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“Stacia, don’t talk about things you don’t have the first clue about,” the prospect calls from the bar. “I’ll tell you one thing, Ozzy hates bunny drama more than anything else, so I’d watch your mouth if I were you.”
“Shut up, prospect. You don’t know shit.”
“That’s enough,” Ozzy hollers from the doorway leading from where they hold church. “Stacia, I’ve had about enough of your shit. You should already know better than to disrespect any member, prospect, or guest of this club. Since you can’t seem to remember your place, I’ll make it real clear for you. You don’t have one. Get your shit and get the hell out of my club.”
Stacia looks at Ozzy, shock written across her face. Guess she didn’t think they would be done so soon.
“Ozzy—“ she starts.
“I’m certain I didn’t ask you to argue.” He points down the hallway with narrowed eyes and a tight jaw, and she scrambles to her room.
Linc is behind Ozzy, watching as his former fuck buddy, or maybe it would be considered fuck bunny, is getting thrown out on her ass. Not a shred of sympathy shows on his face. In fact, no emotion whatsoever is in his gaze. It’s weird and so at odds with the eyes I’m used to looking into. The man doesn’t necessarily wear his heart on his sleeve, but this is something different, something colder.
When he turns to face me, though, his expression changes. Instead of cold indifference, there’s heated anger, and it’s directed at me.
Chapter fifteen
Linc
Leavingmybedthismorning was a true testament of my will and commitment to my club. Damn, Charlie’s naked form lying peacefully next to me was enough to make me almost tell Ozzy to fuck off when he called church at stupid early a.m. The only thing I wanted was to have some sleepy good morning sex with my girl, not sit in a room of grumpy bikers, who are as much morning people as I am.
But duty fucking calls, so my ass is in the seat next to Knox, waiting for the rest of my brothers to hobble in.
“You look like shit,” I say to Wyatt and Barrett as they trudge to the table. When Jude enters church after them, it’s all I can do not to laugh. He sinks to his seat with sunglasses over his eyes and an almost green pallor to his skin. “Rough night?” I laugh, not being able to control it.
“Your girl’s friend is the Devil incarnate, and nothing you say will make me believe otherwise.”
I chuckle again at his obvious discomfort from not being able to sleep off what looks to be the hangover from hell.
“I thought you Brits were immune to hangovers or some shit.”
“Obviously, you thought wrong.” Jude shakes his head. “I’ve never seen a woman so good at quarters. It’s like she willed the damn coin to make it in the cup every time. It’s unnatural. She’s gotta be some sort of telekinetic demon.”
When the rest of the brothers wander in, Ozzy bangs the gavel on the table harder than usual, which elicits a groan from the three hungover fools who had something to prove with Lucy last night.
Idiots.
“Got word from the Irish late last night. Seems Cillian heard from his cousin.” Ozzy gives me a look that isn’t hard to interpret. He’s irritated they have information about this situation that we still don’t, and it’s my fault.
“I was planning on talking to Charlie about it today, Oz.”
After last night, it finally feels like she’s ready to trust me, not just with her body but her secrets as well.
“Be that as it may, Jace has enlisted the Italians. He called Cillian and warned him that a war was coming, and he was going to be on the losing side. The guy was high as a fucking kite, according to Finn. Told Cillian that Charlie has a notebook containing dates, names, and places of some deals. Also, the routes the Irish used to push product to Canada and the location of several safe houses.”
“How the hell did that fucking guy get so much info?” Knox asks.
“Cillian had him doing odd jobs of the illegal variety for a while when the Irish didn’t want to be directly involved,” Ozzy answers. “Unfortunately for everyone, seems this fucker was keeping track of the people he met and the places he went. He told Cillian that he had a bunch of shit on us, too. Said the Italians were more than happy to cut a deal with him in exchange for the information in the notebook Charlie stole from him.”
“Why did he give his cousin a heads-up? He knows we’re on good terms with the Irish,” Jude chimes in, finally joining the land of the living.
“Cillian says he’s gone off the rails. That’s why he stopped throwing work his way years ago. He saw the writing on the wall and didn’t want Jace involved with his business anymore.”
“By writing on the wall, does he mean he knew his cousin was beating the shit out of Charlie?” The idea enrages me. I always liked Cillian, so I’d hate to have to come to blows with him. And I would if he knew what that fuckhead was doing to her and didn’t step in.
“I don’t think so. We all know Cillian. He’s a good man who runs a tight crew. If he knew one of his employees was beating on a woman, he’d make damn sure to put a stop to it, family or not.”
I nod in agreement. From what I remember, Charlie only met the guy once or twice. She could have very well been hiding her bruises like she tried to do at the diner the first time I met her.
