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“A few have come forwards, trying to claim the money, but as far as I know, Richardson has no idea Skye’s here.”
I glance around the table, looking at my club brothers and wondering if they’re wishing I’d never transferred to Manchester. When the Pioneers’ king discovers where his daughter has been all this time, he’s going to unleash hell on the club.
“Maybe we can head this off,” Brewer muses.
“How?” Hawk sounds annoyed, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the situation or because he’s in this room.
He’s not an officer, yet like me, he’s getting more invitations to the table than he probably would like. Sitting here comes with a whole host of expectations, and although he patched into the chapter, those nomad roots are hard to pull up when they’ve dug in.
“There’s an easy way to end all of this. Kill Richardson.” This answer comes from Terror, who speaks as if it’s the most obvious answer.
Of course, he would choose the most dramatic way to end this, but I’m glad his thoughts align with mine. It means I at least have one person on my side in this room.
“I was thinking more about laying a false trail for Skye, get Richardson looking in a different direction, but killing him works too.” Brewer glances up the table in Howler’s direction, as if seeking approval from this man.
Maybe Terror isn’t the only one on my side after all.
I wait with bated breath, wondering what course of action Howler will decide to take. He is deep in thought as he rubs his finger over his lip, his gaze unfocused. “Richardson is a problem that doesn’t seem to be going away, but he has resources, and numbers too. We have to handle this carefully.”
I’m sick of being careful. I want my girl and my kid safe, and I know for a fact not one man in this room would stand by while their woman was in danger.
“Fuck that,” I growl out, unable to hold my tongue any longer.
Howler’s gaze snaps in my direction, his granite eyes pinning me to my seat. If I had any sense, I’d back down and apologise, but I don’t.
“You got something to say?”
I plant my hands on the table and push to my feet. “Yeah, I’ve got fucking plenty to say. Richardson is a threat to my woman and my kid. Ain’t sitting around waiting for him to take her, to hurt her. I’m starting to think Trick’s method of dealing with these cunts ain’t the wrong one.”
“Yeah, because his homicidal rampage has really calmed things down.” No one misses the sarcasm that drips from Blackjack’s words.
“I don’t care about calming things down. I care about keeping Skye safe.”
Howler sighs. “At the moment, everyone is safe.”
“But for how long?” Hawk siding with me has my head snapping in his direction. I didn’t expect that. “I don’t like the idea of bringin’ danger here. There’re kids and old ladies, family, people who rely on our protection, but this shit is never gonna end unless we stop it. I say we kill the fucker. Cut the head off the snake and watch the rest of his shitty organisation fold.”
“And if we fail?”
Silence descends around the room before Terror breaks it. “We die.”
I narrow my eyes at his candid words. We dance with death every damn day. It ain’t something I fear, or I hadn’t until Skye came into my life. Now, there’s an uneasy pain in my stomach at the thought of leaving her to fend for herself.
“Then we don’t fail,” Brewer says with a shrug.
“She ain’t an old lady.” Howler’s words make my gut hurt for a different reason.
“She’s pregnant with my kid.” I can’t mask the anger in my tone.
“Yeah, and we’ll protect her because of that, but she ain’t an old lady, Rage, and that makes it harder for us to act.”
“You want me to claim her? I’ll do it right now.”
Howler doesn’t say anything. He stares at me, as if weighing me up. “Ain’t that simple.”
“You need a vote? So, do it,” I urge, ready to have this done.
“Even if every man around this table agrees to bring her in officially, I won’t.”
