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Hurricane scrubs at his face like he’s trying to think shit through. “Look, I don’t know how we’re gonna do it, but we won’t attack. We’ll hit him without them knowin’ it’s us. If we can do it without startin’ a war, we will do it that way. That good with you, Constance?”
The wrathful scowl follows a small laugh. “I don’t care if you make it look like a simple road accident or that he choked on a ham sandwich. I don’t carehowit’s done, just that itisdone.”
Hurricane looks out over the rest of us, clear hesitation in his eyes, but then he turns to the Baroness beside him and places his hand for her to shake. “You have a deal.”
A resounding huff echoes around the room as the rest of us feel the heaviness of his decision.
This isnotgood.
The Baroness shakes his hand a single time. “You’ve made the right choice for your club, Hurricane. I will get my team to send a coded message to Raid with all the information on the bunker for you to take your women there. It is available to you as of right now. You can go there whenever you have them all gathered. But from what my intel tells me, you should get them there fast because Anton will be looking for them and picking them up one by one.”
Hurricane nods to Raid, who stands and darts out of the room.
My stomach is churning, wondering if Ingrid is okay or if the Bratva has already started their attack.
“I’d say thank you for comin’ to us with this information, but I feel like you’ve also kicked me in the nuts while handin’ me the olive branch, so… I’m not gonna. I will, however, say it’s time for you to leave because we gotta get a move on and find our women. You understand the need for us kickin’ your ass out?” Hurricane states.
She chuckles, standing and gently wiping her dress suit down. “I understand perfectly. I’ll be talking to y’all real soon. Good luck! And if you need me, you know my number. I’ll send my men to the bunker to watch over your women so you can rally and deal with the Bratva at full strength. You’ll needallyour men, Hurricane.Ineed you to take care of Anton.Get. It. Done.”
He nods, and she turns, walking for the clubhouse exit, her men following her like little fucking sheep. The rest of us spin, facing Hurricane, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But he doesn’t change course. “Right, you heard the lady. Go call your women. Get them back here fuckin’ now. If you can’t get ahold of them, hop on your bike and pick them up. We need them here…yesterday! Go!”
We all stand slowly, unsure if that’s all.
Bayou is the first to talk. “Are we really not going to talk aboutwhat the fuckjust happened in here?”
Hurricane cranes his neck to the side, and the audible cracks from the tension in his spine ripples through the room. “Look, I know this is a bitter pill to swallow. I don’t know how the fuck we’re gonna do this, but we gotta think about what’s more important. These are the lives of the people we love. All our women, children, our mothers, our sisters…” He rubs a hand through his hair, the pressure so great, the lines on his forehead have never been so pronounced. “This is one of those cases where it’s the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. And in this case, it’s one man. Yes, it happens to be a fellow president who we all respect and fuckin’ look up to. A friend. A brother. But what choice do we have when it’sourclub at war?”
“We stand and fight against the Baroness, Pres,” Hoodoo states, and the other guys nod in agreement.
“And how do we do that when that bitch controls everythin’? The woman has power every-fuckin’-where. Hell, I’m sure she even has her say in what the Baton Rouge Bachelors do, and we all know the powerthatelite enterprise has in the South. The fact she came to us to do this instead of the Bachelors or the Bratva means she targeted us. She’s been using us, buildin’ these favors we owe her over time for this specific reason. She’s been planin’ this for a while. She knew once we had so many outstandin’ debts, there was no way we could say no. So I get it… this is fuckin’ crazy and reprehensible. She played us, but we need to think smarter. We need to think preservation… and goin’ along with the Baroness’ plan is the only way forward at this point.”
Bayou stands, slamming his fist on the table. “This. Is.Bullshit!I have fucking twins on the way, and I still would have voted for finding another way around this. We don’t turn on Defiance, Hurricane,” his voice raises higher the longer he speaks. He rolls his chair out so hard it runs across the room and slams into the wall, then storms for the exit.
“In case you’ve forgotten,brother, those twins aremyfamily too. I want them to be fuckin’ safe because their mother is my fuckin’ stepsister who I love more than anythin’. Sodon’tcome at me. I’m just takin’ care of the people I love.”
“Yeah, while betraying those who have helped us countless times. It’s called backstabbing,brother, and it’s not a good look!” Bayou pulls back the Chapel door, walks through, and slams it shut behind him, the picture frames on the wall rattling with the movement.
Hurricane sinks back into his chair, scrubbing at his face. “Anyone else got anythin’ they wanna get off their chest? Now’s the time to say it! ’Cause we’re not discussin’ this again until the time comes to act on it.”
We all glance around the room, but none of us are willing to say anything. I think Bayou said everything we’re all thinking. He’s the only one brave enough to say anything because he is Hurricane’s blood. The rest of us can’t get away with standing up to our president like that. So, we sit back and keep those thoughts to ourselves.
“Good. This is a lot to take on, but the main priority is our women. Let’s bring them in. Make the calls. Get on your bikes. Let’s get them to the bunker so we can format a plan for the Bratva… now. Fucking. Go!”
We each make our way for the door when my eyes meet City’s, and we don’t have to say anything to each other to know what we’re both thinking.
Fuck me! Shit is going to hell!
If we get caught killing a fellow president, it could start a civil war within the Defiance chapters.
Which, honestly, is probably exactly what the Baroness wants—for Defiance to self-implode.
Hurricane is playing right into her hands because she is targeting the one thing he can’t stand to lose.His family. So because of that, we’re all fucked.
We walk out into the main clubroom, a sense of urgency surrounding us.
I turn to City. “You on board with this?”
He rolls his shoulders. “I have to support my president. But it’s controversial… and it will backfire. We’re men down. Houston is stronger than us… I don’t know. But right now, we need to focus on the women and getting them to safety. I gotta go call Iz, get her back here.”
