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I led Layla up the stairs to the room I’d often used before she came to live with me. “We aren’t going home?” she asked when I ushered her inside.
“Sorry, gorgeous. You’re safest here, and I have some club shit that can’t wait.”
“Okay.” Her immediate acceptance of my explanation made me want to kiss the fuck outta her. She’d filled the role of old lady perfectly. Never making me feel guilty for the shit I couldn’t tell her or when I had to leave for a run or some other MC business.
I stalked over to a long black dresser on the wall opposite the bed and opened the top drawer. There were several clean shirts, and I pulled one out before closing it.
After helping her change and get into bed, I curled myself around her. While I held her, I explained everything that had happened in the past few months and why she’d been shot. Guilt was eating at me, but she placed her palm on my cheek and whispered, “This isn’t your fault, Roman. It’s the work of madmen. Lunatics who wouldn’t know the first thing about love and loyalty. Things that make the Silver Saints righteous, even if your methods aren’t exactly…legal.” She giggled, and I turned my head to kiss her palm.
“I’m going to have to take care of some shit soon, gorgeous. And you need rest. Sleep, baby. I’m going to hold you a little longer before I have to go.”
I wanted to stay there, to keep her in my arms until the fear abated. But the need to keep her safe dragged me away.
13
ROM
Cash wiped the blood off his knife before handing it to one of our prospects. He was one of Dash’s employees, so he’d been tasked with “cleaning” The Block.
"He doesn’t know where they’re holing up,” he grunted. “But he gave us all kinds of shit about the internal workings of the club.” His furious eyes met mine, and he jerked his head toward the room he’d just exited. “He’s all yours.”
Cash’s old lady, Karina—who happened to be the dirty judge’s daughter—had been the real target, so I’d given him first crack at our captive. However, since my woman was hit, it was my right to kill the fucker.
Mac leaned against the wall outside the room when I came back out half an hour later. His arms were folded over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other, and his face was blank. This was one of the reasons he was so intimidating to anyone besides our MC family. He was impossible to read, his expression giving nothing away. He looked relaxed when he was perfectly alert.
But his reputation for being ruthless and lethal was a reality. Even if Bridget was around when he was with someone besides a brother, she played the docile, subservient old lady, reinforcing his image. And everyone knew he expected the same of his ranks.
Which was why we rarely had another MC challenge us. It was a death sentence.
The Devil’s Jesters we’re either stupid as fuck to think they could take us on, or they had a death wish.
The prospect was also waiting in the hallway and disappeared into the room, shutting the door behind him.
Mac pushed away from the wall and jerked his head toward the open room at the front of the building, where several of my brothers gathered.
“Found ’em,” he said gruffly.
Dax was handing out clean—unregistered and wiped of evidence—weapons from a small armory to the left of the hallway entrance.
“They were laying low at one of their strip clubs.”
“But the prez controls their funds, and he had to come out of hiding to take a delivery of cash and pay on some of their debts,” Scout chimed in as he tucked a handgun in a holster under his cut.
“Debts?”
Grey’s grin was dark and anything but amused when he responded. “Fucker owes people who don’t fuck around with people who don’t pay. They’ll just kill you and go after your family or anyone connected to you who can pay. We take him and the VP out, the club will probably break up and scatter.”
“The men they owe won’t go after the members?” I asked as I accepted a couple of weapons from Dax.
“Nah. The only one with access to the cash is the prez and VP. Even the treasurer was kept on a leash.”
I rolled my eyes and grunted, “Fuck of a brotherhood.”
“Not for long,” Mac growled.
Grey chuckled. “Besides, I already moved all their assets into an offshore account and sent the information to the guys they owe. Not gonna tell the patches that, though.”
“Scout, take Dax and Phantom and whoever else you need to open the clubhouse for us,” Mac ordered.
“Rom, you come with me, Patriot, Cash, Grey, and Knight. Once we’re in, other than handling any guards or anyone who gets in our way, we find the assholes in charge, take care of them, only them, and get out. Understood?”
