Chapter Seven
Prime
Shay was scared.
Not crying or shaking scared, but scared in a way that could change her. The kind of fear that made people go quiet, still, and inward.
I didn’t like that.
Fear could be controlled.
Muted.
Redirected.
Silence? Silence meant she was trying to carry it alone.
Not happening.
“Stay close,” I told her as we headed toward the main room.
“I’m glued to you,” she muttered.
“Good.”
She didn’t argue.
The second we stepped inside, the club shifted. Every man in that room was already on edge from the psycho sighting.
Pearl saw us first. She was standing by the coffee pot, and her face softened when she saw Shay.
“You okay?” she asked as we walked up to her.
Shay nodded. “Uh, I think so.”
Pearl reached out and squeezed her shoulder gently. “We’ve got you.”
Anchor came down the hallway at that exact moment, phone in hand, and looked like he’d barely slept. His gaze tracked the room once and landed back on us.
“Perimeter sweep?” he asked.
“Skull called me five minutes ago. He, Vin, and Wannabe are making a loop now,” I said. “No fresh tracks from what I’ve heard so far.”
“I had Lost check all of the other windows of the clubhouse this morning. Nothing seemed disturbed. This guy knew exactly where Shay was.”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered. I had figured this guy knew he was knocking on Shay’s window, but I had half hoped he had just gone around to every window until he found her. No such luck.
Anchor shifted his eyes to Shay. “You’re staying with Prime for now. I don’t want you out of his sight for a second, and I’ll also have Lost always within twenty feet of you guys.”
“You think that is necessary?” I asked. “I can keep Shay safe.”
Anchor sighed. “Yeah, and Bob thought the same thing about Bernice, and now she’s dead and he’s in the hospital fighting for his life. You have Lost on your twenty, and I’m going to have Push on mine. We’re teaming up even if you think we shouldn’t.”
“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Pearl said. “I don’t want to plan anyone else’s celebration of life.”
“I agree,” Shay said.
I could tell that it was on the tip of Anchor’s tongue to tell them they didn’t have a say in club business, but he just nodded.
Anchor’s jaw ticked once, then he looked around the room like he was carving the order straight into the damn walls.
“No one is alone,” he said, voice low but absolute.
“Not for a second. We watch each other’s backs.
If you need to take a piss, someone goes with you.
If you want coffee, someone goes with you. We move in pairs. Clear?”
A chorus of “yeah,” “got it,” and “absolutely” answered back.
Shay stayed close enough that her shoulder brushed mine. Her breathing was steady, but that fear still lived behind her eyes.
Pearl exhaled slowly, then bumped Anchor with her hip. “C’mon. I think it’s your turn to cook breakfast today.”
Anchor grunted. “Yeah, and I’m breaking that promise. You’re not doing anything alone. We’re eating whatever we can shove in the toaster.”
Pearl rolled her eyes. “I’m making French toast for everyone. No reason why we can’t eat good.”
“You’re not exactly the best cook, babe,” Anchor reminded her.
Pearl shrugged. “Might as well learn now, right? Not like there is much else to do.”
She grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the kitchen. Anchor followed, grumbling but watching her like she might vanish if he blinked.
Shay let out a long, slow breath as we made our way to the bar. I slid onto a stool, and she sank onto the one beside me.
“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
She surprised me with a tiny, genuine nod. “Yeah. Actually… yeah. Hearing Anchor lay out rules like that? It helps. Makes me feel like… I don’t know. Like there’s a plan now.”
“There was always a plan,” I said. “But this tightens it. Should’ve happened earlier.”
Her eyes flicked up. “You think it would’ve saved Bernice? Or Bob?”
My chest tightened. “I think it would’ve made it harder for that bastard to get as close as he did.” I sighed. “If we’d been doubling up before… maybe things would look different now.”
Shay swallowed. “How’s Bob? Really?”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “He’s doing okay. Can’t speak. They’re keeping him sedated so he can heal. Doc says he’ll probably be in the hospital a couple more weeks.”
She absorbed that quietly, twisting the hem of her hoodie.
“ANCHOR!” I yelled over my shoulder.
His head popped out of the kitchen doorway, a mug of coffee in hand as he watched Pearl flipping slices of French toast like he’d never seen anything so important.
“What?”
“What about Bob?” I asked.
“Cross is headed to the hospital now,” Anchor called back. “He’s staying with him until he’s released.”
I nodded once. “Good call.”
Anchor disappeared again, and Pearl shooed him away from the stove with a flick of her towel. “You need to go sit down because you are going to distract me, and I need all the focus I can muster on this French toast. Shoo.”
Shay turned back to me, her voice soft. “What do you plan on doing today?”
I shrugged and rested my forearm on the bar. “Not much. But whatever I do,” I tilted my head toward her, making sure she saw I meant every damn word. “you’ll be with me.”
She didn’t argue.
Didn’t try to pretend she didn’t need it.
She just leaned her arm against mine and nodded. “I like that plan.”