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No, something needs to be done and it needs to be done now, while Jacob is emotionally overloaded and is most likely to fuck up and get caught.
“Chase is right,” I blurt.
Maceo and Gauge look at me like I’ve grown a third head. Punk scowls—putting me in danger goes against his bodyguard instincts.
Chase slaps his hands down on the work bench. “Thank you, Jo!” He says with renewed energy. “See, she gets it.”
Maceo’s massive form grows larger, hovering over me, shaking his head and pointing a thick finger at me. “This isn’t fucking happening. I’m not putting you in jeopardy.”
“It’s not your call. It’s mine,” I snap back.
“The hell it is! My club, my rules, and we’re not doing shit to provoke the fucker,” Maceo snarls. “I’ll fucking lock you up before I let the cocksucker try to pull anymore shit on you.”
Defiant, I square my shoulders. “Go ahead and hide me away in a bunker but use me to pull the prick out first. I don’t have to be anywhere near the situation. Hell, none of you need to be near the situation. We can bring in local law enforcement to handle it.”
“And what’s going to bring his sorry ass in? We had no clue when he was going to attack us before. What the hell is going to prompt his next attack?” Maceo barks at me in challenge.
I smirk because it’s obvious. “A wedding, of course.”
