Brick Solid (Voodoo Troops MC Book 1) Page 12

  “Sprocket made a run. Got you covered.”

  “You always think of me.”

  “Location.”

  “Still on the road by the studio. Some idiot is on my butt with bright lights. Had to slow down, it's hard to see.”

  At that, Brick stood and paced. He ran a hand over his head and rubbed his neck. He knew he should have followed her home.

  “I’m almost to the light. He’ll either turn the other way or go around I’m sure.”

  By now, the common room had grown silent. All eyes on Brick; everyone on alert.

  “Details.”

  “I turned and he’s still behind me. There’s another lane, but he just...just slowed down behind me.”

  “Coming to meet you,” he stalked to his room and grabbed his truck keys.

  King motioned to KO, “Drive him.”

  KO nodded. He stood and moved toward Brick.

  “He’s finally passing,” Nealy told the phone.

  Brick blew out a held breath and hit the speaker button. “Sure you okay?”

  “Of course I am. I'll be there soon. It's just crazy he’s passing on the two lanes instead of the four we just turned off of.”

  “He's made both turns with you?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  KO took the keys from Brick's hand. Ready to roll.

  Bang.

  “He's got a gun Brick. He shot at me!” she panicked. “He's right next to me.”

  The clubhouse went into action. Brick barked directions as he climbed in the truck. Motorcycles shot out of the drive along with the truck.

  “Run, Sweet! We’re coming.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Stay calm. But drive as fast as you can. Be there in five.”

  “There’s a car. I can’t get around. He’s blocking me.” Nealy screamed every word into the phone.

  Brick, on the edge of his seat, pushed against the dash wishing they’d go faster as a crash sounded from the speaker.

  Nealy screamed.

  “Talk,” demanded Brick.

  “He rammed my car. It's hard to keep it on the road this fast. The ditches are deep and I....”

  Her voice was interrupted by a crash followed by more screaming.

  “Talk to me! Are you hurt?” he barked into the phone.

  “Ow! I’m stuck in the ditch.” She paused. “Brick he’s turning around.”

  “Almost to you.”

  Nealy’s car sat at an angle off the road. Gravel with patches of grass covered the ground between the car and road. To the right and front of the car, the ground dropped at a drastic incline where her tire dangled.

  The car had u-turned and come back. It pulled off the road behind her.

  Terrified, Nealy stayed in her car.

  Footsteps in the gravel halted next to her car door. A hand reached for the handle and pulled. It was locked. He stepped back and raised an arm. With the butt of a gun he shattered the back window. A large gloved hand reached in, opening the front door.

  Nealy screamed and ducked while grabbing at her seat belt to free herself.

  Lights in the distance appeared along with a low roar.

  The door creaked opened and a familiar face froze Nealy in her seat.

  “Time to pay.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You. I want you. He took you from me. Took my business, my life. I’m gonna show him what it feels like to lose everything you love,” he hissed. Then he stepped back and raised his arm.

  A gun. She was staring down the barrel of a gun. She threw herself across the console scrambling for the passenger door.

  His hand squeezed her ankle and yanked her back to her seat. “You're not getting away this time.”

  He let go and raised the gun again.

  Gravel crunched under a motorcycle as it veered from the pavement.

  Nealy placed her foot on the edge of her seat and launched herself over the console. As she twisted she caught a glimpse of a motorcycle flying past her door and into the man, knocking him to the ground several feet back. But not before the gun went off.

  Brick jumped from the truck before it stopped and ran to the car.

  Nealy lay across the console, arms covering her head. Blood covered her leg between her knee and hip.

  “Nealy!”

  He leaned in and moved her arms. He recognized the terror in her eyes as she whirled into him.

  She squeezed his neck while tears streamed down her face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t listen to you.”

  “Shh. This is on me,” he tightened his hold needing to feel her breathe.

  “That’s that photographer. I was nice to him that’s all. Then he took those pictures. I never saw him again.” She began rambling incoherently.

  “Look at me.”

  She pulled away from his chest enough to look in his face.

  “Stalked you 'cause of me. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Brick, if you want him. You gotta do it now before the cops get here,” someone yelled.

  Sly lay sprawled on the gravel surrounded by raised guns. His gun several feet away. Flashing lights and sirens approached in the distance.

  Another car now sat near Nealy's. A young man folded out and approached her car.

  Brick pulled the bandana from his head and tied it around her leg. Nealy was his focus right now. His priority. He realized in that moment she was more important than anything. Even dealing out revenge. Revenge could be done anytime.

  “Ma’am are you alright? I called 911 when I saw him become aggressive. Got my kids in the car that’s all I could do and keep them safe. I just stayed ahead in view.”

  Brick stood. Wiped blood from his hand and held it out. The stranger accepted it as he recounted what he witnessed.

  “Appreciate it.”

  Yeah, Sly would have to wait for his punishment but he would pay. And pay dearly. Brick would see to that.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nealy was headed home.

  Sly Knox had been arrested.

  The bullet had been removed with no complications. It had torn muscle tissue, but the doctor assured her she would fully recover. After two days she began walking a little.

