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She picked up her phone, typed a message and put it down before picking up her fork. “Your eggs are way fluffier than mine. What did you add?”

“Salt and pepper. I just cooked them on a lower heat so they get fluffy as they cook instead of flat.”

The bedroom door opened down the hall and Lasso’s heavy footsteps sounded on the floor. “Somebody said breakfast?”

“Have a seat. Look at all this food Vivi made for us! The baby is super happy!” Rocky even did a little dance as she ate, wiggling her hips with each bite.

“Thanks. You didn’t poison mine did you?”

“I didn’t have time to pack it on such short notice.”

He stared at me and then burst out laughing. “Yeah, you’re exactly what a serious dude like Jag needs.”

“I’m not what a

nybody needs.” I stabbed my eggs and ignored the stares between him and Rocky. “We used to be friends, that’s it.”

“Bullshit. But you’re scared, I get it. I was too, that’s why I married my baby before she could run away. Didn’t fall for her until later.”

Rocky frowned. “I thought you said you fell in love with me in San Diego?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Of course I did, babe. But later, when we were running for our lives that love changed. Grew up. Matured. My point, Vivi, is that you should be scared. Love is serious business.”

“Who the hell said anything about love?” I stood and got more coffee. “Just because you’re all coupled up and happy doesn’t mean everyone is headed that way. I have work to do.” With that, I stormed into the guest room feeling like a fucking child.

A petulant child.

Chapter Seventeen

Jag

The ride up to Tahoe had been uneventful and the transaction with our weapons guy was just how I liked these things to go, quick and easy. There was no drama, no changing of terms and no attempts at bullshit. He got our money and we got our guns loaded up in the van and were on our way in less than an hour.

But Cross wanted to talk strategy so we stopped for dinner at an all-night diner somewhere in Reno instead of driving straight back. I could admit that I was eager to get back to Vivi because I wanted to see her and no other reason, which made me sound like a fucking lovesick teenager.

“So we know what our options are,” Cross began when the adolescent waitress brought our burgers and fries. “The question is, do we want war?”

Savior snorted. “Sorry Prez but the question isn’t do we want it, it’s can we afford it? We have businesses to worry about, women and some of us have families to think about, too. We’re not kids anymore, Cross.”

The expression that flashed on Cross’s face was deadly, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared. “Yeah, that’s how time works, Savior. But this is about the club, not what we all have to lose personally.” It was a shitty thing that people didn’t want to hear, but Cross was the President and it was his job to think about the club. Not just our club but the whole Reckless Bastards Organization, which would all be threatened by war.

“I hear ya, but the facts are facts.” Savior, once the biggest dog of all of us, had softened when he’d fallen for a fallen brother’s younger sister. “I’ll do what I have to do but we need to make sure this is the best option.”

“I agree with Savior,” Max said. His deep gruff voice always sounded a little rusty because he was so damn quiet. “Do we have any other options?”

We had a few options but before we could discuss them any further, a table full of frat boys settled in next to us. It was one thing to discuss club business inside a public, but deserted, restaurant but it was unheard of to do it where anyone might overhear. Especially this kind of information.

“I could use a smoke,” Savior said. The rest of us got up from the table with him, dropping a few bills on the table before we filed out. By the time we caught up with him, Savior had a half finished cigarette hanging between his lips. “Come on, Jag. Let’s hear it.”

“Cross could slip these photos to the Roadkill Prez and let them deal with him.”

“But we run the risk that they already know what he’s doing to cover their asses and we tip our hand,” Max said, shocking the shit out of all of us. Not with his idea but with his use of all the words.

“Exactly,” I told him. “Though that’s unlikely since the meetings and communication have all been clandestine. Or we can prod them into doing some shit the feds won’t be able to ignore. Get rid of them for good.” That was my preference but Vivi’s shimmering gray eyes kept playing behind in my mind. The tortured sound of her voice as she talked about the costs of war stayed with me. Maybe it would be better to let Roadkill handle their own shit.

“I suppose you have a plan for that?” Cross sounded more amused than annoyed but there was definitely some annoyance there.

“Not yet but give me a few days and I might.” A short nod was about as good as it would get from Cross right now and I didn’t need his validation. Not on this.

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