Page 67 of Riding Bare

“Protect my woman, start a war, burn him to the ground. Maybe we can get by without the war stuff. But I’m ready for it, if it needs to happen. I hope it won’t come to that,” I state.

“But be prepared,” Wrath states.

“Exactly.”

We stare at one another in silence, passing a look that only we could ever begin to understand. Then he takes a step toward me, and another, until he’s standing in front of my desk. He places his palm on the wood, his focus on me and only me, and dips his chin slightly, his focus unwavering.

“I always have your back,” he announces. “We need to make sure that our women are protected.”

“Agreed,” I state. “Let’s get the plan locked down, and then we put the women on lockdown until it’s executed and we know what retaliation is going to look like.”

“You know Rustik best,” he says. “What does retaliation look like with him?”

He stands up straight, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches me, waiting for my response. “I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t have a fucking clue. It’s anyone’s fucking guess, and I mean that shit.”

“Great,” he grunts.

“Agreed. So what we do is protect our own and prepare. If he can’t understand why I’ve done what I’ve done, then he’s not a man I want to be associated with.”

The door flies open, and we both swing our attention to the man standing in the doorway. It’s Speed. Jerking my chin, I arch a brow as I wait for him to say whatever the fuck he thought he could interrupt my meeting to say.

“I talked to Hippie. He was telling me about the weapons and shit. I kind of put it together. I don’t think locking him inside a building is the way to do it,” he announces.

I wave him inside the office. “What do you suggest?”

Speed is a brother of the club. He isn’t an officer, but he’s smart as fuck. He pays attention, and he’s in the trenches as far as working for the club goes, so he probably knows a little more about the Russians than I do. He’s got his ear to the ground.

“Make it loud. Make it visible. They need to know who has the bigger balls. They’ll respect it.”

I slide my tongue across my bottom lip as I think about the repercussions of that. Even if they respect it—respect us—that doesn’t mean they’ll allow us to walk away scot-free. “They’ll respect it, but will they retaliate?”

Speed shrugs a shoulder. “Price we’re willing to pay and all that, or maybe…”

His words trail off, and I think about this, maybe because something pops into my head, and now I’m thinking of a whole different idea. Going in a whole different direction.

“What if Rustik finds out Samuil plans on betraying him?” Speed asks.

“And how do we find that out?” Wrath asks.

Speed shrugs a shoulder, his focus shifting between us, as if he’s waiting for one of us to have the answer. Honest to fuck, if I had that answer, I’d have gone with that shit first instead of burning him alive, although I would absolutely love to watch that asshole burn, so maybe this actually is the only idea I like.

“I still like the idea that he burns, and then we tell Rustik about his betrayal.”

Speed chuckles. “Sick. I’m fucking here for it. Let me see what I can dig up. A bastard like that leaves a trail. When do you plan on burning him?”

I love that Speed is here for it. I fucking love it. “Next week,” I state. “You think you can get some intel by then?”

“I’m on it.” He stands and is out of the office before I can even say another word. Wrath chuckles from across the desk. Flicking my attention back to him, I smirk at the sight of him laughing.

“Acts like he’s twenty, not forty,” he mutters. He does. Truly. “I’m heading home to my woman. She’s not going to like lockdown,” he states.

“You gonna give her a tail for her workdays?”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Not real lockdown, then, I guess.”

Placing my palms on the desk, I push myself up to stand. “I’m going home to my woman, too. I haven’t heard from Gauge or her all day. I can only assume they’re spending the day playing cards or whatever they do, talking shit, whatever.”

“Regroup tomorrow, and we’ll meet first thing, say ten?” Wrath asks.