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  Anarchist Season 2 Book 4

  Jordan Silver

  Copyright © 2019 by Jordan Silver

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Law

  2. Law

  3. Lyon

  4. Mancini

  5. Mallory

  6. Law

  7. Kat

  Law

  For the next little while, we threw around ideas about the best course of action to take next. But just about what you'd expect to happen in a room full of hardheaded men all set in their own way is exactly what went down. Basically, we were going around on a loop and getting nowhere.

  This was all due thanks, especially to one Colton Lyon. For some fucked up reason, he's the only one of us who never saw any law or military action and yet, whether it's the ever-resourceful Mancini, the resolute SEALs or the tough as nails Creed, we all somehow seem to bow to his dictatorial ass.

  I'll give it to him, his battle strategy is as good as any I've ever seen, but his murdering ass only knows one recourse, to kill anything and everything that gets in his way. If not for the senator situation, I'd be with him there, just blast all the fucks and disappear them, but that shit's too sticky. Colt didn't give a fuck!

  Every once in awhile, Chaz or one of the others on watchdog detail would pop by or call in with a report on the women who apparently had glued their asses to their seats because they hadn't moved since we left them earlier.

  I'm guessing they were still on a baby high or some shit, and that's what had them acting like they had some sense, something I wasn't holding out much hope of lasting for any real amount of time. Last I heard Dana Sue had some of the guys childproofing my damn house. Kid can't even move yet, and she's already starting her shit.

  I have a feeling her girls had a hand in that. For the past few months, it's like they'd come up with a new idea every other day and have to carry it out as soon as possible. Meaning us men had to carry out whatever hair-brained scheme they came up with while they sat on their asses stirring up shit.

  The storage room is stacked wall to wall with baby and kid shit because of this like they were planning for the apocalypse or some shit. Dana-Sue said something about ants and sluggards when I asked her what she and her crew were up to and just went on about her business like that shit made sense. Fucking nut!

  They've also been stockpiling food and emergency supplies, something the other women have been doing according to the SEALs and Mancini. Even Lyon's been known to grumble about his Kat doing the same thing, but so far, none of them has ever uttered a word or given any explanation as to why they're on that shit all of a sudden.

  I'm secretly pleased that they have the foresight to do that shit, though. It shows they know how to use their brains for something more than being a pain in the ass.

  If the whole lot of them could stick to that kind of shit during their daily gabfest, how easy would my life be? But I'm not kidding myself with that shit. Up until the day before she gave birth, Dana-Sue was getting into shit.

  As soon as I draw Junior out of his hidey-hole and put one in him, I can concentrate on straightening her little ass out, but right now, I need to put all my focus on this shit before Colton Lyon leaves my town swimming in blood.

  It's to the point now where even my boys are siding with him, and they should know better. But he has a way of making his shit sound like the best damn idea. I don't know since when they all became bloodthirsty heathens.

  I just sat and listened, only opening my mouth to veto his shit because there was no point in wasting my breath to say anything else. All his ideas came back to one thing, death. Not that I'm opposed, at least not where Junior's concerned. But if we off him and the asshole sheriff at the same time, that's just going to bring down more heat on my head.

  If there were a way to do it without eyes falling on me and my people, I'd be the first one to say let's go for it. But since getting married, and now with the kid, I can no longer take those kinda chances. It's not like before when I had only myself to think about.

  Speaking of my son, every once in awhile, I had to shake my head to clear it because my mind kept going to him; I miss him already. He's brought a new kind of excitement to my life. It's because of him and his mother that I'm trying to tread more carefully now to make the right move at the right time.

  If I fuck up, it's not just me that will suffer, but those two as well. That's not something I can live with, no matter how much of a bitch Colt calls me for it. This fucking guy, he has more guts than ten men.

  "Colt, I told you before, we can't hit them both at the same time it'll raise too many eyebrows. Everyone knows I blame the sheriff for not arresting Royce for the murders. If both he and Junior come up missing at the same time, what do you think's gonna happen? "

  "How much time you plan on spending on this shit? I gotta head out."

  "The fuck, you wanna do it now?"

  "Well yeah, I'm here." This fuck!

  "Colt, are you bent? I don't even know where this hump is hiding. I had to take time away from my shit to deal with that shit in the desert, so I'm behind on the asshole sheriff, and nobody knows where Junior's prissy ass has been hiding."

  "So let me handle it. I told you this shit like a year ago, didn't I? If you'd let me take care of it then, we wouldn't be here now."

  "That's what I'm saying."

  "Creed…fuck, look you two, I said I'm gonna handle it." And so we went round and round again.

  As if he had some kind of radar or worst yet, had my place bugged, Mancini called right in the middle of our little brainstorming session.

  At this point, it had already taken me the better part of two hours to talk Lyon and Creed out of sticking their noses in my shit and was still at it when the phone rang.

