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“And, mine,” Savage said. He stood and pulled Cillian from his seat, bear-hugging him until Kill was sure he’d have to tap out.
“I can’t breathe, Savage,” he protested. Savage chuckled and released him.
“You’re family, Cillian. That extends to Viv and the baby. We’ll always take care of them both,” Savage promised. Kill felt a little choked up at the mention of being considered a part of Savage’s family. He had to admit, it felt pretty damn good to be a part of anything again. Family was hard to come by and Cillian would do just about anything for his—even go on a suicide mission.
_______
Kill, Hart and Havoc parked their bikes in the back of the bar’s lot and cut their engines. Cillian eyed the bar suspiciously as if it would remember him the way he remembered his days as a Dragon’s prospect. He hated the kid who wanted to be a part of something so badly that he threw his entire fecking life away. Cillian knew that sooner or later he’d have to forgive himself for being that stupid kid. But, for now, his hatred was what was fueling him to go through with this whole crazy plan.
“You good man?” Havoc questioned.
“Yeah, just stick to the plan and don’t feck this up,” Cillian warned, looking directly at Hart.
“Don’t look at me, man. I’ve got this down pat. It’s just another Thursday night for me. You two need to calm the fuck down and stop looking at me like you don’t trust me. If we’re going to be believable, we have to at least pretend to like each other,” Hart said. He wasn’t wrong. Cillian didn’t trust him and if Dante or any of the Dragons caught on to that, they’d all be dead.
“Fine,” Cillian said, slapping Hart on the shoulder for good measure. “Let’s do this, Old Friend.”
Havoc chuckled and shook his head. “You two pussies are going to get me shanked, I just know it. Let’s get this shit storm over with. I’ve got some groveling to do and if I’m lucky, Dante will just have his guys knock me around a little. While that’s happening, you two have a look around, to see if you can find Chloe. Ready?” Cillian hated knowing that Havoc was going to have to endure a little pain for their plan to work but there was no way around it. He knew how things worked—you went up against the club, you ended up dead or wishing you were.
“Ready,” Cillian lied. He let Havoc take lead and he and Hart flanked his sides. They made their way through the side door and into the main room of the bar. There was a full house tonight, probably of guys who were there to watch some retribution. Word usually got around fast and if it was made known that Havoc was coming in to grovel, guys would show up to watch.
“Well, look who decided to take me up on my generosity. You brought friends, too.” Dante shouted over the music and hum of conversations. Everyone in the bar stopped talking and turned to see who their Prez was talking about. The sea of bikers parted, letting the three of them pass and Havoc seemed to take that as their invitation to approach Dante.
He sat up by the bar in a booth that Cillian would guess was made especially for him. It seemed to sit higher than the others and allowed him to look over everyone in the crowd, much like a king would sit on his throne over his subjects. They stood in front of Dante’s makeshift stage and Kill felt like he was holding his fucking breath for what was about to come next.
“You here to join us or to accept your fate?” Dante asked. The crowd hummed with excitement at the prospect of there being a punishment doled out tonight for their viewing pleasure.
“Join,” Havoc shouted. Some of the guys booed and hissed and Havoc laughed like he was enjoying their shouts of disapproval.
“You know you can’t just quit the Dragons and not pay some price, right Havoc?” Dante yelled.
Havoc nodded and pointed to Kill and Hart. “That’s why I brought you a peace offering, Prez,” he lied. “Two prospects.” Kill and Hart stepped up, flanking Havoc’s sides again. Cillian wasn’t sure if Dante looked pleased or pissed at the idea of him waltzing back into his club with two guys at his side. He could take them being with Havoc as peace offerings or as a threat. However he took it would be up to him and Kill knew that Dante’s word would be law. He also knew that the leader of the Dragon’s was ruthless, after hearing how he went after Savage’s family months back.
“I heard you were out Kill,” Dante said, looking him over. He wasn’t surprised that the Dragon’s Prez knew who he was. It was Dante’s business to keep tabs on everyone linked past and present to the club. “I just had you pegged on joining Savage’s gang of pussies,” Dante taunted.
Cillian smiled, trying for cool, even though he felt anything but. “Nope,” he said. He knew not to speak until spoken to, as a prospect. He had been through this process before with the Dragons. The only problem was the last time, it didn’t end so well for him. “I’ve found that Savage Hell isn’t who I am anymore, since doing my time. Let’s just say that I’ve gotten a little harder after being in prison. I think the Dragons are more my speed now.”
Dante looked him over as if sizing him up and nodded. He turned to give Hart the same attention and Cillian’s damn heart felt as if it was going to beat right out of his chest. “And who do we have here?” Dante questioned.
“This is Fuzz,” Havoc said.
Dante laughed, “What the hell kind of name is that?” he asked.
“The kind that you get when you used to be a cop,” Hart said.
“Shit,” Cillian swore under his breath. Dante nodded to his enforcer who stood just off to the side and he stepped forward and punched Hart in the gut.
“You’ll find that you learn the rules quickly around here,” Dante growled. “Rule one—you don’t speak unless I ask you to, prospect. Got it?” Hart was still doubled over, holding his gut and when he didn’t immediately respond to Dante, he had his enforcer land another punishing blow—this time to poor Hart’s jaw. He groaned and straightened, trying to look Dante in the eyes.
“Answer me, prospect,” Dante ordered. “What’s rule one?”
“No talking unless you ask it,” Hart offered. He wiped at the blood that dribbled down his chin and Cillian felt bad for the guy.
“So, you were a cop?” Dante asked. “What makes you want to join the dragons, Fuzz?”
Hart’s smile was mean, “To kill some fucking cops,” he said. Dante looked him over, trying to decide if he believed the guy or not and then threw back his head, laughing.
“I think I might like you, Fuzz. That is if you can learn the fucking rules.” Hart nodded at Dante, keeping his mouth shut. Yeah, it didn’t take much to learn the rules when they were beaten into you enough. Kill had learned that lesson in prison.
