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“That’s a good idea,” Jinx said as he pointed to Ty. “What did Ollie-boy borrow money from us for? Wasn’t it a gambling debt?”
Spec nodded.
“Can we leak that? Would it be enough to shift the pressure to him?” Jinx asked.
“I don’t know,” Tracker piped in. “I think he’d have thought of that. I bet Ollie has a contingency plan for that.”
“Hmm, you might be right.” Jinx nodded. “God, I hate this fucker.”
Brenna’s gaze ping-ponged around the table as everyone shared plausible and absurd ideas. Lock mostly stayed quiet, taking it all in, but he held her hand the entire time.
The idea of these men and women putting themselves on the line or even in danger terrified her. Of course, they’d do anything to help Lock and Caleb, and so would she, but what if there were an easier, safer way?
“What if I tried talking to him first?”
“Fuck no!” Lock whipped his head in her direction, gaping at her as though she’d sprouted wings from her forehead. “Are you out of your mind?”
She placed a hand on his chest. “Just listen before you freak out.”
“Too late,” Jinx muttered with a smirk, which earned him a finger from Lock.
“Hear me out, please?”
LOCK GESTURED FOR her to continue even though he’d have preferred to drag her out of the clubhouse and back to his home, where he’d tie her to the bed so she couldn’t do something stupid like confront Oliver. Over his dead body would she be within a hundred yards of that psychotic douche.
“Maybe I could scare him.” She faced him, speaking as though the rest of the room didn’t exist. “I can go to him under the guise of being worried for him. Then I can let it slip that you are planning something that’ll destroy his business or his life. All we need is for him to believe and withdraw the lawsuit, right?” She glanced around, looking for someone to agree with her.
“It could work,” Spec said, though he sounded skeptical.
Lock tried to castrate him with his gaze, earning a chuckle.
Spec lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying she should do it. There’s no way I’d let Liv do that shit. I’m just saying it could work.”
“Let me. Listen to you.” Liv snorted with a shake of her head. “Keep dreaming, buddy.”
Lock cupped Brenna’s face between his hands. He refused to allow her pleading gaze to sway him. “Spec’s right. It could work, but please don’t do it. Our way will work too.”
“But it’s so risky. What if you guys get in trouble?”
“We won’t. As a club, we know what we’re doing. Oliver has already proven he’s not above hurting you, which means I don’t trust him within a mile of your beautiful face.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a finger over her lips.
“Yes, I know he didn’t physically hurt you, but he had no problem allowing you to be hurt. He set you up for it. Please, don’t go near him.” There’d be no climbing out of the deep hole he’d fall into if something happened to her.
“I need to do something,” she whispered. “The idea of you suffering makes me want to crawl out of my skin. He can’t take Caleb from you.”
“He won’t. Like you told me last night, we’ll fight with everything we have. Caleb isn’t going anywhere. Say it.” In the light of day, the tables turned, and he’d taken on the role of bolstering her up. It felt good to be strong, confident, and the one reassuring Brenna. This was how it should be—functioning as one and stepping up for each other when necessary.
“Caleb isn’t going anywhere,” she repeated, tears glistening.
“And, baby, you are doing something. You’re holding me together. You’re the only reason I haven’t lost my shit, and that’s fucking everything. Okay?”
One of those tears escaped, rolling down her cheek. It hit his thumb, and he brushed it aside.
“Okay,” she said with a sad smile.
He kissed her, and when he would have pulled back, she clung to him for a minute longer as though the thought of breaking the connection was unfathomable.
