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“They still don’t know who did this to him?” She glances up, her gaze swinging between Rock and me.
I shake my head. “We’re doing everything we can to find whoever did it.”
Sway chuckles. “List’s gotta be a mile long.”
“It was club-related, though?” Stella asks, drilling me with cold, accusatory eyes.
Without flinching or blinking, I meet her stare. “You got some information we should know about?”
“No. I…nothing.” She thrusts her chin up. “I want to make sure he’s safe now.”
Oh, please.
“That’s why we got brothers here taking shifts twenty-four hours a day,” Rock answers.
“What if it was a brother?” she insists.
Rock stands but doesn’t move any closer to her. “That’s a serious accusation. You got a good reason for saying it?”
He didn’t raise his voice, but Rock’s size alone is enough to intimidate anyone. Stella wisely backs up a few inches. I stand and Sway opens his eyes.
“Easy,” Sway says to both of us. “She don’t know any better.”
I understand what makes Stella tick well enough to know a comment like that would normally piss her off, but she shrugs. “I thought maybe that was why you brought Z down here instead of promoting Shadow.” She jerks her chin at my cut. “On the other hand, it looks like Sway getting shot earned you a promotion.”
Little bitch.
“Hey.” Sway jerks her hand to get her attention. “Watch that mouth of yours. Z’s doing what he was asked to do. It’s not your concern.”
Christ if she really thinks I had something to do with Sway’s shooting, she never knew me at all. Unless she’s hopeful I’m here because I want her back. Both options make me want to vomit. “Why I’m here isn’t any of your business.”
“Give us a minute,” Sway says.
I stare Stella down until she looks away. “Yeah, all right. I’ll check in on you later, Sway.”
Outside the room, Rock turns and glares at me. “The fuck is wrong with her?”
“We haven’t talked in weeks.”
“Watch your back. Especially if she’s visiting the clubhouse.”
“Christ, I hope she’s not gonna be over there. That’s the last damn thing I need.”
“Well, Prez,” his voice drips with sarcasm, “that’s your call to make, now isn’t it?”
Banning Stella from the clubhouse probably won’t help the business relationship she has with the club. But it’s a tempting thought. “Well, gee.” I widen my eyes and pat my chest. “What do ya know? You’re right.”
He cracks a hint of a smile. “Fuckface.”
“You love my fuckface.”
“I do. That’s why I don’t want anyone talking shit about you.”
“Appreciate that.” I glance at the closed door. “I’d like to say she didn’t mean anything, but I’m not so sure.”
“Come on.” He cocks his head toward the waiting room.
Shadow stands and smirks at us. “Stella in there giving him a happy ending?”
Ignoring him, I address the other guys. “Who’s staying tonight? We need to sit down and I want to know who we’ll be missing.”
Two of the younger brothers raise their hands. “We’ll stay.”
“Keep me informed. I want to know if anyone unusual shows up.”
Shadow squints at me. “What’s unusual?”
After last night, this clown shouldn’t be giving me lip. “Anyone not wearing a LOKI cut. That clear enough for ya?”
He gives me a fake-ass salute and drops down into his chair. “Yeah, Prez.”
Rock remains quiet but sticks by my side through the whole exchange. After a quick goodbye to everyone, we head outside.
“Shadow’s attitude seems to have shifted awfully quick,” Rock says when we get to our bikes. “Where’s all his brotherly concern and cooperation?”
“I can’t tell if he’s embarrassed about what went down last night or what. Is it too much to hope I can contain his attitude long enough to punt it back to Sway and let it be his problem?”
Rock stops and rests his hand on my shoulder. “Be honest, Angus. You think he’s gonna be able to take the gavel again anytime soon?”
“That’s always been the plan.”
Rock swallows hard and moves in closer. “As much as I don’t want to lose you, you’re a damn fine president.”
“You seem to forget I got your son shot last night,” I whisper.
He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “We both know that’s not on you.”
“Still not feeling good about it.”
“And that’s why you’re a good president. Always knew you would be.” He blows out a breath and looks away for a second. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to come back if you’d rather run your own club.”
If it wasn’t obvious how much Rock’s struggling, I’d punch him for suggesting I’d ever want to abandon my family.
