Page 30 of Triplets for the Rival MC

“We’re fine, thank you,” I snap curtly.

Hunter chuckles lightly behind me, amused by my possessiveness. The woman’s eyes glower up at me, silently saying, ‘I didn’t ask you’. The sudden desire to either claw her eyes out for flirting with my man or to grab Flint and show her he’s mine floods me, and I have to force myself to behave rationally. Thankfully, before it can turn into a full-blown cat fight, the building manager arrives.

“Mr. Flint and your associates, welcome,” she announces, heels clacking on the marble floor as she approaches. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Shall we?” She gestures toward the elevator, no doubt keen to quickly get us all out of the reception area where we’re attracting more than a few curious gazes.

“Not a problem. Please, lead the way,” Flint says, motioning for her to lead.

I’m grateful that he doesn’t acknowledge the receptionist’s hopeful gaze. I can’t stop myself from giving her a thin, victorious smirk as she deflates. She was no doubt hopeful he’d return her flirtation and fulfill whatever Fifty Shades fantasy she was imagining would happen.

The building manager ushers us into the conference room as quickly as she can, no doubt worried about the attention our presence is gathering. Hank looks especially out of place, his giant frame seeming even bigger in the small office chairs around the conference table. After showing us where the refreshments are in the corner of the room, the manager quickly scuttles away.

“Remind me again why we couldn’t do this at the clubhouse?” Smoke grumbles, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt and tapping his fingers on the desk.

“Because we’ve had intel that there could be a spy within the Ghost Riders, feeding intel back to the Raging Bulls,” Flint explains, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice.

Screw glances over at me pointedly. He doesn’t voice what he’s thinking, but his thoughts are clear. I’m King’s daughter and therefore the most likely suspect.

“Don’t fucking look at her like that,” Hunter snarls.

“Like what? I can’t be the only person who’s thinking that the most likely spy is the person who also happens to be the enemy’s fucking daughter. What’s the bitch even doing here?”

Hunter jumps from his seat, toppling the chair backward behind him as he lunges across the table for Screw. Screw jumps up, ready to fight, knocking a glass of water over. Cyrus grabs Hunter, holding him back, and Hank does the same to Screw.

“Fucking say that again and I’ll kill you,” Hunter snarls.

Flint holds up his hand to silence them, still sitting calmly at the head of the table. “Enough.” The pair glower at each other across the table, neither one backing down. “Sit the fuck down,” Flint barks. Reluctantly, they do. When everyone is back in their seats and a little calmer, Flint speaks again, his voice firm and commanding.

“Screw, I understand your concern. We had similar reservations to begin with. However, Tori was brought to the club by us, and she has more than proven her loyalty to the Ghost Riders and her hatred of the Raging Bulls. She’s been instrumental in our progress so far, and she belongs here. Understood?” He stares at Screw, gray eyes narrowed, waiting for confirmation.

Screw clenches his jaw but nods, a quick, sharp movement. “Understood.”

“Now, apologize to Tori.”

Screw almost looks as if he’s going to argue the point, but Flint gives him such a cold stare that he decides better of it. “Sorry, Tori,” he mumbles.

“That’s okay,” I mumble, not wanting to be the cause of any tension among the Ghost Riders. Cyrus squeezes my hand comfortingly under the table.

Flint studies me for a moment, making sure I am okay, before swiftly moving the meeting along. I don’t join in much, feeling too cowed and upset from Screw’s outburst.

Hunter looks at me with concern and fierce protectiveness. “You okay?” he mouths.

I nod, to my mortification, feeling tears springing at the corners of my eyes. I will them away and nod, smiling at Hunter to reassure him. “Thank you,” I mouth back.

The meeting continues, the outburst forgotten, and eventually, I find my voice again, offering helpful insights and intel. We discuss our plan for the biggest raid yet, the one that counts the most. I overheard a while back about a new business deal my father and Spike made, and it makes me sick to my stomach. In just a few days, the Raging Bulls will be helping a notorious criminal gang smuggle women into the country to sell them as slaves.

We’re all in agreement that, although the mission is dangerous, it isn’t something we can sit back and allow to happen. The guys are unanimous in their decision to help. It’s one of the reasons I love them, their compassion and willingness to help those who need it most, to protect those weaker than them, rather than to use that weakness for their own gain, as my father does.

To my irritation, the one thing they won’t budge on is my involvement. They downright refuse to let me come along, saying it’s much too dangerous and I could fall back into the Raging Bulls’ hands. After a long debate, they win, and I agree to stay at the clubhouse with the other women and kids.

After they finalize the plans for the raid, talk returns to the plan to humiliate my father in front of his men.

“Why don’t we orchestrate him finding out that I’m in a relationship with Flint, Hunter, and Cyrus?” I suggest.

Screw almost chokes at that. I see the looks that Flint, Hunter, and Cyrus exchange. I thought everyone at the clubhouse knew what our setup was. Maybe not.

“That’s hardly something you could prove wasn’t just a rumor, unless you sent him a sex tape,” Hank says jokingly.

“We could do that. It would certainly do the trick,” I agree, shocked at myself for even suggesting it.