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“You’re not married to Josie yet,” Remy argues.
“Close enough! Now, please, RJ, what’s going on with Jordan?”
Our brother’s chest is rising and falling a little slower when he tells us, “The Devil Hounds have him.”
Oh, fuck me.
“Well, that’s just fucking great,” Hugo says as he goes and slumpsback down in his chair. “I thought you all told the mother chapter that the Hounds wouldn’t be a problem for the Kings!”
“We didn’t think they would be,” Remy huffs as he retakes his own seat at the head of the table while glaring at me. He runs his fingers through his chin-length, dirty-blond hair to get it out of his face. “Bear, what did you do?”
“Why do you think this is my fault?” I ask with my best poker face.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you slept with his daughter and took her virginity on your ex-wife’s wedding day?”
“It doesn’t matter what set this off,” Colt remarks. “All we can do is arm up and go to Clayton to get Jordan back!”
“And walk right into what could be Perry’s trap to kill us all?” Remy asks him.
“What other option do we have? Wait around for every other Savage King on the East Coast to get here for backup?” Colt asks. “No. We’re not waiting. I’m going tonight, even if I have to go alone.”
“My own brothers are going to get me killed one of these days,” Remy mutters to himself as he fists his hair and gives it a final tug before slapping both of his palms down on the table. “Fine. Get packing. We leave in thirty.”
“Why can’t we go now? We’re all here,” Colt points out.
“My guns and ammo aren’t! And I’ll be damned if I go over there with one clip. I want to see Avery too.”
Great. That’s reassuring. Remy’s going to say goodbye to his woman in case we all die. And if we do, it’s all my fault.
“If it becomes a shootout, we’re fucked,” Hugo says exactly what I was thinking. “You need to call the Fury brothers and tell them what’s going on. The Devil Hounds don’t have as many chapters as we do, but they’ve got enough around the country to cause problems for our other chapters.”
“Yeah, I’ll go make the call and stock up at home,” Remy says. “The rest of you do the same. Be at Greer’s in thirty. Not a minute later, RJ!”
“Yeah, okay,” my youngest older brother replies with a nod before he gets to his feet. “I’m ready. Sorry about before. I won’t lose my shit again.”
“Good. Because we don’t have time to hold your hand,” Colt tells him before we all head out into who the fuck knows what.
I’m locked and loaded when we get off our bikes to walk into what could possibly be a suicide mission.
But it’s not like we can just let that asshole keep our prospect, a kid that’s become like a son to not just Colt but RJ too since he’s the boy’s sponsor, all because he’s pissed at me.
The Devil Hounds MC has a huge bar and clubhouse with pool tables, a stage for a live band, hell, even a restaurant. It’s probably the most popular hangout in the county. Not to mention that half the male population of the town are members.
There are no less than thirty bikes parked out front in a single long line.
That’s why they wanted this chitchat here, on their home turf, where they have the clear advantage over our measly five-member club. Well, six, counting Greer, who is still technically a prospect.
“They better not have laid a finger on him,” Colt mutters under his breath as we all square our shoulders and head inside like we’re not scared shitless of being gunned down on sight in our Savage Kings cuts.
If anything happened to Jordan, Colt would never forgive me.
There’s loud music playing inside, people drinking at the bar, laughing it up when we walk in. Then it goes quiet, all but the music. Even the volume on it is turned down a few notches.
A bodybuilder in a skintight black tee with the white Devil Hounds logo on his chest is positioned at the door, blocking our entry. “Check your weapons.”
Our group all look to Remy, who nods and begins to unpack hisguns and knives, looking surprisingly at ease. “What? They’re not going to murder the five of us with all these witnesses.”
“These people are all loyal to us,” the bouncer remarks.
