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I look up as Thomas comes in and the bastard is grinning like he doesn’t even give a fuck he kept us waiting. Shit. I may have to hit him before this damn meeting is over. He looks around the room and I can literally see him examining everything in here. I grudgingly feel a bit of respect for that. His eyes move over the crowd, and I notice the way they linger on Sledge, who is in the corner being extremely quiet. Is Thomas picking up on the same warning bells I’m getting? I can’t accuse the man without proof, but he’s never liked me being in power and God knows we’ve butted heads often. If he hadn’t stepped down as VP one of us would probably be dead.
“Nice of you to finally drag your ass in here,” I mutter.
All eyes are on him, and a lesser man would get rid of that cocky look he’s wearing. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even blink. It would seem T-Boy has more grit than people have given him credit for.
“Had more important st-st-stuff to do.”
“You’re not a stranger to club life. The club always comes first,” I remind him. He sits his ass down, pushing King’s feet from the seat. Admittedly, King didn’t fight him, but still, it seems Thomas isn’t going to back down from anyone. After all, there are other empty chairs. He chose that one on purpose.
Interesting.
“N-not where I come from. C-Club is important, but family is f-first.”
“Bet your father wouldn’t agree,” King sneers.
“He w-would. B-but it wouldn’t m-matter. I’m my own m-man. Lyla comes first.”
“Too bad that wasn’t true when you pushed her aside for some other bitch,” King mutters under his breath.
“Were you there, m-m-motherfucker? Th-that’s n-not how it went down, and it doesn’t concern you. Q-quit worrying about what’s m-mine and handle your own sh-shit,” Thomas barks.
Despite the slowness of his speech, Thomas doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t stop staring at King, and he doesn’t look away. The room is getting restless and out of the corner of my eye I can see Craven sneer. Automatically my eyes go to Sledge to get a feel from him. He isn’t even looking at Thomas. He’s staring at Craven, and he looks like he wants to kill the man.
What the fuck is going on with my club and why didn’t I notice until someone shot up my house?
“You two handle your pissing match on your own time. We need to talk about some shit that Tweet uncovered.”
“What shit?” Thomas asks, but then again, he’s the only one in the room that doesn’t know what I’m about to say.
“Tweet uncovered inside information that the BMRR are making a play and they’re behind the ones that shot up my house,” I tell him, studying his face. The truth is, I want to see his reaction. The Blue Mountain Ridge Runners MC is a rival here in Virginia. They’ve never made an outright play against me or my club, but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t.
“Bullshit,” Thomas dismisses without me saying anything else.
“It’s good intel,” Tweet pipes up, shooting daggers with his eyes and they’re all directed at Thomas.
“No way,” Thomas responds resolute, not bothering to look at Tweet, which just pisses my man off more. Tweet is a big son of a bitch, more beer belly than muscle, but still he could probably intimidate any motherfucker. Yet, apparently not Thomas West. Fuck, I’m starting to like the asshole. This is getting complicated.
“Why do you say it’s bullshit?” I ask, truly wanting his take on it all.
“I know D-dagger and his men. That’s n-not how they operate.”
“Maybe not if you’re in alliance with them, but a rival?” I shrug, leaving the rest unsaid.
“Dagger d-d-doesn’t give a fuck. You stay out of his t-t-terri-t-t-tory and he’s fine. He’s not looking for m-more than what he has. You’d know that if you t-t-talked t-t-to him.”
“Hey, idiot. We run a tight club here, not like your old man’s. I realize you probably don’t know shit about this life. You probably coasted in the club because your daddy is the president. That’s not how we roll. We all know the score here. The Blue Mountain Ridge Runners MC are against our lines. Of course, we’ve talked to them,” King counters.
Thomas turns and looks at him and the boy grins like he’s enjoying himself. Fuck, I really do like the kid. Shit.
“Y-you c-can hate me. I could care less. D-doesn’t matter.”
“Thanks for your permission, asshole.”
“W-won’t change that I have what you w-want and that you’re wrong about Dagger and his b-boys.”
“What could you possibly have that I want, T-Boy?” King growls, although his voice is cold as steel. I should probably calm him down because I’m about the only son of a bitch in here that knows exactly why King hates Thomas. I don’t, mostly because King needs to let go of his anger and move on, but I also want to see how Thomas reacts.
