Chapter 16
He was more than an hour late for work. Twister didn’t make a habit of taking advantage of his crew, but in this case—it was so damn worth it.
The look on Ali’s face when she saw that coffee machine had him wondering what else he could do to surprise his little spitfire who smelled like wildflowers.
And that’s who she was. His Ali .
He could hardly put it into words, but that morning, he was certain the woman who called him daddy wasn’t Phoenix. In the heat of the moment, her legs spread and her surrender complete, he’d been granted access to the woman underneath all that bravado.
And, damn, was she beautiful.
That machine was the best seven hundred dollars he’d spent in a long time.
He hadn’t seen this coming, but he wasn’t pussy whipped.
It was more than that. She had a hold on him he had no interest in shaking.
He wanted only to grab hold of her just as tight.
He’d yet to unearth her whole story; he didn’t know the depth of her pain—but he knew there was something about her, something fierce that called to him.
She didn’t need rescuing, which was a good thing—‘cause he was no savior.
But she deserved better. She deserved to be appreciated, admired, and respected. She deserved to be loved.
He couldn’t say where they were headed or for how long. He couldn’t claim he was the right man to love her—but she sure did make him want to try.
It was a fucking miracle.
Twister rolled onto the compound twenty minutes before the top of the hour. Slick had a set of keys and had opened up the store without him. His staff respected him and their livelihood enough that he knew when he arrived, everything would be fine.
So far as the store was concerned, he was right.
He barely stepped foot through the front doors when his phone began to ring. It was Bull calling, and he answered without delay.
“Yeah?”
“Need a word. Got a minute?”
Twister glanced around the store then replied, “Yeah. We doin’ this over the phone?”
“Meet you at the clubhouse in five.”
“Copy.”
As he disconnected the call, he made his way out the door through which he just entered. Not five minutes later, he was seated at the table in the Stallions’ conference room when Bull walked in, shutting the door behind him.
“I’m guessin’ this isn’t about Shadow, or else you would have said so on the phone.”
“You’re right. Though, we do need to handle that vote this weekend. Can’t leave the kid hangin’,” Bull replied as he pulled out a chair for himself. “The sooner he gets his patch and ink, the better. He’s a loose end we can’t afford right now.”
Twister furrowed his brow.
“Alright. Why do I suddenly get the feelin’ I’m not gonna like what you have to say?”
“‘Cause you’re not stupid.”
“What is it, then?”
“Rumor has it, Scorpion’s managed to get himself an early release.”
Twister leaned back in his chair, completely caught off guard by this news.
“Shit. We were supposed to have another year.”
“So far it’s just a rumor. Heard it from Dog this mornin’. Already put Lexi on it. I expect I’ll have some sort of confirmation by the end of the day.”
Twister didn’t respond right away but let the news sink in.
Scorpion was the former president of the Wild Stallions Motorcycle Club until things started to get out of hand.
He became a recluse, addicted to drugs, on a mission to run the club into the ground.
It had been Bull who led the charge to right the ship.
His takeover had been hostile. There wasn’t a ranked member among them who hadn’t been there for the fight.
Lives had been lost. Allegiances had shifted. It wasn’t easy—but it was right.
Rather than resort to murder to get Scorpion out of the way, Bull figured out how to get him put behind bars for drug possession. After his trial, everyone knew his seven-year sentence was a temporary solution—but it was enough time for Bull to establish himself as their leader.
“Six years he’s been hardly more than a ghost, livin’ down the street,” muttered Twister, speaking of the Campbell County Detention Center. “You know he’s gonna come back to haunt us?”
“I called you in here, didn’t I?” Bull shot back with a quirked eyebrow. “I’m not worried, but I’m also far from dumb. We need to have a game plan.”
Twister nodded, propped his forearm against the table, and leaned toward his president.
“Would love to sit here and tell you we don’t have an allegiance problem.
As far as our chapter is concerned, I’m pretty damn certain.
But given what happened with Viper, somethin’ tells me it would be short-sighted of us to assume. ”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Twister nodded. “Guess that means I’m hittin’ the road.”
“Not sure how much time we’ve got. With any luck, the judicial system will drag its feet, and we’ll have a few weeks’ head start.”
“Not we— me, ” insisted Twister. “Wrangler, too, if you can spare him. The way I see it, you comin’ along for the ride is a heavier hand than we need. We’ll take our time. Spend a few days with each chapter. Do a little recon, party a little, make sure we’re good, and then move on.”
“Yeah, alright. I’ll speak with Wrangler soon as we’re done here.”
“And Shadow?”
“We’ll convene for the vote tonight. We’ll party tomorrow. You’ll roll out Sunday. Gives you a little time to get your affairs in order before you ride.”
Twister studied Bull, both amused and curious about his word choice.
“My affairs? ”
“Word is that redhead is startin’ to tame you.”
Twister barked out a laugh, but he didn’t deny it. He knew better than to lie to the man next to him.
He hadn’t spent the night at the clubhouse in more than a few days. His president might have been a homebody himself, but that never meant he didn’t always have his finger on the pulse of the clubhouse.
While Bull seemed to be smiling underneath his curly ‘stache, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he added, “Don’t know whether to wish you luck or wish you well.”
“Little of both, I reckon,” said Twister as he stood.
“Sounds about right,” Bull replied, joining him on his feet.
As they both made their way for the exit, Twister brought them back to the matter at hand. “Let me know what you find out from Lexi.”
“Will do. Spread the word about tonight. I’ll get Winnie and the girls started on party shit.”
“Sounds good.”