Chapter Nine
Bully
Smiler takes the floor, clearing his throat before projecting a picture from his iPad onto the wall. “Fuck me, technology has advanced,” mutters Tally. “Imagine Joker using this shit,” he adds, shaking his head with a smirk.
“My dad wouldn’t entertain a smartphone,” I remind him, “so this would’ve blown his mind.”
“Right, this is the floor we set fire to,” Smiler says, pointing out the charred remains of the lower ground. “And now, they’re living up here,” he adds, pointing to the first and second floor. “Lords did some outreach work this past week,” he continues, nodding to Lords, who stands.
“I was on the streets with the youth workers. I was right about spice being rife on the streets. Hospital admissions have risen by twenty percent since Dagger and his men have been on the scene. Arrests for public disorder from using spice have also risen.”
“And there’s no one else who could be pushing that shit?” I ask.
Smiler shakes his head. “No one else would dare, not without running it by the club. I’ve had feelers out all week, and it all points back to the Scorpions. Besides, no one else has the manpower to get that shit out so quickly apart from us.”
“Are they using runners?” asks Taz.
“That’s my next job, start shaking some dealers and see what we get.”
“I want everyone on this,” I cut in. “Take as many men as needed.”
“It still doesn’t answer the question as to why the fuck they’ve rolled up here,” says Boss.
“I think Taz was right,” I reply, rubbing a hand over my brow. “They saw an opportunity when Hawk died. Maybe they thought the club would drop into chaos with no leader.” I glance to Taz and grin. “No offence.”
“Some taken,” he says, grinning back. “But they were wrong. You’re here, and we need to make it clear they’re not welcome.”
“Smiler, come up with the plans to start banging on doors. I need to go and chase my old lady down before she goes AWOL.” I head for the door.
“You need backup?” Taz quips.
I laugh as I head upstairs to the bedroom.
I pause in the doorway. The bed is littered with discarded clothes, and Liv’s makeup is spread out on the dresser.
“Liv?” I call.
No answer.
I groan and head downstairs, praying she’s in the bar. But when I find that empty too, a sharp bolt of panic spikes through my chest. I pull out my mobile and call her.
“Hey,” she answers, light, breezy, like nothing’s wrong.
“Hey yourself. Where are you, Liv?” My voice is tight.
“I told you, I’m out with the girls.”
“You’re supposed to be home.” I try to keep my voice level, but the edge is already there. “You know what's going on with the Scorpions.”
“I’m not a prisoner, and I’m not hiding just because some wankers are revving their engines,” she says, casual as anything. I hear laughter in the background. Glasses clinking. A low beat from the music. The girls.
“Liv,” her name comes out low, rough, “this isn’t a joke. I told you to stay in for a reason.”
“And I told you, I’m not being that woman. You think I’m safer holed up in the club with your men?”
“Safer than out there, yeah.” I pace to the door, shoving it open and scanning the street like I might see her. “You have any idea what could go down tonight?”
“I have a right to live my life, not just sit in a box while you and your club handle everything your way. Before you got out, I did this all the time.” There’s steel in her voice now, but it’s the wrong kind. Not fear, not defiance. Challenge.
I press my fingers to my temple, trying to breathe past the fury knotting in my gut. “Where. Are. You?”
“Don’t you use that tone with me.”
“I’m coming to get you.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Too late.”
I hang up, already halfway to the bike. “Taz,” I call, throwing my leg over the bike. He appears in seconds. “Liv’s gone. I need to get her back here. Oversee Smiler’s plan, and I’ll join you soon as I’m done.”
“You’re not going alone,” he says firmly, putting his fingers in his mouth and whistling loud enough to get the brothers’ attention. “Smiler, plan’s on hold. We got an old lady to find,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads for his bike.
Smiler and Boss rush out, and as I put my helmet on, I smile. I’ve missed the solidarity of my brothers.
Olivia
“There’s a tracker on my phone,” I tell Bria as we line up for the bathroom, “but I turned my phone off, so he shouldn’t find me, right?”
“Right,” she says, smirking.
“You think he will?”
“I think he knows all your tricks and he’s probably one step ahead.”
“Well, I don’t care,” I snap, pushing down the slight panic in my chest. “He’s got to relax and realise I’m not in danger twenty-four-seven. Seriously, what can happen in a busy bar?”
A sharp, unnatural pop cracks through the noise of the bar.
We both freeze.
Then another pop, louder this time, and suddenly, the air shifts. Music cuts out. Screams erupt like an explosion. People shouting. Panic.
Bria grabs my hand, nails digging into my skin. “What the fuck is that?” she whispers, her face draining of colour.
