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I slip on my cut, light a smoke, and grab my phone. Before I can call my mom to see how she's doing, it rings in my hand. “Yeah,” I answer.
“Get to Souls, we need to talk,” Brooks demands and hangs up.
I get to the club and walk in. The place is covered in sleeping bodies. Some dressed, some not. It smells like stale cigarettes, beer, and pussy. Just a usual Sunday morning.
I walk into the room that all decisions are made. Brooks is sitting at the head of the table waiting for me. I light a cigarette and sit down. “What’s going on?”
“I heard you were up close and personal with Harper Kingsley.” He leans back in his chair and I know he’s waiting to see if I’m going to give him some line of bullshit.
“Yeah, and?” I retort, taking a long drag of my smoke.
“Cut the shit, Z,” he says, clearly losing the little patience he has for me.
I smash out my cigarette and run my hands through my hair. “Brooks, it’s not your concern.”
He laughs a manic laugh and leans closer to me. “Everything that happens in my club is my concern.”
“When it comes to our club, yeah it does. This, what you’re talking about, has nothing to do with you or this club.”
“That pussy is clouding your vision,” he hisses.
The urge to reach over and rip his black heart out of his chest is overwhelming. Instead, I lean back in my chair and grin. “You’re always so worried about my dick. Is it jealousy or do you want it?”
He stands up so quickly the chair smashes to the floor. He grabs me by the collar of my shirt and just before his fist connects with my face, Enzo rushes in.
“What the fuck is going on?” he yells, taking in the scene.
Brooks releases me and I straighten my shirt. “All good VP,” I state, never looking away from Brooks.
“Give us a minute,” Brooks says.
“Fucking hell,” he grumbles and walks out.
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Z. That’s not why I called you here. I think you and Harper are a good idea,” he says, lighting a smoke.
My uncle has never once wanted to do anything in my favor. Especially not something that could possibly make me happy. He’s fucking lying. “Bullshit.”
“No bullshit, Zane. I want you with Harper. I want you two as close as you used to be,” he says with a full smile.
He wants us together. He wants us close. As soon as I think it through, it hits me. “Oh fuck no.”
“Yes,” he simply says.
“I’m not going to put her in danger for you or anyone. I refuse to do it.” He’s lost his goddamn mind.
“Z, this is our way in. The only way in. You get close, she lets her guard down, and starts spilling secrets. We can finally get Kingsley out of here and take back what’s ours.”
I shake my head and scrub my face. He’s right. I fucking hate it, but he is. This would be the only way in. The only real way in. The fallout of it all, though, shit. Kingsley will kill Harper while I watch and then kill me. It’s a fucking horrible plan.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to even convince her to talk to me, never mind do all that,” I say, meaning
every word. She’s not going to fall into my arms, grateful I want to start shit up again. She’s gonna fight it. Even if I do get her back into my bed, the odds of her telling me anything about her club, it’s about the same odds as me telling her.
Brooks gets up and slaps me on the back. “You’re always talking about how great your dick is. You’ll get her in bed and you’ll get her talking.”
“This isn’t going to happen overnight,” I say, blowing out a sigh.
“Don’t expect it to. We’ll lay low, make him think we’ve backed off. When he least expects it, we’ll make our move.”
