“You mean Mancuso?” I ask. Before I can get the word out, she’s snapping her fingers and nodding.
“That’s it,” she says then starts pacing again. “Anyway, he said they need to talk about an acquisition and something about a hostile takeover, and then it was weird. He said something about the club not wanting to give up some assets. It didn’t make much sense, but then he said something about aggressive tactics. I just, I can’t do that again. Look at me, I’m shaking,” she says and lifts a shaking hand up to my face.
Shit.
“Anything else?”
“I asked him why he couldn’t go to you himself, and he said he wanted to check on Cheyenne,” she says and trails off. She places her hand over her mouth and gasps. Whatever she’s thinking about is frightening her, which is putting me on edge.
She rushes up to me, places her hands on my chest and says, “He threatened her. He said he’d hate to see anything happen to her, and when I started to freak out, he asked me to not make him hurt me.”
Everything in the room comes into focus. Even the tiny imperfections in the paint job where the wall meets the ceiling are crystal clear. I can hear everything around me. Forcing myself to be hyper aware is the only way I can shut down the straight-up panic attack I’m about to have. It’s rare that I find myself losing control and turning into a madman, but fucking with my kid is sure to do it every time. Cheyenne is the only good thing that came of my marriage to Layla, and she’s worth every goddamn headache and heartache I’ve had over her bitch mother. I can’t live in a world where my kid doesn’t, and even the faintest suggestion of losing her is enough to make me shut down entirely. But I can’t go there and let that happen. People depend on me. Letting them down can get them killed. My brothers deserve better than that. So instead, I let myself slip into autopilot where I can just take care of shit without thinking too much about what I’m doing.
“You and Chey are both safe,” I tell her and reach up and awkwardly place my hand on her shoulder. She’s not calling me an asshole or screaming at me, so I try to do what I can to keep shit calm. Her eyes drift to my hand and, very slowly, she removes her hands from my chest. Something doesn’t sit right with me with the way she removes her hands, but instead of thinking on it, I file it away for later. I’m never going to figure this woman out, and there’s no reason I should want to. When I take my hand off her shoulder, she backs up. I push off the door and then open it with every intention of walking out without saying anything else. But the look on Holly’s face is so pathetic that it stabs at something in me, and I find myself trying to comfort her. “You trust that I’m going to keep you safe?”
She gives little more than a non-committal murmur that I don’t understand, but as I stride out of the room she whispers so low I shouldn’t even be able to hear it, “I want to.”
On my way down the hall and into the main room where my brothers are all sitting around and talking strategy, I let that tiny bit of confidence Holly has in me push me to make good on my promise. My kid is safe as long as she’s with us—which is where she’s going to stay—but I have no clue what I’m going to do with Holly. I doubt she’ll be gung-ho about staying with me until this shit blows over, and I can’t lock her up in the basement for her own safety. Although, it would serve her right for being so fucking difficult. Regardless of what I end up doing with her, right now I need to get Ian and one of our prospects to take her and Chey to the house to be with my mother, who should be home right about now. I need them safe with a few of my brothers so I can focus on finding this asshole and demonstrating why his little stunt is the last mistake he will ever make.
Chapter 13
Grady
“WE DON’T HAVE any fucking clue where this guy is, let alone who he is!” Duke shouts from across the table. We’re in Church—again. I’m starting to think I should just move into this fucking room with how many club meetings we’ve had lately. This shit is necessary, and I need to keep my head in the game, but I can’t stop my foot from tapping on the floor in a show of impatience. I just want to get home to Chey and make sure she’s okay. I still need to figure out what to do with Holly, and I need to calm my mother down. No doubt she’s half past crazy right now.