheeks. Piper is near them, perched on the arm of the sofa, with Kiwi’s arm around her waist. I walk up to Nova, nodding. “Need to go handle somethin’. Mind ridin’ along?”

Nova leans in and kisses Promise without questioning me, then turns to Piper and presses a quick kiss to the side of her head. He then looks at Kiwi. “Keep them safe.”

“You got it.” Kiwi salutes.

Nova follows me through the front door. There’s no sun today, but the air is thick and muggy. I head for the bikes, and as we walk, Nova glances sideways at me.

“So, you and London.”

“Yup.”

“About time you two finally stopped pretendin’ you didn’t want to take a bite,” he says, swinging a leg over his bike.

I chuckle low and rough. “We’re still navigatin' what we got or where it’s goin’. But I’m in it, brother. For however long, or whatever comes our way, I’m here for the ride,” I confess.

Nova nods. “That’s all that fuckin’ matters.”

I climb onto my bike, the rumble of the engine resonating under my grip as I twist the throttle. Nova follows suit, his bike roaring to life beside me, and we roll out onto the road together.

The ride out to the facility is quiet. Nova and I cruise side by side down a long stretch of a two-lane highway. The further we get from town, the more my mind drifts. Not to Velasco or the threat hanging over our heads. London consumes my headspace. We’re moving fast. Fast enough to rattle a man who doesn’t rattle easily. But when you know, you know. And I do.Without a doubt, when I picture my future, London is the center of it.

We pull into the parking lot of the nursing home. It’s quaint, tucked away behind a line of pine trees. It’s damn near peaceful.

Nova kills his engine, eyeing me, looking for answers.

“London’s mom is here,” I offer, and he nods.

“I’ll keep post out here.” Nova climbs off his bike and stretches his legs.

Inside, I handle one of the things I came for—money. London won’t need to stress about her mom’s care again. Before I go, I ask if I can see her.

The nurse who leads me down the hall to Faye’s room smiles. “She’s having a really good day.” We stop outside room 208.

When I step into the room, I stop cold. Faye is sitting by the window. The sun finally breaks through the dark clouds, spilling over her hair as she lifts a mug to her lips. She turns and sees me standing in the doorway. Faye looks like my woman—older, softer, but with the same eyes.

“You must be Everest,” she says, her voice sweet and steady. “I would know you anywhere by how my girl talks about you.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s me,” I say, and walk into the room, sitting in an empty chair across from her. “She talks about me, huh?” I can’t help but grin.

Faye laughs softly. “All the time.”

“I care about her,” I admit.

Faye looks out the window, her gaze far off like she’s seeing memories she doesn’t want to let go of. “London was always a strong one. As a child, she always insisted on standing on her own two feet, even when they were shaking.”

That’s my woman.

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