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“Gemma literally works at the garage,” Tools interrupted.

“Thank you for that, brother. I’m so glad you’re on my side here. As I was saying—”

“And she caught you wiping off your bar tab.”

“And ordering yourself a new bike,” Doc added on.

“And beard kits,” Greg added. “Not that a beard kit will help with that monstrosity.”

“Why are you piping up for? You know, these meetings are starting to feel like a gang up on Vienna session. I think we need to revisit that whole spiritual retreat thing I mentioned—”

“No!” the whole table practically roared at me.

“I’d be up for a spiritual retreat,” Divorce mumbled.

“Well, well, well, would you look at this,” I grinned. “The newest member of the club, but the most fucking loyal. Thank you very much, Dolly. You book it, I’ll attend it.”

“Chris, you’re the treasurer,” Dante announced. “I can’t be dealing with you fuckheads any longer.”

“Err, boss,” I murmured, leaning closer to him. “Trouble in lovers’ paradise. You sure this is wise?”

“I’m sure two grown men can put their differences aside for the sake of the club, right, brothers?” Dante asked, raising his voice at the two of them. They nodded sulkily, and he banged the gavel, finalising his words.

“Perfect. So, now for matters outside the club, and you all know what’s coming.”

“The Rough Riders?” Sunshine asked, his voice as gravelly as ever.

“The Rough Riders,” Dante nodded. “As you all know, there was a tentative agreement in place after Nico took over. Neither of us wanted to go back to the war we had when Crash was in charge. But Nico hasn’t been following the terms of the agreement. There have been drugs sold on Devil’s territory, prostitution taking place on the streets rather than one of the safe houses we set up for the women. And then there’s the matter of Gabriella—”

At the mention of her name, several members of the gang sat up straighter. I forced my face to remain neutral, not wanting to give anything away.

“I still don’t see why we’re bothering with her safety,” Tools snapped. I can’t say I blamed him. He had been there that night. He was a first-hand witness to what she did.

“We did it for our brother. It doesn’t matter what happened previously, she did—”

“What?” Tools demanded. “What did she do?”

“Rachel murdered her brother right in front of her, and she didn’t shoot back. She fired to the left, saving us both, and then allowed us to walk away free. She could have killed us both there and then,” I said, keeping my voice calm.

“So she did one good deed, and that cancels out what she did, am I hearing this right? When are we going to acknowledge that you’re still hung up on her?”

“Careful,” I warned, keeping my voice low. “You’re toeing the line between concern and disrespect.”

“As opposed to the complete disrespect she showed you when—”

“It doesn’t matter what she did back then!” Dante snapped, taking control of the situation. He looked at me briefly, but when he saw nothing on my face, he continued. “Those of us who were there that night remember all too well. But Vienna has forgiven, and he has chosen to place her under his protection. As ourbrother, and your VP, might I add, it is our duty to protect her as well. Agreed?” Dante looked around the table. “Agreed?” he said more forcefully, earning himself dutiful murmurs of agreement in return.

“So we need to think about what we’re doing in response. Regardless of your personal feelings—which shouldn’t be interfering with club business—there is a woman who might need our protection. Let that be your focus, and not your feelings towards said woman.”

They began discussing strategies then. How we might get word to Gabriella, how we would announce the truce was over, and how we could gain control of the situation.

I was only half listening. I was too busy thinking on everything that had been said. They were right. Gabbyhadbetrayed me. And she had done so in front of all my brothers. There was no forgetting that, and no coming back from it. They had made that perfectly clear.

But Tools was wrong.

They all were.

Because that hadn’t always been the case. There had been a time—before the clubs, before the lines were drawn—when she’d chosen me.