  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to get it through their heads that this was something I had to do myself. Granted, we've all been watching each other's six for the last year or so, but this was different, this shit is personal.

  So, when Mancini called, it was a nice break from the mental fuck that is dealing with their shit, because I was getting nowhere. Or so I thought. I didn't even get to say hello before he started in with his shit too.

  "My ears are ringing, what do you people want now?" Slick fuck even sounds smooth when he's bitching. Probably sitting at home in a thousand dollars' worth of designer duds. Fruit cake.

  "Ain't nobody talking about you spook, the fuck!" I rolled my eyes at Colt and pushed him out of the way to get him away from the phone, which I'd put on speaker.

  "What's up Hank, how's Cierra doing? Is she about ready to drop the kid yet? I hear these women around here making noise about heading to your neck of the woods for the main event."

  "Actually your wife just called to say she gave birth, congratulations."

  I all but forget sometimes that the women had grown as close as they are now. Whatever one is up to, the others know. The only reason they weren't all here for the baby's birth is because he came early. Pretty sure they'll still descend in droves next week as planned.

  We exchanged bullshit small talk for five minutes before Colt, and his impatient ass had had enough. I'm surprised it took him that long.

  "You fucks don't have nothing better to do? I have to be on the road in about an hour to get back to my shit before my kid levels my fucking place." Whipped all to fuck!

  "Your house is still standing, Lyon. I just spoke t
o Catalina about an hour ago."

  "The fuck! What were you talking to my kid about?" I wonder how those nails were that he had for breakfast. This fucking guy!

  "Stuff! By the way, do you guys know what your women are up to? What do they want with senator St. John?" We all looked around the room at each other dumbfounded.

  "How do you know about that?" He snickered, which reminded us just who we were talking to and why that question was a bit pointless. "Let me rephrase, how did you find out about him?"

  "Let's just say my wife likes to use my state-of-the-art equipment."

  "And? You went snooping behind her?"

  "It's my shit, now what gives? You can't tell me he's into any of the shit we're dealing with, I know him he's not the type."

  "You know him?" Brand damn near jumped out of his seat.

  "Yeah, we worked on a few things together, why? What's going on?"

  "What did your wife tell you?"

  "She didn't tell me shit. I just saw some cryptic notes which came back to your woman and his private number, which is not easy to get, I might add."

  "It's your call, Brand." He didn't need me to explain. Since it was his girl, it was up to him whether or not he wanted anyone else involved. "Are you secure, Mancini?"

  "What do you think, Brandon."

  "Yeah, stupid question! The senator is my wife's father." We had to fill him in on the particulars, which lead to even more questions, and by the time we were through another hour had gone by. I was getting antsy to see my son, but no way was I going to say that shit out loud, especially not in front of Lyon. His ass!

  "Okay, so the way I see it, you need to strike and strike fast. The sheriff isn't so much of a problem; it's this Jr. guy that's the hold up since you can't get a bead on him. Give me a few, and I'll get back to you on that."

  "What are you going to do? No one touches him but me."

  "You need to find him first, you fuck!"

  "Shut up, Colt!"

  "I'm not in your neck of the woods Law, so there isn't much I can do, but I can locate him for you."

  "How do you plan to do that?" Another snicker came over the speaker.

  "I have my ways. I'm out catch you later. Wait for my call." He hung up, and for some reason, the room felt lighter.

  It's strange the effect this guy has on all of us, something I'd noticed not only with the SEALs but with Lyon as well, as much as he protests each time the man's name is mentioned.

  As someone who doesn't share our military background, a relative unknown, he'd fit right in with the rest of us and truth be known, has been the one to open many doors that would've remained closed to the rest of us no matter how hard we tried.

  I'd say him, and Lyon were both great add-ons to our motley crew of ex-military men who had yet to lay down the sword. Truth be told, I never expected to face as much shit on my home court as I had out in the field. If not for these guys banding together, there's no telling how any of this shit would've played out.

  "Okay then, I guess we'll wait and see what he comes up with." I addressed the room at large. Lyon looked at his watch and bitched under his breath before heading for the door.

  "I gotta make a call. Fucking friends and shit!" He slammed out the door with his miserable ass, and I looked at his boys, who just shrugged and grinned before following him.

  "Brand, I guess you can tell your girl we're working on it." I was actually glad for Mancini's help there; I wasn't too jazzed about making her wait to contact her father after all this time, that shit must've been hard on her. After losing my dad, I now understand fully how important that relationship is, no matter how old you are.

  "I gotta go see my son; you fucks done for the day? Clay, you cool, or do we need to save your ass from Ginger-Lee again?" Seems like we have to do that shit at least once a week. She's done everything but shoot him since she moved here. And since news of her pregnancy broke, his ass has become even more of a shipwreck.

  If Dana Sue is a pain in the ass, his woman probably invented that shit, and she seems to take pleasure in teaching the other women around here how to perfect the art.

