“Don’t take this shit out on me. I told you to get out of that club years ago. You had what you needed from them so I never could work out why you chose to stay. The boys and I can try to protect you from them if this all comes out, but there’s only so much our badge can do for you. Storm has a long reach, and if they want you dead over this, I’ve no doubt they’ll go to every length to make that happen.”
I drew in a slow, steady breath, trying to keep my anger in check. “I am fucking Storm, Danny. I know how far our reach goes and I sure as fuck know how we deal with shit like this, so don’t try and tell me what I already know. I never wanted anything to do with that Bond case all those years ago, and I damn sure don’t want a thing to do with it now. You need to find a way to make it go away, and you also need to make sure nothing else comes back to haunt me. I’m done with that part of my life, and mark my fucking words, if you don’t fix this, you won’t like the ramifications.”
Before he could respond, I ended the call. Then I paid my bill and stalked out of the bar. Staying here drinking was not a good idea in this frame of mind. Taking my frustrations out on a punching bag, however, was a fucking good idea.
2
Griff
I walked into the clubhouse early the next morning with a pounding head and aching muscles that I’d thrashed last night during a brutal training session. I’d pushed myself to the brink with exercise, needing to feel the burn – needing to forget everything else for a few hours.
Not many members had arrived by the time I got there, but I found Scott in the office going through paperwork. He glanced up at me. “You look like shit.”
Dropping into the chair across from him, I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to unkink some of the knots there and grimaced. “That about sums it up. How was the party?”
“Madison outdid herself. You missed a good night, brother, and by the looks of it, you possibly would have had a better time at the party.”
“Highly likely,” I mused, “but I wouldn’t have been good for the party; not in the mood I’m in at the moment.”
His brows pulled together. “You got something going on that you need help with?”
Guilt flashed through me. Jesus, where the hell was all this guilt coming from? Not an emotion I was used to, I shoved it away. “No, I’ve got this. A week, two at the most, and I’ll be done with it.” I shifted in my chair to try and find a more comfortable position. “Where are we at today?”
He leant back in his chair and scrubbed his face. I’d been watching Scott for weeks now and the stress the club had been under was written all over him. Dark circles sat under his eyes, his clothes hung a little looser on him from the weight he’d lost, worry lines creased his face, and he’d taken to not shaving which was something he’d never done in all the time I’d known him. “Ricky wants to meet today. Just you and me.”
“Why? We’ve already met with him and come to an agreement.” After Marcus’s death, we’d agreed not to deal drugs in Ricky’s territory and he’d appeared happy with that arrangement. Of course, while we intended not to deal drugs, we’d been working towards ridding the world of that scum; we just needed a little more time to get the club ready for any blowback. Trust in Scott still sat low for a lot of members so he was building that back up, but it was a slow process. It felt like we were walking a tightrope of keeping Ricky at bay while repairing club ties. We were aware of Ricky’s playbook, and figured it was only a matter of time before he came for us.
“I’ve got no fucking idea, but I’m guessing we’re gonna need to reassess where we’re at after it because I’m damn sure he wouldn’t be meeting just to have a catch up. The meet is at ten this morning so can you round up J and Nash for this afternoon to go over it all? I’ve got shit to deal with all morning and then I’ve gotta head over to Indigo and go through some things with Cody at about one so make it for after that. If it needs urgent attention, we’ll drop everything, so have them ready for that outcome too.”
I stood. “Will do.” As I turned to leave the office, something struck me. Looking back at him, I said, “You don’t seem as on edge as you have been. What’s different?”
He blew out a long breath. “I finally got Harlow to talk to me.”
“Thank Christ for that,” I murmured. “She okay?”
“Yeah, she will be. She just needs some time, but at least now I’m not wandering the fuck around bashing my head against the wall, getting nowhere, you know?”
I nodded. “I know, and it’s good news, man.”
Stepping out of the office, I closed the door behind me and headed into the kitchen to grab a coffee.
Wilder stood at the counter with his back to me as I entered the room. Twisting to face me, he jerked his chin. “Morning, VP.”
I’d hated being called that when I’d taken the title from Scott through deceit, but now that I’d earned it, I didn’t mind so much. “Morning.” I took in his disheveled appearance. “Did you have a late night?”
He grinned. “Yeah. Madison sure knows how to throw a party.”
“That your first one since you were patched?” We’d patched Wilder a couple of weeks ago.
He nodded as he drank some of his coffee.