CHAPTER 7
I could probably tell you exactly how many hours it’s been since my Fleur was in my arms. I just don’t want to think about it because it makes me feel like I need to punch something. Or, even better, like I’m on the edge of going to Fleur’s house, binding her, and flinging her over my shoulder to hide her away where she won’t be able to get away from us ever again.
I’m not sure if she would like it if I did that, but it’s fucking tempting as hell. Then she would be at our mercy. Then she wouldn’t be able to slip away like a fucking thief.
She took something valuable with her as well, even though it pains me to say it—my heart. I know I’m not alone.
My brothers have been brooding and sulking, barely able to keep their focus on their work.
I know we could storm over to her place and demand she give us answers and then give us her heart in return for the ones she took without asking, but I have a feeling I know what will happen if we do that. She’ll run farther away, no longer feeling safe in her own home, or she’ll deny what we had the night we spent together.
I don’t want either one of those things to happen.
Which is why we’re taking a step back and letting her stew in her own misery without us for a few days. That doesn’t mean there hasn’t been someone watching her because there is. I might be willing to let Fleur think she got away with sneaking out of the bed she was sharing with us, but I would never leave her unprotected.
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to her.
Last night when Gio came home after speaking to one of his many informants in the city, he told us someone is looking for Fleur. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to go over to her place right away, but I kept it together.
I could tell Rocco wasn’t doing much better than I was, but I reminded him she is protected in her home since the security system is top of the line and we have people keeping an eye on her. I could tell he wanted to argue with me, but he must have read the look in my eye because he backed off quickly.
I looked at Gio and studied him. Seeing him on edge made me even more nervous about the whole thing. I tried not to bark at him, but it wasn’t easy to do, “What do we know?”
“I just told you everything I know. He didn’t know who was asking after her. He didn’t know why. He thought the man in question was steered toward Fleur in the first place. If that’s the case, it could be a few people for a few reasons, and I wonder why he wasn’t given all her information from the start.”
I nodded and studied my brother, knowing it was bothering him that he didn’t have more answers. Gio, being both social and a scary motherfucker when he needs to be, has put together an impressive network of people who keep their ears to the ground in the city. We might have a lot of power around here, but keeping it requires us to know what else is being planned.
Even then, we can be blindsided by things.
Like when Viola was abducted. We had no idea it was going to happen. We knew Martinez was making some bigger moves in our city, but we allowed it because he hadn’t come near our business yet. There’s plenty of crime to go around in the city. Some of it we might not touch, but it’s not our duty to keep the other criminals in line with their practices.
When it touches us? That’s something else entirely.
After striding to my car, I put the case in the back, hiding it in the compartment I have in the floor for this exact kind of situation, and then slide behind the wheel to head across town to the DSMC clubhouse. I’ve been the middleman when it comes to deliveries with the club for a long time now.
Gio wasn’t allowed to do it—probably because Dad and then Dante was afraid that he’d get distracted by pussy—and Rocco wasn’t old enough when I took over the task. He would be able to handle it now, but it’s a part of my job I enjoy. I respect the loyalty the brothers have to the club and to the Guidice family.
I’m hoping the relationships I’ve made with the men in the DSMC will help when it comes to announcing Fleur belongs to us.
I can only fucking hope.
To a lesser man, some of the brothers in the club would scare them shitless. I’m not a lesser man, by any stretch, and there’s no way I’m letting go of our woman. I hope that serves me well.
When I pull up to the compound, I give a chin lift to the prospect at the gate which is opened immediately for me. I drive through and park near the front doors of the clubhouse and take a deep breath. I make sure to keep my neutral mask in place because now is not the time to tell the club I’m claiming their princess along with my brothers.
No matter how much I want to stand on the highest roof in New Orleans and yell it loud enough for everyone to hear.
I know Fleur is at her house because I checked on her before I came here, but the possibility of seeing her here, since it is her turf more than it is mine, has my palms fucking sweating. I don’t think we’ll be able to hold out and not see our woman for very much longer.
I need to see her and touch her. I know I’m not the only one suffering while she’s not with us. I have a feeling it’ll only get worse for us the longer we go without seeing her.
We’ve been barely holding on and sniping at each other since the moment we woke up without her in bed with us. Even Gio has been brooding and that isn’t normal for him at all.
I can only hope that giving her a little time and space is the right thing to do.
Walking into the clubhouse after grabbing the case from my trunk, I’m greeted by some of the brothers, and I force myself to greet them like I normally do. Knowing Fleur isn’t around makes it easier on me since I don’t feel the need to look for her, but, damn, I do wish she was here, and I could get a glimpse of her.
Prodigal is standing at the bar and looks over at me when I walk closer. “Hey Leo,” he greets me. I meet his eyes and hope he can’t read in mine that I fucked his sister’s ass not long ago. “Lucifer is in his office.”
