“‘Bout damn time. Hell, my balls were turning blue watching you two pussyfoot around each other,” Sabre says.
“Pussyfoot? What the fuck, man? What the hell does that even mean?” Briar asks.
“That means your old lady’s been broke by a foot-long dick,” Shaft says.
“Fuck you motherfucker,” Briar grumbles, flipping Shaft the bird.
“Can you fuckwads tell me what we’ve found out about Colin or are you just going to gossip like a bunch of old ladies all night?”
“Damn, I don’t remember you getting so bitchy when you get sex. Someone pass the boss a candy bar.”
“Torch,” I growl.
“You’re not yourself when you’re hungry, boss.”
“Christo!” The men laugh, but eventually settle down. When the serious face comes over Torch, I know I need to be worried. “Spill it,” I tell him, my hand tightening into a fist while I wait.
“Boss, the Chrome Saints have moved into that textiles factory that went out of business last year.”
“What the fuck? They moved less than two hundred miles from us and I’m just finding out about this shit now?” I yell, standing up and knocking the chair behind me to the floor.
“Shit, boss, I don’t know. Dragon had no idea either.”
“Dragon doesn’t have the fucking history with these sons of bitches like we do! Does Diesel know they’re this fucking close?”
“He does now, but in his defense, his club’s been handling some of their own shit. Some fruitcake bitch kidnapped his Ry,” Torch says, and my stomach clenches. Diesel’s son was kidnapped? Mierda, what would I have done if that was Gabby?
“How am I just hearing of this? Why didn’t we help him?”
“He didn’t reach out, boss. He locked it down and dealt with it in-house. I guess he knew the bitch,” Torch says.
I rake my hand through my hair. “Everything around me is going nuts. Do we think Colin is making his move with Viper and the Saints as his muscle?” I ask, because the Saints have always been the Donahue’s lackeys.
“That was our first thought, boss, but that’s not the reports we’re getting.”
“What reports?”
“Word is that Viper’s old man, Tucker, stripped him of the gavel and took the club back over.”
“Christo! Really?” I’m almost grinning. I hate that rat-bastard Viper.
“It gets even more interesting, boss. The old bastard has declared war on the Donahues.”
“Que diablos esta pasando?”
“The old bastard wants to talk to you, boss. He says he’ll make it worth your while.”
“Son of a bitch doesn’t have one thing I want,” I tell him with certainty.
“He says he knows where Colin Donahue is and he will deliver the man’s head on a silver platter for you.”
“So why doesn’t he?”
“He wants something.”
“Don’t they always. What the fuck does he want?”
“He won’t tell me. He says he’ll only talk to you. He requested you meet him at Psychotic Ruby’s.”
“Jesús.” I think it over. Ruby’s is a fucking hole-in-the-wall bar. We don’t do a lot of business there because Ruby is truly psychotic and she owns that shit. “When?” I growl, wondering if it’s not a trap, but I need to do anything I can to get my hands on Colin.
“Tomorrow night,” Torch tells me.
I rub the tension between my eyes and think it over. “Beast, you and Torch are going with me. Sabre, you’re here watching over the club and my family.” He wants to argue, I can see it, but he wisely shuts that shit down. “The rest of you will be Sabre’s backup.”
“Just the three of us, boss? You sure you can trust Tucker enough that we aren’t walking into a trap?”
“You don’t have enough balls to think the three of us can handle whatever they dish?” I challenge him.
“Fuck you,” Torch gripes, and I flip him off. I should tell him, Sabre, and Beast about the fact that there’s a plant in the club, but I just can’t yet. I’ll get Colin taken care of, then I’ll handle that shit before I just tell them all to fuck it.
“Arrange it. Set it up for six that evening, though. I’m not about to drive through that damn town after dark, not with Colin out there somewhere.”
“Got it.”
“Good. Now if you bitches will excuse me, I’m taking my daughter and wife out for the rest of the day,” I tell them, and I give them my back as the assholes are saying shit to me. It’s the closest thing I’ve been to happy in fucking years.
I’ve got Beth back; the mere thought makes me smile.
“Did I tell you what a great fucking day I had with you and Gabby, mi cielo?”
“I can’t remember,” I tell him jokingly.
“Best fucking day ever,” he tells me, letting his finger drift through my hair. We’re lying in bed and it’s late, but I don’t want to go to sleep. I want to capture this whole day and not let go of it.
“I think so too,” I whisper shyly. “I’m almost afraid to go to sleep.”
“Afraid it is a dream?” he asks me.