  Her hospital stay had been filled with visitors, flowers, and phone calls. All the guys visited. Her friends and coworkers visited. Brick left only when she slept—to shower, change, and return.

  He had a hard time with guilt. If he had just done away with the man instead of the studio and photos, she never would have been hurt.

  She assured him he had done the right thing. She was proud of him and thankful for him.

  They finally agreed to put it behind them understanding neither was to blame.

  Edna and her fiancée came each day after work. With Nealy in the hospital and not knowing when she would return, Mrs. Tedditon had hired someone new to fill in. The personalities of the new teller and the receptionist clashed. Each day proved to be entertaining to Edna as she silently enjoyed the exchanges between the two self-proclaimed divas. Of course they laughed about the antics Edna vividly shared with Nealy.

  Marcel informed them he would take care of any legal matters for her free of charge; to concentrate on healing.

  The man who called 911 stopped in with his wife one day. They agreed to come to a clubhouse cookout when Nealy was up and about.

  The day following the shooting, when she was fully awake from surgery Nealy called her parents.

  “Hello, Kinman residence,” the housekeeper answered.

  “Hey, Mabell. This is Nealy. Are my parents in?”

  “No, Miss Nealy, I’m sorry. They're out. Don’t know when they will be back.”

  She could hear the hesitation in her voice. Nealy did not doubt Maybell had been instructed to block her calls. But she had to try. She relayed a message telling them where she was and what happened.

  “Are you alright?” Maybell asked with true concern in her voice.

  “Yes, I will be fine. Just wanted them t
o hear it from me. Maybe speak to them.”

  “I will definitely pass the message along,” she assured Nealy.

  Now she was going home with no word from her mother. She had received a beautiful bouquet of roses the next day. No name on the card but she recognized her father’s scribble: Take care. Love you.

  “Put it behind you. She has.”

  Nealy twisted and squinted at Brick.

  “Mother,” he answered her unspoken question.

  “How do you know these things?”

  “I pay attention.”

  She shifted to the window.

  “Your life is full of good,” he said and glanced at her.

  She nodded. Still looking out the window.

  “Don't need any negative.”

  She turned back to him, “My house is not this way. You said you were taking me home.”

  “Am.”

  “Clubhouse isn’t this way.”

  “Nope.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Our house.”

  He picked up their joined hands rubbing his lips gently across her fingers.

  “Relax,” he told her.

  She smiled and leaned back.

  He turned into a driveway that twisted through trees to end at a beautiful two-story log house. A large shaded yard showed glimpses of the sun reflecting on the water. When the house came into full view he pulled to a stop.

  “It’s gorgeous! This is your home?”

  He shook his head. “Our home.”

  Her eyes lit up at the knowledge he still wanted to be with her every day.

  He continued to the house and parked. Squeezing her hand, he pushed open his door then jumped out and rounded the truck. She leaned into him as he lifted and carried her through the door, kicking it closed.

  He stopped in the center of a grand room. Large leather furniture filled the room with a massive television.

  “Wow. I can imagine the club hanging out here,” she laughed. “It's huge.”

  “Been known to happen.”

  He spun and carried her through an archway into an impressive kitchen. Marble counter tops covered a beautiful wooden bar and cabinets to match. An industrial oven sat next to the wall. The room appeared unused.

  “Think you can bake in here?”

  Nealy's eyes lit up. “Oh my! I've never seen an oven so large. You must cook a lot.”

  He shook his head, “It's yours to break in.”

  They toured the house room by room before he placed her on a bed in the only fully furnished room upstairs.

  She reclined with her back against a massive wooden headboard. Her legs stretched out in front of her.

  “You decorate. I liked your place and now I know why. You. Home is with you. Make this home. Raise a family here.”

  “I’m happy anywhere you are. But I love it.”

  “And I love you.” He leaned in placing his hands on either side of her.

  Her hand rose to his cheek. Her thumb caressed his beard. “That’s the first time you’ve said it. You show me every day. But it’s nice to hear.”

  “I’ve loved you since the moment you didn’t scare away. And you love me.”

  “I do.” Her hands slowly slid up his arms to his shoulders. “I could see you were not the monster you claimed to be.”

  His lips brushed hers. She pulled him closer. He kissed her long and deep taking her breath away.

  Her fingers found their way to his back, slid down his shirt and underneath to skin. She ran her hands up taking his shirt with them.

  “Not ‘til you’re well.”

  “I’m good.”

  He laughed, “I know you’re good. You’re great. But we’re gonna wait.”

  She leaned against the headboard pouting.

  “Matter of fact,” he straightened to face her. “No more sex for Miss Nealy Kinman.”

  Her mouth dropped open but no sound came.

  His mouth turned up to one side.

  “Next woman I make love to will be Mrs. Nealy Jackson.”

  She squealed and attempted to launch herself toward him.

  “Easy,” he pulled her to him. “That a yes?”

  “Yes!”

  “Incentive enough for a short engagement?”

  She nodded eagerly.

  “You plan it. I make it happen.”

