“Keep an eye on this whore,” the Prez growled to him on the way out. “I don't know this chick from Eve, and there's no telling what she'll do. We don't need anymore goddamned problems, especially if she's a Deads' slut.”
The Enforcer nodded. I looked past him, locking eyes with Meg for about two seconds. She was still staring at me as the Veep dragged me out, daggers and disappointment in her eyes.
Sixty, Crawl, and the prospects wisely kept their distance from the ruckus in the back. I was all alone when Dust kicked his door open. Joker dragged me in, hurling me into the chair across from Dust's beat up desk.
The Veep marched over to the door and stood guard while I sat up, coming face-to-face with my very pissed off Prez. I folded my arms, matching the intensity.
He wanted to skewer me, and I didn't blame him. But he didn't know shit. I'd tell him everything, explain why I put my ass on the line for this woman – or at least give him one good reason for involving the entire club.
“I never expected this from you,” Dust began, sinking down into his seat. “You're supposed to be our brains, at least when it comes to numbers. For fuck's sake – three motherfuckers you put in coffins today. Three! And I want to believe there's a damned good reason behind it.”
“That's what I want to get to, Prez, if you'll just let me explain –“
“No.” He held up a hand lined with thick, brutal looking rings on every finger “Not yet. How'd you manage it? You've never dropped that many bastards on your own. Something tells me Sixty and Crawl were in on this too.”
Shit. I put all my energy into not letting my eyes wander from his iron stare. He was probing me, trying to decide if he ought to put the other two into the fire with me.
I couldn't let that happen. Not when I'd served them an IOU in blood.
“They're innocent. This is all on me, Prez. It wasn't as hard as you'd think. I shook down the pimp for intel, same fucking place where I met the girl. He's the one who sold her, passed her along to the Deads for transport to some fuck past Charlotte who bought the rights to her *. I went after them, and hit 'em just in time. Found them at a shitty motel. They were drunk, blazed outta their minds, not in any condition to fight. I'm surprised they didn't wreck their bikes on the drive down there. I'm not gonna pretend to be the meanest fighter in this club, but it was like shooting fish in a barrel. No lie.”
Joker snorted over in the corner. “You really expect us to believe you're a cowboy, Skin? My little sister couldn't have piled up a bigger load of bullshit.”
He actually sounded pissed. Surprising for the man who never let his guard down, hardly ever cracked his tight-wound, rock solid exterior, whether he was in the thick of battle, or dragging some whore to bed for the night in better times.
“He's right,” Dust said sharply. “I don't buy it, and that means you're in deep shit. So are your friends.”
“Go ahead and put them against the wall too!” I snarled. “Take out the three guys you need to call this MC a proper club. Shit, strip our patches and bury us in a ditch if you think we're all turning rat or defying orders. Prez, if you think I put this club in danger for nothing more than wanting to get my dick wet, you're dead wrong!”
“That's exactly what I think.” Dust leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. “You've always been soft, Skinny boy. That's why I kept you off the big runs, so you could be in the office, managing business. You're not a front-line fighter unless we're in deep shit. You're our support, our rock, too damned smart to wind up like your old man.”
I clenched my jaw when he mentioned Dad. Fucking shit, that cut deep.
Bad enough to hear him acting like I was a goddamned secretary, let alone pretend he was doing me some big fucking favor.
“I've been in a dozen firefights and I've spilled my share of blood for this pistol, Prez. Don't tell me you've forgotten? I was thinking about every single brother here when I decided to haul her home, put my ass on the line. I was doing my job, thinking about the numbers, the lifeblood of this club.” I paused, leaned forward, and spread my hands on his desk. “You think it's * that keeps me up all night? You're wrong. I know what keeps you up, though. You're wondering if we'll have enough in the vault next week to pay the boys their cut so they can keep themselves fed and fuel their bikes.”
“Bullshit. I've never made it a secret how much this club's lifeblood matters to me. Without cold, hard cash, we're fucked. You know it just as much as me, handling the reports.” He looked up, flashing a vicious smile. “Tell me something I don't already know, Skin, before I leave you alone in here with Joker.”
Fuck. I didn't need to turn my head and look at the Veep to know he was looking at me with sadistic anticipation.