Chapter 24
Cruz
I push inside what used to be the boardroom, or conference room for the flour factory that the club later renovated.
They left it pretty much the same, and I’m not sure if that’s because the room had the right aura and fit, or if the furniture wouldn’t go through the door so it was easier to build and change the place around the room than it was to shape the room around the club.
The massive wooden table in the middle is full, most of the guys seated around it.
Generally, only patched in brothers attend church, but this is so personal—with most of our houses and businesses being hit—that even the prospects have been allowed to sit in on this.
Tyrant is at the head of the table, and right beside him, Raiden sits in his usual seat.
After that, most of the guys don’t have regular chairs.
My eyes slowly scan around the table. The other prospects are standing, holding up the wall with their arms crossed over their chests, so that’s where I am too.
I don’t know Elijah, Mont, Shane, and Owen like I know Liam.
Elijah is the youngest, while Owen is in his sixties.
To get into a club, we all generally start out the same way, no matter what our age.
They’re good guys, and right now, they have that same look that most of the guys around the table have—pissed with a little bit of worry around the edges.
This is our home, and this gang came here and fucked with us.
There’s not a single person in this room who is okay with that.
Tyrant, though, is relaxed at the head of the table.
He doesn’t have to give anyone a big pep-talk before the call starts.
Wizard has the big screen pulled down and his laptop on the table.
When the call goes through, I guess that we’ll be able to watch the video on a grand scale.
I wonder how many of us will be displayed in turn.
Likely everyone. And I have no doubt that someone on their end is probably running our images through a database.
It’s smart that Tyrant didn’t want Liam here.
Maybe the gang members never laid eyes on him, but soon enough, the link to the nightclub would show up.
Though we’re all different people in this room, we look like an unmistakable united front with all our leather jackets, vests, patches, and jeans.
When I walked in, Wizard had obviously been briefing the guys about the gang for a good while.
I know that the gang doesn’t have an official name, and that they often call themselves Jackals after their leader, William Jackal, though I’m sure that’s not his real name.
Liam’s called them small time, a growing force in Seattle that didn’t have too much trouble taking territory and buying up property because there’s a good deal of empty space for criminal enterprises in the city.
I don’t know if that’s fully true or not.
I only have what Liam’s told me to go on.
I don’t have much time to listen to Wizard before the call comes through and the massive screen lights up at the front of the room.
I can tell that a few of the younger guys expected a more gangster looking man than the clean-cut one in the black suit presents.
The guy is young, probably not more than thirty, and looks like he’s heading into the office for the day.
Maybe he is.
Although, we’re talking about a gang here and not the true criminals in business and politics, so maybe not.
I have no doubt this is William Jackal himself.
Despite his youth, he exudes authority. His eyes are deep brown, trending on black, and his dark hair is styled like he’s about to step onto a magazine shoot.
“Satan’s Angels,” Jackal says with derision. “I only have one question to start, and how you answer will determine what follows. Are you looking for a war? Because if the answer is yes then you’ll be finished.”
Tyrant doesn’t rise to the insult. He stays calm. I realize that from the direction Wizard’s laptop is pointing, Tyrant and Raiden are likely the only men that William can see. Maybe Odin too, given that he’s sitting on the other side of Tyrant.
“We’re not lookin’ for a war.” Tyrant’s voice is always so smooth, confident, and reassuring. His face gives little away, but from where I’m standing, it’s surprisingly open and friendly. He appears sincere, a man of honor, because he is.
“Why hack us then?”
Wizard stands up and walks behind Tyrant, confirming my suspicion about that side of the room being the only part on camera.
I don’t know if Wizard talked this through with Tyrant beforehand, but it’s a surprise to more than a few of us.
A low murmur goes through the room, and guys shift restlessly in their seats.
“One of our club girls got into some trouble a couple of weeks ago. Some guy at a nightclub wouldn’t take no for an answer. She didn’t go to the cops because they wouldn’t do anything. So I wanted to see if I could get eyes on,” Wizard says.
My eyebrows raise at that. I hadn’t thought of Wizard as a bullshitter, but the way he says it seems convincing enough.
“You didn’t think to come to me?” Jackal asks.
Wizard gives a casual shrug. “Didn’t know what I’d find.”
“And what did you find?” Jackal’s eyes narrow. It looks like he’s buying the story, but I can’t be sure.
“Nothing. I checked the video footage, but I couldn’t see anything. Guess you scrubbed the tapes for that night.”
I didn’t think there was much that could get Jackal going, but he’s clearly stunned. “Do you have a death wish or are you simply that stupid?”
“That stupid,” Wizard says, and at least he has the decency to appear like he’s ashamed.
Tyrant clears his throat, drawing the attention back to him. “Like I said, we don’t want any trouble, and we certainly don’t want a war. You’re in Seattle. We’re not, and we’re not looking to make a move. My man acted without thinking, he should have come to me.”
Jackal’s eyes narrow. We’re likely all thinking that we know the way he’d deal with one of his men who disappointed him. “I don’t think that’s the entire truth. Who hired you?”
“No one hired us. We have no connections with any organizations in Seattle. Your business there is your own,” Tyrant states flatly.
“But you know everything now. You’ve seen all our files. What guarantees your silence?”
“My word.”
“Your word?” Jackal laughs, an unpleasant, creepy sound.
“Is that not all a man truly has?” Tyrant argues back. He remains emotionless, likely pissing Jackal off to no end.
