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Kitten was curled up in bed with Arbor, sleeping at his side, so Whiskey kept his voice low when he told Arbor, “I talked to Bruce. He closed the place for the day. Maurice Brown was the one who told him where she was and gave him the gate code. Rebar and Beast tracked him down. Have him tied up in her cabin.”
“How did the fucker get the gate key?”
“I’m about to go find out. You up to going?”
He went to sit up, but Kitten woke up and pushed on his shoulder. “Where are you going? You need to rest.”
Arbor’s smile was soft and so was his voice as he replied, “Kitten, I’m okay. Shifter healing. It’s probably already closed up.” He kissed her lips. “I promise I’m okay.”
“I want to see for myself,” she said in a firm voice.
Whiskey bit his cheek to keep from grinning as he watched Kitten help Arbor out of bed and into the bathroom. Before the door closed, he called out, “I’ll wait outside.”
He wasn’t about to stand there and listen. If he had to guess, Arbor was about to distract Kitten in any way necessary in order to convince her he was okay. That was not something he wanted to hear.
Stepping outside, he glanced over at where Arbor’s cabin stood. As soon as the renovation was done on the small building, Arbor would be assigned that one. Not only was the club family for the members, the clubhouse was also home. It was why Whiskey jumped on it when Skull suggested they have a place where all the members had at least a room of their own. After a wild night of partying, they would each have a place to crash where no one had to drive, but it also gave them the ability to close ranks when trouble was headed their way.
Crossing the parking lot, he stopped next to his bike and pulled a pack of smokes from his cut pocket. After retrieving one, he put it to his lips and held up a lighter to the tip.
“Thought you were quitting them things,” Storm commented and walked over to him from just outside the front door of the clubhouse, where the rest of the members had gathered.
Whiskey took a hit off his cigarette and lifted his other hand to flip off his VP.
“He okay?”
After exhaling, Whiskey answered, “Yeah. He’s just convincing Kitten of that.”
Storm chuckled low. “She’s good for him.”
“She is.” He took another hit off his cigarette and exhaled. “If what Skull said about the Ol’ Ladies coming with trouble is true, we need to be more on top of shit.”
Nodding, Storm crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s be honest, men like us aren’t going to be with women who are meek, good girls. We want strong, stubborn women. Trouble is bound to follow them around.”
Whiskey sighed. His VP wasn’t wrong. “Fuck.”
TWENTY-THREE
ARBOR
Hissidewaskillinghim as Arbor stood just inside the front door of the cabin. Ten feet in front of him, tied to an old wooden chair, Maurice ‘Mo’ Brown stared at him with fear in his eyes. His long, blond hair was sticking to his cheeks that were wet with tears.Good. That fucker deserves to be afraid.
Arbor wasn’t healed enough to take Mo out by himself without delaying the rest of his healing, but he wanted to be there. He wanted Mo to know exactly who was responsible for his death.
“Megan killed him,” he told Mo as he took a couple of slow steps forward. “Because of you, my woman is a killer. You know what that means?”
“Ewan,” Mo began in a shaky voice, but Arbor let his fangs slide down and roared at him. Mo screamed and tried to back away by pushing his feet against the floor in front of him. The chair he was sitting in started to fall, but Beast caught it and set him up again as Arbor retracted his fangs.
“How did he get a key to the gate?” Whiskey asked from Arbor’s left.
Through his hysterical sobs, Mo answered, “I-I-I st-stole it fr-from Br-Bruce’s desk.”
Arbor took another step forward. “Do. You. Know. What. That. Means?” His growled question shut Mo up, but his fear was clear in his eyes. He shook his head rapidly. “It means you forfeited your life.”
“You’re going to kill me?” Mo whispered.
Arbor grinned and shook his head. “Nah. I’m still recovering from the gunshot wound.”
He let the man breathe a sigh of relief.
