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“Gus,” she says, almost smiling.
Aurora’s affect changes around the bikers. She’s less relaxed and her shoulders are raised. Her eyes are guarded, and she darts glances around the room.
In all, there’s about ten bikers for each of my men. It appears I’m not the only one expecting trouble.
“What’s this about, boss?” Gus asks.
Calling Aurora ‘boss’ garners more than a few looks and raised brows. Gus is an old grizzled biker with plenty of grey in his beard. If I have to guess, I’d say he’s Aurora’s primary supporter as president.
“We are going to take on the Bratva,” Aurora announces.
There’s some low rumbling from the bikers. They shift uneasily, shooting hard looks at my men. I pretend I don’t notice. The last thing I should do is act like I know we’re outnumbered.
“Why?”
“For real?”
“Because they killed Billy and put Liam in the hospital,” Aurora says. “That’s why the O’Connors are here today. We have a common enemy.”
I’m proud of Aurora. Her voice is high and clear, ringing with authority.
“Let’s kill those fuckers!”
Whoops and hollers of approval follow the statement.
I glance at Nick. His expression is the same as mine. We’re both thinking it ‘white trash’. But the good thing about white trash? They understand the need for revenge. That blood demands blood.
“And since the Bratva also killed my cousin Jack, then you’re still working for us, but it’ll be a forty-sixty split in our favor.”
Aurora’s lips purse into a thin line, but she nods in agreement.
“Alright, boys. About time to take a vote,” Aurora says.
Chapter 27
Aurora
I call a meeting with the Dullahans to form a real alliance with the O’Connors against the Bratva. I wish I didn’t have to focus on them. I’m teeming with ideas for ways to improve the club and bring it into the twenty-first century. But with the Russians looming, I can’t worry about that. Admitting women into the Dullahan does me no good if I’m dead. And I’m not giving the reins back to Liam. After I told Caine about my leadership, I started to think and now I’m committing to everything I never wanted.
Gus grins from ear to ear at the sight of me at the table. “We should have admitted women years ago. About damn time we had a pretty face at the head of the table.”
“Can it, Gus.”
Bellows of laughter ring out.
“We ain’t letting any more women in here!” Stink exclaims.
I smile, but it’s filled with rage. “Shut the fuck up. It was the Bratva who killed dad and attacked Liam. Working with the Irish is how we’re going to get revenge.”
“All in favor of working with the Irish rather than letting the Russians wipe us out, say aye,” Gus says before anyone argues.
Everyone says ‘aye’ except for Stink, who acquiesces when Gus slaps the back of his head.
“Good,” I say. “Now onto the plan.”
???
A week later, I’m leading dad’s funeral procession through the streets of Boston. Members from all over the state turned up to show their respect to dad.