Another pop. Then a shatter. Glass—maybe a bottle, maybe a window—crashes somewhere out front. The sounds come fast now . . . thudding boots, overturned chairs, more shouting. Angry voices. Male. Too many.
And then the bathroom door slams open so hard, it ricochets off the tiled wall.
Darren fills the doorway like a nightmare, face hard, eyes scanning, jaw tight.
“You need to move,” he growls. He looks like violence, like barely restrained fury in a leather cut.
And for the first time tonight, I realise just how badly I’ve fucked up.
“What’s . . . what’s happening?” I ask, my voice trembling.
He closes the door, and suddenly, the room feels a hell of a lot smaller. He leans against it. “Get in the cubicle,” he orders.
Bria drags me in, and Darren begins to pull it closed, his eyes reaching mine. There’s a hint of something . . . guilt maybe? “Don’t come out, no matter what.”
“Why? I don’t understand.”
He goes to leave, and I reach out without thinking, grabbing onto his wrist. He pauses, staring at where we touch for a second before raising his eyes to mine again. “You might get hurt,” I whisper.
A smile pulls at his lips. “Don’t worry about me, beautiful. But if you want to see tomorrow, you can’t come out of here until the police come. Got me?” I nod, and he rubs a thumb over my cheek, smiling. “Good girl.”
Once he’s gone, I close the cubicle door and turn to Bria. “What the fuck’s going on?” I whisper, taking my phone from my back pocket.
“I’m still tripping on the good girl comment,” she says, practically swooning.
I scowl. “Bria, focus.”
She fans her face. “Sorry.”
Bully
I jump off the bike, boots hitting the pavement hard, and take in the chaos around me. The bar is taped off and flashing blue lights paint the night in warning. Police everywhere.
“Jesus,” mutters Taz as he pulls up beside me. “What the fuck happened?”
I’m already moving. Fast. Straight toward the tape.
An officer steps in my path, arm out. “You can’t go in there.”
“My wife might be in there,” I snap, louder than I mean to.
“We’re still getting people out. Be patient.”
“Patient?” I growl, jaw locked tight. “What the fuck happened?”
Before I can shove past him, Smiler grips my arm, pulling me back just enough to stop me doing something stupid. “Relax,” he murmurs in my ear. “Boss is on it. He’s making calls now.”
Then I hear it.
“Bully?”
Her voice cuts through everything—the noise, the panic, the adrenaline. I spin just in time to catch Liv as she barrels into me, arms and legs wrapping around me like she’s never letting go. I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in.
“You had me fucking worried,” I mutter against her temple.
I open my eyes and clock Bria standing nearby, pale but smirking, and a couple other women behind her looking sheepish. I lower Liv slowly to the ground, keeping my hands on her shoulders, scanning her for blood, bruises, anything. She looks fine, uninjured.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing?” I snap. She flinches, and my heart cracks, but the fear, the fury, they’re boiling over. “This is why I told you to stay at the clubhouse.”
She straightens, her shoulders squaring, her chin jutting out slightly. “I’m fine.”
“Pres,” Boss calls, striding over. “Bar was shot up. Scorpions.”
“No,” Liv cuts in, her voice sharp. “It wasn’t them.”
I freeze. “You saw who did it?”
She hesitates then glances down. That silence presses in like a vice.
“I saw Dagger,” she says finally, voice quiet. “He found us in the bathroom. Told us to stay put ‘til the cops showed.”
I blink. “Sorry, what?”
She shrugs, but it’s stiff. “He . . . he found us in the bathroom.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to slow my thoughts before they spiral into violence. “You spoke to him?” Bria snorts a half-giggle. I turn my gaze on her, slow and cold, and the amusement dies on her lips. “Don’t hold back,” I say, my voice like ice.
“It’s nothing,” Liv snaps, throwing her sister a warning glare.
“If you don’t tell me the truth, he will,” I bite out. “And he’ll do it with that smug fucking grin, and that will piss me off more and I’ll do something stupid, something to stop him grinning ever again. So, Liv, what did he say that’s got your sister acting like a giddy teenager?”
She hesitates. “He just called me beautiful.” My stomach twists. Rage flares like a flame to fuel.
Bria jumps in, her tone singsong. “He touched her cheek and called her beautiful,” she says, smiling wide. “And then he called her his good girl.”
My vision tunnels, blood roaring in my ears. Dagger had his hands on her. And he fucking smiled while he did it. I clench my fists so tight, my knuckles crack. My jaw’s wired shut, teeth grinding like a slow-burn fuse.
Dagger touched her.
He called her beautiful.
He fucking called her his good girl.
“I’ll kill him,” I whisper. Not a threat, a promise. My voice is calm in the way a loaded gun is calm.