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I spent the day with Harlyn until around 3:00 p.m. when she crashed out on the sofa in my room while we were watching a movie.
Harlyn was smart.
I knew I’d have to watch what I said and did around her because she picked up on everything, even the moods of the people around her.
There was a sharp banging on my bedroom door. I shuffled Har so she was now laying down across the sofa instead of propped up against me, and quickly moved to answer before they started banging again and woke her up.
Ham stood there, his foot tapping. “Prez, we need you outside now.”
It was the first time I’d seen him look nervous, even through all the hazing and shit the boys had thrown at him. “What’s going on?”
“Coupla big Italian guys in suits are waiting at the gate to speak with you. Blizzard’s already heading out there.”
Fuck.
“Find Sugar, tell her to go to my room and wait with Harlyn,” I said as I pushed past him and jogged down the hallway.
I was curious to hear what these guys had to say. They hadn’t come in guns-a-blazing and that for me was suspicious to begin with.
Blizz met me at the door and I made sure I had my pistol tucked in the back of my pants.
“Prospect!” I called into the room behind me. Neil popped up from behind the bar with bottles tucked under his arms and in his hands, obviously restocking. “Round up all the girls and tell them to go to their rooms and stay there until a club member comes to get them.”
“Yes, Prez,” he called followed by clanging bottles and heavy footsteps.
“This could turn to shit very quickly,” Blizzard said as we marched toward the front gates of the compound.
“Honestly, how much more to shit could things get at this point?” I said dryly.
“Bullet-between-the-eyes shit?”
“Did you text, Kev?”
“Yeah, he’s on his way up there.”
There were some large industrial buildings that were spotted around the edges of the compound. We had sensors in them so we’d know if anyone was in them watching us, but they provided the perfect vantage point for our men if anything like this were to happen.
I stepped through the small opening of the gate.
Slider and Wrench stood stoic on the other side, staring down the sharply dressed men who stood next to a large Mercedes. Our third prospect stood just behind them, trying to imitate their stance, but it was quite clear that his hands were shaking.
“What can I do for you?” I asked sharply as I stepped in front of my men, Blizzard right at my side as always.
One of the men stepped forward but didn’t answer. His hair was dark and slicked back and his dark shades hid his eyes. He stared at me for a moment before reaching out for the door handle of the car. The man that climbed out was so cliché that if I didn’t know how deadly he was, I would have almost laughed. He had a black turtle neck shirt underneath a dark gray suit that was perfectly creased. A light black shadow shaded his jaw and around his mouth were specks of gray that matched the color of his hair.
He took a deep toke of the cigar that hung between his fingers before flicking it at my feet as he exhaled. I watched it bounce on the asphalt, the smoke soon reaching my nose and causing me to screw up my face.
“You are Optimus?” His Italian accent was thick to the point where I wondered if he actually spoke fluent English.
I broadened my stance slightly and folded my arms across my chest. “I am, and you are?”
He nodded. “Anthony DePalma.”
“What can I do for you?”
He shot me a dark smile. “I am looking for my son, Kenneth DePalma.”
I scratched at my chin with my hand. “Sorry, don’t know anyone by the name Kenneth.”