“I’m not happy down here, Rock. And I don’t know how I feel about wearing the big P. How the hell have you done it for so long?”
He ignores my attempt to lighten things up. “Everything’s up in the air right now. Once you settle in—”
“You’re not hearing me, Rock. I don’t want to settle in. I’m settled in at home. Upstate.” Jesus, I’m not a wordsmith. Don’t usually have a reason to be. How do I explain without sounding like a lazy fucker? “Upstate is home. I helped build that club with you.”
“Yes, you did.”
I hold out my hands and turn them over. “You, me, Wrath, Teller, Murphy, Dex, Sparky, we all took down the old one and built up what we have now together.”
“We did.”
“This isn’t a lack of ambition talking, Rock. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished. That’s home to me.” Christ, who am I? Dorothy trying to leave Oz and get back to Kansas?
He glances around the parking lot. “You have an opportunity to do the same thing here.”
“Except for Shadow, I might be able to win them over, but it’s never gonna be the same. They’re listening to me now because they have no choice. And maybe out of respect for Sway. Besides, you think that hardass motherfucker’s ever gonna fully retire willingly?”
Rock snorts. “Probably not.”
“He’d be a thorn in my ass. Undermining me at every turn. We both know his whole reflective-I-should’ve-been-there-for-my-kids redemption bullshit has an expiration date.”
Now he full-out laughs.
“Besides, you need me there to counterbalance Wrath.” I slap his shoulder. “Admit it, you two would’ve killed each other by now if it wasn’t for me.”
“You’re more than just an intermediary for us. You know that, right?”
“Fuck, yeah.” Something awful occurs to me and I try to make light of it. “You’re not realizing you like it better without me now, are ya, Prez?”
He pins me with a steely-eyed glare. “Not at all. Your presence is missed. By everyone. But I don’t ever want to hold you back, either.”
“You’re not. Trust me. I’m already feeling shitty enough about leaving you hanging at such an awkward time. I was trying to pick up some stuff so you had time with the baby—”
“Which I appreciate. But club always comes first. You know it and I know it.”
“Hope and Grace okay?”
“They’re fine.”
“Let’s try and do a family day or something so you can bring ‘em down. I bet Chance would love to see Grace.”
r /> Rock finally eases up and laughs. “Don’t go trying to set my daughter up already.”
“Why not? We can be fathers-in-law together. Maybe go fishing when we’re old. It’ll be great.”
He grins and shoves me sideways. “I don’t know about that. Heidi keeps joking about Alexa and Grace taking over the MC one day.”
I burst out laughing. “Hell, maybe they’ll do an even better job than us.” I pin him with a sharp stare. “We done with the spread-your-wings-and-fly-away-little-birdie pep talk?”
“For now. We both know it might not be up to us.”
That’s what worries me.
Chapter Twenty-One
Z
Rock and I head back to the clubhouse together.
Not so surprisingly, there’s a cop car waiting out front.
“Jesus Christ,” I grumble. “What now?”
I take my time backing my bike into its spot. Rock pulls up right in front of the clubhouse and walks over to meet me. “Go easy,” he warns.
In Empire, I don’t deal with the cops as much as Rock does. From time-to-time, I show my face. Hand over an envelope of cash or whatever. But most of my social skills are directed at maintaining relationships with other MCs.
Some outlaws prefer to be assholes to cops right off the bat. My way of thinking has always been they have a job to do and until it interferes with my club or my life, I leave them to it. Unless they’re disrespectful. Then all bets are off.
As far as I know, Sway’s relationship with the local cops is civil. Sway was never forthcoming with all the details, but a few years back, the state police had tried to infiltrate the club. They might still be a little bitter that didn’t work out and that their informants disappeared.
The locals, as far as I know, haven’t been a problem. Yet.
“Afternoon, officer,” I greet. He’s young. Twitchy. Has an attitude, a cocky head tilt, and smugness that rubs me wrong almost immediately.
“Well, two presidents for the price of one. Must be my lucky day.”
See, I knew he’d be a douche.
Rock remains silent at my side. This is my club to protect.
“If you’re lost,” I point toward the road, “the highway’s over there. Follow it on out to the big road and keep on going.” The tone I use is pretty similar to how I talk to the dogs.
