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“You’re forgetting that Pueblo ain’t our town,” Thorne bursts the bubble all too quickly, but I see it trigger something in my VP’s eyes. His brains are what got him in that seat beside Prez. He’s fucking smart.
“Then we take it, ain't no one else's. Sure, Kenny Gutierrez runs a few smack houses, but he’s nothing we couldn’t handle. Pueblo is no-man's-land on the organized criminal map, and I think it's about time we expanded our territory.” Squashing his smoke into the ashtray, he sits back in his seat and waits for everyone else’s thoughts.
“What about the Bastards? They notice us moving in, they might want to challenge us,” Brax points out.
“Those fuckers can barely control the patch they got. How many whores we had busting down our doors, looking for work lately? They’re all saying things are getting out of control out there.”
“It’s fucking criminal.” my brother jumps in, and just when I think he might have something useful to say… “I put myself out of business, and that's when fate sends us an influx of pussy.”
He tries, but he can’t fool me. He ain’t so much as looked at another woman since he started tripping over his size twelves for Alex. He’d chop his own dick off before he cheated on her.
“We’re gonna have to vote.” Prez has that serious look on his face. “You know what the consequences could be if we decide we don’t want blowback from this?” He stares me a warning.
“Yeah, and I’ll take it,” I answer back seriously.
“Step outside,” Prez dismisses me, and Squealer gives me a worried look as I scrape back my chair and head out.
It’s a beautiful day, with clear blue skies. The grass in the meadow behind the chapel is greener than I've seen in a long time. My fate is being discussed, and yet all I can think about is her. If this vote goes against me, what will happen to her? They wouldn’t turn their back on her and hand her back over. They may be pissed off at me, but they're still good people. Besides, I’d never let that happen.
This whole situation feels surreal. I’m going against my brothers and this club, putting my own neck on the chopping block for someone I barely know.
I don’t even feel like I know myself anymore.
I light up a cigarette and watch Marilyn's car pull up outside the clubhouse. When she opens the trunk, Tawk is right on hand to help her carry the groceries inside. Shaniya comes out of the clubhouse and shelters her eyes from the sun, taking a good look around the yard like she’s grateful for another day. She crosses over to the garage to hand over the mug in her other hand, to Rogue.
Prez was right in what he said yesterday. This place has changed. We’re all family here, a dysfunctional one, but still a family. Maybe that’s why I needed to help the girl so badly. Did I convince myself for a few moments that I could bring someone into this for myself? Did I want something special of my own to protect?
The thought of it’s pathetic. I don’t deserve an old lady. People who rely on me end up getting hurt. Beth's proof of that. If I couldn’t protect my own flesh and blood, how the hell am I supposed to take care of the poor, broken girl up in my cabin?
The doors open up behind me, and Thorne calls me back in. I flick my smoke into the sandy path and crush it out with my boot. Then, preparing myself for the worst, I take a long deep breath before I enter the room.
No one’s face is readable, not even Squealer’s, as I take a seat in my chair and await their decision.
“What you did yesterday was reckless,” Prez begins, “But maybe we went in like cowards in the first place. This club has been running for over twenty-eight years, and in that time, anyone who fucked with us has lived to regret it.” I watch his lips curl up into a dark smile. “Get your head straight, Screw. Learn to take a motherfucking order when I give you one because we’re taking down Raphael Verretti, and we’re gonna need one of our strongest soldiers to be on his game.”
I let out a long sigh of relief.
“You hear that? We’re going to war brother!” Squeal stands up and slaps me hard on the back of my cut.
“Whoa, slow down.” Prez eases him up.
“We don’t know that Verretti knows this has anything to do with us yet, Maddy's good at what she does. We ain’t gonna go owning up to anything in a hurry. Taking down this big organization is gonna take time and groundwork. We need to take Pueblo first. We need to build up our defenses to keep the people that matter safe, but in time, we will kick Verretti the fuck out of Colorado.”
I nod at my Prez gratefully, knowing that I’ve come off lightly. But also knowing that we’re doing the right thing and that I’m eliminating any threat of those motherfuckers ever taking her back.
The sun is on my face, and the scent of him surrounds me.
I don’t want to wake up in case this isn’t real. I’m scared I’m imagining everything and that once I open my eyes, I’ll be back in my old room.
Peeking cautiously through my lashes, I see sunlight pouring through the window and remember where I am. I crept in here last night to be closer to Screwy. He was sleeping so peacefully; I was afraid I’d disturb him. I thought about crawling into the bed and lying beside him. I wanted to feel the warmth of his body against mine and to have the security of his huge, heavy arms around me again. But I was scared it would make him angry, so I found myself a spot on the floor instead. It isn’t like I’m not used to it.
I don’t know how I got into his bed, but I like how it feels to be surrounded by his scent. I could easily drift back off to sleep, but my tummy is rumbling, and I need to use the bathroom. I wonder if I need to wait for him to come and relieve me. But he’s told me things are different here, that there are no masters. I don’t want him to look at me like that again, so dragging myself out of the comfortable bed, I slowly creep toward the bathroom.
I stop in my tracks when I see a woman sitting at his table. Her hair is dark like mine but shiny and tied up in a high ponytail, and in her hands, the huge needles and ball of wool seem familiar to me.
“Morning,” she looks up from what she’s doing with a warm smile that I don’t know how to respond to.
I was taught many things by my trainer. Socializing wasn't one of them.