“Your word,” Jackal scoffs. “You’ve got fucking balls.”
“We made a mistake. We should have come to you, but we didn’t want to involve anyone else in club business, and that’s what this was.
Club business. We have no interest in your operations.
We both go on with our lives. You know about us, we know about you.
That alone is enough to guarantee each other’s silence and continued peace. ”
“But you’ll no doubt be keeping a copy of everything you found. It wasn’t just our security feed you hacked into.”
“Secured, yes,” Wizard says without hesitation. “Didn’t you just say it was foolish to take a man at his word?”
Tyrant immediately backs Wizard. “This is insurance against any future violence. You’ve come here, you destroyed our property. We’ll pay to fix it ourselves, as a gesture of goodwill.”
“That’s it then? We just trust you?”
“As we will have to trust you.”
Jackal’s eyes dart to the side. I wonder who’s standing there? His second? Men like him normally don’t have anyone they answer to. Maybe it’s his own guy. The one who hacked into our shit. “We could use some allies and manpower in the future.”
“We’re not that kind of club. We don’t hire out,” Tyrant responds quickly.
“It’s too bad. Your man has some skills. He’s stupid, but he’s good.”
“Not good enough that you didn’t find out,” Wizard says, but gently, like he’s not correcting Jackal or throwing anything back in his face.
It’s obvious to all of us that Wizard knows where he went wrong with the security, the one tiny little spot left open and vulnerable, and that it will be fixed directly moving forward.
Jackal shakes his head. “Like I said, the goddamn balls on you all.”
Tyrant crosses his arms and stares the screen down. “Hopefully we never have to speak again.”
“That is my hope as well.” It sounds like Jackal means it.
“That’s it, then. We’ll end this call.”
Jackal laughs, that nasty oily sound again. He clearly wants the last word. “A word of advice, from one leader to another—discipline your men. All the trouble this has caused… it was senseless.”
Tyrant merely nods and holds Jackal’s gaze steadily until Wizard walks around and ends the call.
I’m not sure what to expect, but if it’s a debriefing, that’s not coming at the moment.
Tyrant will need some time to think about this and speak to his other offices.
Likely, there’ll be new security measures in place.
Who knows if anyone can trust a guy like Jackal.
I would say not, but he didn’t seem eager for a war, despite his big talk about obliteration.
If he wanted to use his manpower to wipe out this club, he would have done it.
Maybe he’s only a small fish in a big pond and despite his talk, he doesn’t want trouble.
The men file out slowly, the prospects leaving first, in case there’s a conversation to be had in that room between Tyrant, Raiden, and some of the other officers. We know that they’ll do right by us, and none of us want to have to be told to leave.
I walk as fast as I can back to my room, to Liam and to Sloane. Whether Jackal can be trusted or not, this seems like the best outcome anyone could have hoped for.
I half expect a debriefing when I get back to my room, but the first thing Liam does is stop pacing and walk right over to me.
He sticks out his hand and claps me on the shoulder.
“However that went down, I want to thank you for being my friend. You were stubborn about me doing the right thing and telling everyone the truth. You stood by me, and you’ve protected my mom.
Whatever else happens, that’s true brotherhood. ”
I’m a little unnerved, and I’m not the best when it comes to all sorts of emotions. I’m classically even worse at trying to find words, so I thump Liam on the back in that manly, affectionate way. “It went about as good as it could. There’s a truce. I think it’ll hold. Tyrant will make sure.”
Liam studies me, searching for something in my face.
I’m not sure what, and he grins and flicks his eyes behind him, toward his mom.
“We talked while you were in the meeting. About the café and about the club, and more than that. Some of the old ladies dropped by earlier and I think they put Mom’s mind at rest about some things.
Anyway, I’m gonna go offer to help again, in any way that I can. ”
Liam leaves us alone in the room like he did before, with far more confidence than guilt weighing him down.
He can’t undo what’s already been done, but he can change what he does going forward.
That feeling of pride washes through me again.
I’m proud to have a man like Liam as a friend.
He won’t just grow into a good man. He already is one.
I expect to have to find words all over again to tell Sloane about the meeting, or to give her reassurances about the café, a timeline for repairs—just something to get her moving forward and feeling better, but whatever she and Liam discussed, there’s a light in her eyes.
She closes the distance between us and reaches up, taking my face between her warm palms.
“I don’t need you to find perfect words, Cruz. Or any, if you don’t want to. No matter what happens, I’ll always be happy with you beside me. You were the greatest, most unexpected gift.”
Holy shit, what did Sloane, Liam, and the old ladies talk about?
Not that this is new. Sloane always has that inner light, that peace, that confidence.
She’s like plunging into cold water on a hot day, dousing all my worries, a balm to the wounds inside of me that haven’t ever properly healed over.
I could live with them, but maybe I was waiting all this time to find her before they closed over completely.
I needed her. I needed someone to see me, to understand me, to hear me, to want me, and eventually, to love me.
“Whenever you can’t find the words, you can kiss me instead,” she says, smiling up at me so softly. She’s so beautiful that it sucks the breath right out of my lungs.
“That sounds like a pretty good bargain.” I tip her face up and kiss her, slow at first, then deeper, with more hunger.
I’ll find words for her too, but just because I’ll dredge them up doesn’t mean that I won’t enjoy the hell out of kissing her breathless first.