Anthony bit the inside of his cheek before turning his attention to Grace Pastore who took that as her cue to step around, bringing her and the Bulldog face to face.
“The last time I visited with Victor he told me if there was any sort of danger, or I felt threatened that I should come here and see you. Now, I don’t know what kind of deal you and my husband have but when I told him what I overheard today he told me to get my ass here as fast as possible,” she said with a flustered sigh. “I went to the café this morning like Victor instructed me to, he wanted me to bring Jimmy our financials, papers and what have you regarding our home. Jimmy didn’t know I was there waiting for him, and I overheard him talking to one of his guys. He was going on and on about making you and your club pay for double crossing him. He said you would be his puppet, and he’d teach Vic a lesson once and for all, showing him who, and I quote ‘is the fucking boss,’” she said, before nodding toward the front door of the clubhouse. “Seems like the puppet master is ready to make moves.”
I grabbed Jack’s cigarette out of his mouth and took a fucking drag because…my fucking truck just blew up and these assholes were making small talk about puppets and gangsters.
He looked at me before turning to Anthony.
“Any idea how he’d know what we had planned for him?”
“No fucking idea,” he said, shaking his head. “We can’t get in touch with Vic either. She’s sent emails but no response. Might be in the hole.”
Of course he was. Fucking gangsters.
“Fine time for him to get locked in solitary,” Jack mumbled, turning to Grace. “Thanks for coming and clueing me in.”
Oh, so we’re going to have a heart to heart right now? My fucking truck was dust but let’s make nice with Vic’s old lady.
Fuck this.
I brushed passed them, making my way inside the clubhouse and headed straight toward the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the shelf I guzzled that shit down. The door opened and Jack, Grace and Bianci filed through, going back and forth about Jimmy, Vic, summoning their inner Sherlock.
“And he hasn’t knocked on your door?” Jack questioned.
Anthony shook his head, crossing his arms against his chest. “I don’t think he knows shit, I think he surmises something and maybe he knew Grace was listening and wanted to see if she’d run here. That’s why I took her, in case she was being followed,” he explained.
I couldn’t fucking listen to these idiots anymore.
“He blew up my fucking car, the bastard knows something is up,” I shouted. “And it’s not the drugs because that shit was pure,” I added disgustedly.
I could vouch for the drugs. That was the purest heroin my veins ever fed off.
The door opened to the compound and Pipe and Wolf strode in.
“The fire is being contained. I called it into our friends over at the N.Y.P.D. and Jones is sending a blue and white over so it looks legit on paper,” Pipe announced. He was good like that, providing a cover when things went south for the club. And it was a good thing too because on top of everything else we didn’t need the fucking bomb squad sniffing around our shit.
“Your truck is toast, man,” Wolf said, narrowing his eyes at me. “And you almost were too, so who’s going to clue the rest of us in on what the fuck is going on here?” He asked as he pinned Jack with a scrutinizing stare.
Pipe glared at Bianci. “This got some shit to do with Pastore?”
I saw Jack’s eyes darken and took it as a sign he was wallowing in his own shit. Now, wouldn’t be the time to tell him told you so, but fuck, I warned him this shit would land on the Satan’s Knights doorstep. Albeit I didn’t bank on my truck being the first casualty. But he wanted to keep this shit on the low and now the club was staring at him like he was betraying them.
Jack turned to Pipe and Wolf, opened his mouth to explain but then he paused, spinning around and pierced me with a look.
“When you left my house this morning where did you go?” He asked with his jaw clenched and his fists tightly wound at his sides.
Was he fucking kidding me right now?
I took another swig from the bottle before stepping around the bar and crossing my arms against my chest and leveled him with a stare.
“I dropped your woman off at the church around the block from her house like a good little gopher,” I growled.
“His woman?” Pipe asked, incredulously. “What the fuck is going on?”
“And after that?” Jack coaxed.
Lacey’s face flashed in front of my eyes and for a split second I could still feel her in my arms, swaying as she leaned her head against my chest. I could still taste her and smell her shampoo as I pressed my nose into her hair.
“Where did you go?” He demanded, his voice growing louder, more impatient.
“Nowhere,” I lied, watching as he tried to read me. Poor bastard probably thought I was high, drunk even. You see, I could read Jack, get inside his head before he even knew he was on the verge of a breakdown but that shit worked both ways.