“Hey, man,” my voice sounds rough, and I clear my throat. I want to tell him that something has happened between Fleur and my brothers, but until we get her to stop running, I don’t think it would be a good idea. I will make sure that we’re the ones to tell him and Lucifer instead of risking them finding out some other way, but now isn’t the time. “Are you sitting in on the meeting?”
He gives me a chin lift. “Of course.” He nods over my shoulder, and I look over to see Scythe, one of the club’s enforcers, coming my way.
Scythe comes off as an intimidating guy. He has more tattoos than a lot of his brothers and he’s a big dude—tall and muscular. I’ve seen him when he’s in enforcer mode, but I’ve also seen him cut it up with his club brothers.
I give him a nod in greeting before we head toward Lucifer’s office. The moment I step inside, I force myself to push aside all my thoughts about Fleur. There will be time to let the men around me know about what she means to me, but now isn’t the right time.
After opening the case and showing them the new guns we’ve acquired and talking about how many they want and price, I know I need to tell them about what Gio found out. When Viola was in trouble, we asked the DSMC to have our back and it’s only right that they know what is going on in the city.
Considering it involves Fleur, I hate to bring it up, but it would be wrong to keep it from them.
“What’s on your mind, Leonardo?” Lucifer’s deep voice pulls me out of my thoughts which were starting to spiral into rage.
“As you know we’ve had our ear to the ground while using all the people we know who have the ability to hear things.” Lucifer nods and I take a deep breath and brace, knowing he’s not going to like what I have to say. “Martinez is still underground licking his wounds and probably planning something.”
“He’s scum and we’ll have your back against him considering his partnership with the Riding Rebels, who are on our shit list,” his voice is a growl that makes a sinister smile curl on my lips.
There’s nothing better than bonding over mayhem, destruction, and making mutual enemies pay.
Maybe telling him about Fleur belonging to me and my brothers won’t be so bad.
“One of our contacts told us about a man asking around about Fleur,” my voice feels like gravel in my throat as I push the words past my lips.
Lucifer and Prodigal freeze as their eyes harden. I don’t blame them. Their anger becomes a palpable thing as it surrounds us.
Lucifer growls, “What?”
I hold my hands up in front of me. “I don’t have a lot more than that, but we’re looking into it.”
I wish I had more to tell them, but I don’t. I make sure they know that, but I can feel their unease and their anger. It’s the same thing I’m feeling.
I’m not going to be able to allow the distance between my woman and us grow much more than it already has. There’s an itch under my skin telling me I need to keep her safe.
Scythe, trying to ease the tension in the room, slaps my back after we’ve been silent for too long. “How about coming to The Sanctuary. A few of us are heading over to check on things and have a drink.”
I look at Prodigal and he gives a sharp nod to indicate he’s going to be there even though I have a feeling he’d rather be at home with Wrenley. I give Scythe a chin lift and we end the meeting, the tension from the bomb I’ve dropped in the room still there because there is nothing we can do without more information.
I know how much security Fleur has in her home and her brother and father don’t need to know I have her covered whenever she goes anywhere. I’m sure they’ll try to do the same, but Fleur won’t like having a prospect or a club brother watching over her. My men will stick to the shadows, and she won’t even know they’re there.
By the time we head out and enter The Sanctuary, a historic church the DSMC converted into a bar, none of the tension has left me. I know I’m wound too tight, but there’s not much I can do about it right now.
Tack, the Sargeant at Arms for the club, sits down at the bar next to me and lands a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You look like you’re about to go on a rampage, man. You good?”
I try and roll some of the strain from my neck and shoulders, but it doesn’t do a damn bit of good. Not even throwing back the whiskey the bartender puts down in front of me does the trick. When I look back up at the bartender, she’s giving me ‘come fuck me’ eyes and the Hammond Whiskey in my stomach churns.
“Just some shit on my mind,” I deflect, and he nods sagely like he knows what I’m talking about.
“I can’t believe she’s the club princess,” a voice says from a little way down the bar and my head snaps in that direction. My gaze narrows on the guy wearing a prospect cut. “She’s sexy as fuck.”
Before I can think about it, I’m up and closing the distance between us. My tone is menacing, “What the fuck did you just say?”
He must not have any sense of self-preservation because he just shrugs. “Hey man. I don’t think I’ve met you before.” He sticks his hand out between us even though my fists are clenched at my sides. “I’m Trent. I’m a new prospect.”
I remember hearing something about some prospects—Poe, Gray, and Zach—being patched in over the last few months which means the club opened up to new guys who want to do shit work for the chance to become part of the brotherhood. I narrow my eyes at the guy in front of me and the easy grin on his face slides off. He looks around, maybe expecting someone to come to his rescue. I know they won’t.
“I was just saying I saw Fleur, the club princess,” there’s a question in his tone that I don’t respond to, “and she’s hot.”
My fist meets his face before I can stop myself or even consider if I’m showing my hand too early. Trent drops to the floor, out cold. When I look up, I meet Prodigal’s eyes and see recognition and surprise there before he walks away from the bar and out the door of The Sanctuary.
Well, shit.