  "I'm good! Her pregnant ass can't get around as well as she used to." Of course, we degenerated into talks about the women and their shit as usual before we trooped out of the room one after the other.

  Law

  My house didn't look much different than when I left it hours earlier. The women were still gathered in the living room, but someone had been to the kitchen because lunch was on the table. There was no sign of the sheep, so I'm guessing the wives had taken care of it.

  "Is he asleep?" She still had the baby bundled up in her arms like it was the middle of winter. "I just fed him, but this boy doesn't like sleep it seems like. He's been staring wide-eyed at everyone and everything for the last half an hour."

  Probably for self-preservation, poor kid. I reached for him, and she grudgingly gave him up after fussing at me about how to hold his head the right way. He looked up at me with my eyes, and my heart melted. Fuck me; I'm so done!

  Is this how my dad felt the first time he held me in his arms? Did his whole world shift too. Did he think of all the things he had to do to make my life better? How could something this small pack such a punch? I knew without having to be told that my life was no longer my own. Whatever his mother, the sneak hadn't already taken was now his.

  She was right about his eyes; he stared up at me with a steady look as if studying me. "Hey, big guy, daddy's here to save you." I kissed his forehead and went back to perusing the room.

  "Where's Lyon?" He and his wife were nowhere to be seen. I was sure he wouldn't just leave out without saying bye, so he had to be around here somewhere.

  "He barged in about five minutes before you did and muttered something to Kat before dragging her out of the room." Why the fuck is she blushing? From the way the rest of them acted, I wondered just what exactly he'd walked in on them doing that had made him react that way. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Brand leaning in close to whisper in his woman's ear.

  I guess he was about to tell her that we knew what the hell she and her crew have been up to. Then again, if what I suspect is true about just how Clay got the news out of Ginger-Lee, she may already know that that cat's out the bag.

  I know he has the good sense not to tell her how Mancini found out. We've decided to keep that ace in the hole for future fuckery. Now, all we have to do the next time they get up to some shit is have Mancini snoop behind his woman. I can't believe this girl has got me to the point where that shit is even on my radar. Shit, I almost forgot about Lyon.

  "What were you lot doing when he walked in?" She got twitchy, and I noticed Ginger-Lee wasn't looking too comfortable either. The room looked set for a showdown with the men towering over their women while the women tried to look as innocent as possible for this bunch.

  We'd already decided not to take them to task for getting into shit since it was pretty understandable what they'd been up to. I was also secretly pleased that they had the presence of mind to stand up for one another.

  They haven't had it easy living here; none of them have, seeing as how they've been virtual prisoners for the better part of a year or so. That's another reason why I want this shit over and done with.

  It's been more than a year since they've had the freedom to move around beyond the walls of the ranch turned compound, and I imagine they're chomping at the bit to get out.

  I hadn't been too jazzed about making the trip to New York to see Mancini and his girl before, but now that I think of it, I guess I can make my way through it. I hate fucking big cities.

  "We weren't doing anything, what could we have been doing? We've been here all morning." I told her ass about lying to me; I'll deal with that later. The last time I chastised her in front of her girls, she sulked for damn near a whole week.

  And since I can't fuck her out of her snit because she just gave birth to my son, I think it best to leave that shit alone. For now, I just gave
her a look to let her know that I wasn't buying her shit and focused my attention back on my son before his mother drove me up the damn wall.

  When I looked up again Brand was still to the side whispering to his girl with his kid in his arms; Creed was rubbing his wife's very pregnant tummy, Ginger-Lee was giving Clay the stink eye while Travis and Kyle were trying to make time with their women.

  You wouldn't think that we were all waiting for a phone call that could lead to us shedding blood in the next few hours. I hefted my son onto my shoulder and headed to the kitchen for something to nibble on. Gotta remember to tell the sheep not to cook anymore, or I'll starve to death.

  Lyon

  I'm anxious to get back home, but there's no way I can leave now with Law's pigeon in the area. After all the shit he's done for me, no way am I leaving him to handle this shit alone no matter what his bitch ass says.

  He's not thinking straight because the shit's too close to home, but from everything I've learned, the asshole sheriff is just waiting for an excuse to take him down. One wrong move, and it'll be his ass, but does he hear me? Hardheaded ass!

  Creed and I have already decided, no matter how much he bitches, we're taking point on this one. This isn't our backyard, so who the fuck would be looking at us for it if we off this hump? His ass better get dead soon because people got shit to do.

  I just have to figure out a way to do this shit while Law is somewhere with a whole lotta eyes on him. That way, no matter who says what, they can't pin this shit on him. That shouldn't be too hard to do, not with all the hands I can call on to help.

  I've already made a call back home to make sure my family was doing okay. I'd left some men on them, of course, but I can never get too relaxed when I'm away from my little ones. Of course, I've come to trust that if some shit went south, Hitler's youth would call me with her shit.