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“That’s what we hope to find out,” Rubble finished. His mismatched eyes kept her pinned to the chair. “We need you to help us.”
“Wh-what?”
“Shovelhead will come out of hiding for his daughter,” Reaper explained. “At least, we think he will chance it.”
She pushed away from the table. “He doesn’t even know I exist.”
Rubble smirked. “Even more reason to address the issue personally instead of sending a lackey. Shovelhead’s pride will be his downfall.”
Glancing at Brewer, she noticed his discomfort. “How long have you known he might be my father? Since we met?”
He met her gaze. “No. Only since you mentioned it.”
“That’s correct,” Reaper added.
Her hands shook for a new reason. Blaming Brewer wouldn’t do either of them any good. She had two options, but only one would be fruitful. Finding Shovelhead on her own wasn’t going well, and her ex now knew she was back in town. She had to trust Macha. She had no other choice if she wanted the truth. She looked at Brewer, but she knew she couldn’t trust him. He lied to her. They hadn’t known each other long, and he didn’t owe her anything, but the lie hurt nonetheless.
She took a deep breath. “I’m in. How do we get in touch with him?”
The man sitting next to Rubble with the name Boulder on his patch piped up. “We have a contact in the Cutthroat dollhouse. She’ll get the word out about Shovelhead’s kid looking for him. You’re a local, so he won’t suspect anything. You keep running your restaurant. Macha will look out for you, and Shovelhead will do the rest.”
Delphi nodded, but she hoped they’d repeat the plan ten more times because in that moment, she was barely listening. Her nerves were shot just from meeting the club—learning of her connection to Brewer sent her emotions into overdrive. “What if he comes to the bistro?”
“Brewer will be assigned to your protection detail until it’s all over with,” Reaper said.
“What?” both she and Brewer said at the same time.
“Prez, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Brewer said, pushing away from the table.
“Yeah, I agree.”
Reaper’s brows furrowed. “Why not? You two seemed chummy at dinner.”
“Yeah, but not in the way I hoped,” he explained, barely glancing over at Delphi. “Sweet cheeks here isn’t a fan of my method of employment and has made it abundantly clear.”
“You have a problem with Macha?” Boulder asked, his green eyes faded from years of club business.
“Uh, no. I mean, in a way, but nothing serious.” She chewed her bottom lip. She’d lose out on everything if she let her past club issues bleed through. “I don’t have an issue working with Macha on the Shovelhead thing.”
“Just the Brewer thing?” Rubble said, a smirk playing his lips. “Got it.” He met Brewer’s eyes, and it seemed as if a silent conversation was exchanged between them. “Fine, we’ll draw the security detail by lottery. It’ll give the boys a chance to get out of the club for a bit anyways. All this presidency shit is driving them nuts.”
Reaper looked from person to person before finally nodding once. “So be it. Delphi, Rubble and one of the boys will stop by tomorrow morning and get the details out of the way. Brewer can take you home tonight.”
Brewer’s previous statement had kept her hackles up. “No, that’s okay. I’ll take an Uber.”
Rubble stood up and chuckled. “I don’t think you heard right, Delphi,” he said, his eyes narrowing in a new way. “Brewer is taking you home. You’re under Macha protection. We don’t fuck around with that.”
She frowned. “I don’t need your protection. I only need your contacts to meet my father.”
Brewer also stood. “Sweet cheeks, the moment you cross paths with Shovelhead, you’ll be begging for Macha’s protection.”
A shiver of realization ran down her spine.If this club fears him, what kind of a man is Shovelhead?
She finally nodded at Rubble, giving in to their protection. Finding out Shovelhead’s history suddenly wasn’t as high on her list of priorities as surviving. “Now what?”
“We wait,” Rubble said, walking out the door.
Meeting Brewer’s steely gaze, Delphi swallowed hard. “Wait?”
