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Those last sentences were a firm latch on the door of this conversation at least, so Duncan didn’t try to say more.
Night Phoebe.
He set his phone face-down on the cheap bedspread of this kitschy motel and stared at the popcorn ceiling.
She’d locked the door, but maybe she’d left a window open.
Now he had to figure out if he wanted to go through it.
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~oOo~
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“If you don’t lay off with that bullshit, Eight, I swear to fuck—”
“You’ll WHAT?” Eight charged at Cooper and went face to snarling face with him. “What are you gonna do, motherfucker?” he growled, pushing with his chest.
Cooper pushed right back. “I don’t even have to break a fucking sweat. I’ll destroy your gimpy leg with one kick and make you cry like a goddamn baby.”
“ENOUGH!” Duncan’s father shoved himself between them. As he grabbed Eight by the kutte and forced him backward, Zach grabbed his president and dragged him back as well.
The entire Brazen Bulls MC, both charters, stood in the Nevada clubhouse, watching their presidents try to tear each other apart—and with them, the club itself.
“This has got to fucking stop!” Simon yelled. Duncan nearly flinched; Simon was not a shouter. It had the right effect, though. Everybody else was as surprised as Duncan, so Simon got even Eight and Cooper’s attention.
With it, Simon continued, “This shit between you is fuckin’ stupid, and it’s going to get us all killed. We’re riding out tomorrow toward what might be a goddamn war.”
Speaking directly to Eight Ball, whom he still had by the kutte, Dad said, “He’s right. You have got to get right with each other tonight. I’d say get in the ring and fight it out, but you two will fucking kill each other, and we can’t afford to lose the manpower.”
At that, Kai laughed, but Duncan didn’t think his dad had been trying to make a joke. Everybody was sick to death of the beef between Eight and Cooper, but maybe nobody was as sick of it as Dad was. On a few occasions, lubricated with some booze, and swearing Duncan to secrecy, he’d opened up and talked about how half of his job as VP was being the leash that kept Eight in line.
Dad gave Eight a hard shove. “Sit the fuck down, Eight.” He whipped around. “I know it’s your house, Coop, but you park your ass, too.”
Zach, Cooper’s VP, helped him do just that.
“Holy shit,” Jay muttered at Duncan’s side. “Are Mom and Dad gonna get divorced?”
Duncan turned a frown on him. “Don’t joke, bruh. This shit’s fucked up. Simon and my dad are right. They’re gonna get us all killed. Even if they don’t, they could break the club apart.”
“Maybe I’m joking,” Jay answered, “but only halfway. Yeah, these assholes are gonna fuck us up one way or another.”
“This looks like a damn intervention now,” Monty said.
“My dad is fucking sick of it, too,” Sam said, “I think he and some of the others’ve been talking out what to do. Maybe this is it.”
Simon, Sam’s father, had stepped up again. “You two need to talk to each other without throwing blame around,” he said.
Eight’s frown made his face look like wadded paper. “There is fuckin’ blame to throw around. Laughlin nearly fucked us all into the ground in the fall.” He turned that look directly on Cooper. “You had a fuckin’ spy in your house! Gun’s in a fuckin’ chair for the rest of his life because of it. How is that not your fuckin’ fault?”
“We vetted Jordan completely,” Kai, their tech and intel officer, said before Cooper could answer. “It’s not like we threw open the doors and took whoever walked in. When we made him prospect, he was clean. Harridan flipped him, he didn’t install him. You wouldn’t’ve seen him coming, either.”
“I was a Tulsa patch for a long time,” Cooper said—to Simon, not to Eight. “The mother charter’s had its share of mistakes. I know the story about a patch killing the first VP right in the middle of the party room. How’d that happen? What got missed there?” Simon reacted to that question in a way Duncan couldn’t quite read, but he didn’t answer.
Cooper turned to Eight. “Or how about—why’d you do time, Eight? That was before my day, but it was still fresh enough when I got there that I know the deets. You were a righteous fuckup back in the day, weren’t you? Like I’ve never been.”
Dad had to hold Eight in his seat.
