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Chapter 9
“Church. Now!” Grimroared, stomping from his office as I slipped from the bar stool, joining the rest of my brothers as we entered the chapel.
Shit. Somethin’ was goin’ down. Grim seemed agitated and pissed, never a good combination. He called the meeting to order, ticking his head at Xenon.
“Fill them in.”
“I keep tabs on everyone in the club,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “but it’s to keep us all safe. I run checks periodically on the club girls more than anyone else. Quite a few of them have colorful pasts.”
“Ain’t shit we didn’t already know,” Exorcist answered.
“Yeah, well, this time I found out a bunch of shit we didn’t have a clue about.”
“On who?” Rael asked, sitting forward in his seat.
“Skyla.”
No fucking way. I opened my mouth and then shut it, avoiding direct gaze with anyone until I heard what Xenon had to say.
Grim cleared his throat. “You gonna be good with this, Chaos?”
“Kind of have to be, don’t I?” On edge, I clenched my fists under the table, hoping whatever shit Xenon found wouldn’t hurt the club.
“What do we know about her?” Grim asked, slamming a glass down on the table before he poured a shot of his favorite whiskey. He didn’t answer me, but we both knew I didn’t have a choice.
When Skyla first arrived at the Crossroads one night nearly a year ago, looking to suck dick and party, Rael was the first to object, suspicious of any chick that showed up out of nowhere. As the club’s S.A.A., he didn’t fuck around when it came to the safety of our brothers. He asked around about Skyla, went to Xenon for answers, and found nothing to cause concern. No history of violence, drug addiction, prostitution, or illegal activities. Totally clean.
Fast forward almost a year, and now it seemed that shit was intentionally hidden from us. We didn’t know much about Skyla, and now that became obvious, if not downright reckless. There was a part of me that didn’t care what he found because it wouldn’t change how much she meant to me. But I wasn’t sure how I’d react if I found out she used me or betrayed the club.
Rael hissed through his teeth. “I did a little digging. Found out she ain’t from Nevada. Went to high school in southern California.”
Grim frowned. “And?”
Xenon spoke up, clearing his throat. “She’s dangerous, pres. Her daddy is a senator. Crooked motherfucker too.”
A senator? What the hell?
“Aren’t they all?” Wraith smirked. “Not a fucking one I ever met knew how to tell the truth.”
“What senator?” I asked through a stiff jaw, fighting the growing unease suddenly winding its way through my veins like poison.
“Senator John Mitchell.”
That fucking prick? He’d been accused of some vile shit, but nothing ever came from it. The rich always found a way to bury their indiscretions.
“That’s not the worst part,” Xenon announced, rubbing the back of his neck as he chanced a glance in my direction. “He’s got some questionable connections.”
“Just spit it the fuck out,” Grim barked, slinging back another shot of amber liquor. He only drank like this when he was agitated or worried.
“He’s got ties to the Bloody Scorpions MC. Razr just happens to be an old army buddy. They fucking served together overseas in Afghanistan after 9/11.”
“How the fuck did we miss this a year ago?” Grim slammed his fist down on the table, shaking the entire wooden structure with his roar. “Start talkin’, Xenon.”
