Page 49 of Riding Bare

“What the fuck are we going to do about this shit?” I ask.

Wrath’s lips twitch into a smirk before he speaks. “Brother,” he begins, chuckling before he stops himself and then lets out a grunt. “You’re going to get us tangled up in a war,” he states.

I know I am. I should feel bad about that, but I’m not sure how much of a shit I give. I’m under no illusion that I won’t. And as much as I don’t want to, I have a feeling it’s inevitable.

Guilt instantly consumes me at my own thoughts. I’m not sure how I would feel if my men died because of this shit. Granted, they’ve died for less, but I can’t imagine them dying for this, for a cause they didn’t choose.

For something that I started with no real payout to them.

Yes, Samuil was trying to fuck over the Iron Flame MC, but not me personally, and not even this goddamn chapter. If I kill him without cause, that fucks over my relationship with the Bratva, but at the same time, I’m not sure I give a fuck.

It probably starts a war, too, but again—no fucks given.

“I’m feeling very much like throwing caution to the goddamn wind,” I state. “And I know I shouldn’t be. I carry a lot of lives in my hands.”

“Yeah,” Wrath mutters.

“I can’t take this kind of stand when so many lives are at risk,” I say.

Wrath smirks, and I wonder why he finds this so funny. Probably because I’m in love and ready to go to war over it. He faces me before he leans back against the wall. I watch as he folds his arms over his chest, dipping his chin slightly, and then connects his gaze with my own.

“No, you really can’t,” he states. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t be at your back if that’s what you decide to do.”

“Yeah?” I ask. “How do I ask anyone to be at my back when I’m going rogue? Starting a war is fucking crazy. I couldn’t fucking do that.”

Wrath smirks.

He doesn’t respond with words, but the expression he wears is more than I ever need expressed. “Brother,” he begins, “we’re at your back, rogue, wrong, or right. Doesn’t fucking matter. If a war is what you need, then that’s what we’ll fucking do.”

“We do this, we fuck up our cash flow, and I can’t be part of that. Rustik has done nothing, and he’s given us a really fucking sweet deal. The last thing I want to do is ruin that for everyone else. We got babies on the way.”

Wrath winces, because he knows the goddam truth of it all just like me. We got families, homes, and babies. No way in fuck can we bypass a steady paycheck, and that’s exactly what the deal with Rustik is—a steady paycheck.

“The alternative being we wait for him to come after Chassis and the kid?” he asks.

“Which is why I’m not fucking good.”

Wrath hums. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I get it. We got shit going on, but, brother,” he murmurs, “your woman is fucking important, and so is her baby. She’s your old lady, your wife, and the mother of your child.”

My child.

Wrath knows the truth, but I really fucking like him referring to the baby as mine. The only kid I’ll probably have. I will never let any goddamn fucker touch him. Not ever. Wrath is right. He’s mine. My son. I’ll kill for him with the same hands I’d kill for Chassis with.

“Maybe you have a meet with just Rustik, me, and the Russian?”

“I’ve already had one with Rustik,” I mutter.

“Yeah, well, we want shit to be perfectly clear, and the Russian needs to know just how serious you are.”

He does. I’m just not sure if I want him to know I’ve been thinking about this, about him. I don’t want to give him that kind of power. I’m going to have to think about it. I press my lips together, rolling them a few times when Wrath walks over to my desk. He taps on it with his index finger, then tilts his head toward the office door.

“Let’s cuss and discuss over some beers.”

“And shots,” I add.

“And shots.”

CHAPTER