  “That is so sweet,” her hands framed his face.

  “Don’t tell.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sweet.”

  She giggled before turning serious. “I would like to be off crutches. Other than that I don’t want to wait either.”

  * * *

  Brick knew before he pulled the door open who was pounding on it because no one announced their arrival like King. A doorbell was useless for him. He believed the larger the house the louder the knock. Or so he said. Brick believed King did it just to irritate.

  “Up for company? I have food,” he offered pizza boxes he held. “How’s our patient?”

  “Feisty. Stubborn,” Brick said matter of fact as the corner of his mouth turned up. “Not complaining.” He took the bag of drinks.

  King continued to the living room and placed the pizzas on the coffee table. He stepped to where Nealy reclined on the sofa with her leg up.

  “How you doing darlin’?” He kissed her cheek.

  “The pain is better and I’m walking better.”

  “Good to hear,” he settled into a large leather chair to the side of her. “Also, hear you got a little surprise on your finger.”

  She held up her left hand and wiggled it showing off a diamond ring with large center stone surrounded by smaller ones.

  Brick entered with drinks for everyone.

  “You got a date or plans?” King asked them.

  “Soon as I can walk without these things,” she patted the crutches next to her. “Not much longer.”

  “That’s it?” he looked to Brick surprised.

  “Simple. Just us. No frills,” she offered.

  “You or her?” King cocked his head to Brick sounding surprised.

  “Her,” Brick confirmed.

  “Most women plan a wedding to death and go overboard. What’s up?”

  Nealy answered King. “Big weddings take time and money. I don’t want to drag it out and I have a budget. Besides, a wedding is just a ceremony. Small and simple doesn't mean I love him any less.”

  King looked to Brick. Raised his brows.

  Brick shrugged.

  “You tell her. I tried,” Brick voiced as he exited the room again.

  “How many guests?” King asked Nealy.

  “What?”

  “Work with me, darlin'. How many?”

  “Well, all of you and I have a few friends. Not many.” She shrugged. “Thirty people at the most maybe.

  “Got it. Small and personal. In or outside?”

  “Good weather, outside would be lovely in the evening with the trees lit up,” she mused.

  He was making progress. King nodded and one corner of his lips turned up.

  “Like the atmosphere at The Brick House? I’ve been told that’s romantic,” King suggested.

  “Exactly!” Her eyes lit up.

  “There you go. Small, personal wedding at The Brick House. Already decorated. Has food, drinks, and servers.”

  “I can’t do that,” Nealy exclaimed.

  “Why the hell not?”

  “That’s a public place. And a busy one. That wouldn't be personal.”

  “It will be if it’s closed for the wedding,” King insisted.

  She hesitated. “No, I can’t do that. And I’m not asking Brick to pay for it.”

  “Why can't he pay for it? I know he would,” King questioned.

  “I know he would too. But,” she hesitated. “It's not right for the groom to pay. That's my responsibility. I want to.”

  King nodded his understanding. “Just so happens I know the owner very well. Let me talk to him. I’m pretty sure
he will be glad to do that and at a good price.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You know our first date was there,” she smiled. “And our first kiss.” She blushed.

  “Then it's the perfect place.”

  He paused. Grinned. Then yelled. “Hey, Brick!”

  Brick stepped back in blowing on a brownie. With one boot still on the floor and the other leg bent, he sat on the back of the sofa and handed Nealy the brownie.

  “Not as good as yours but still warm from the oven.”

  He leaned and crossed his arms resting them on his bent leg before turning to King, “Yeah?”

  “This little lady would like her wedding at The Brick House. Think you could close it to the public for a day?”

  Her eyes popped and her head jerked to Brick.

  “Sure.”

  “See. Told you he would do it.” He grinned to Nealy then back to Brick and continue, “Oh, price? Lady is on a budget.”

  “We’ll negotiate that,” he winked at Nealy.

  “You own The Brick House?” her question came out slowly.

  He nodded.

  “No secrets?”

  As the words escaped her mouth, she remembered how the waiter seemed confused when he paid him. He had mentioned The House. Cowboy telling him he couldn’t work one night. It all made sense now.

  “Surprise maybe,” Brick corrected, “no secret.”

  “I never caught on to that.”

  Brick and King laughed.

  * * *

  The wedding was magical.

  With intense therapy and determination, Nealy could manage without crutches in a couple weeks. Roughly a month after being shot she walked down the aisle without any indication of the wound.

  Brick had closed the restaurant for two days. One for her to make sure everything was how she wanted. The second for the wedding.

  One small dining room had been cleared and made into a dressing room for the day. The entire staff was on hand to assist in any way possible.

  Nealy and Brick stood alone with the preacher for their vows under a tree filled with lights against a breathtaking sky of orange and yellows. She wore a strapless white dress, fitted to the hips then flared out into a full skirt. The short train was trimmed in satin. He was dressed as usual in black jeans, motorcycle boots, and his cut, but wore a white button-up shirt underneath.

  The club attended, dressed in black. Black jeans, black t-shirts, and of course black leather.