Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
DARE
I lift my gavel and slam it down to begin the meeting. Church is now in session. The room is standing room only, and for the first time in years, it’s an officers-only meeting. We won’t be voting on anything.
We won’t be doing anything except discussing the Russians, my woman, and the baby. My baby. I still don’t know how to think of him. He will be here in just a few months, and for now, he’s a baby coming into my life, but I don’t feel any ownership over him, not like I do with Chassis.
This is a discussion that can’t happen over the phone. It needs to be face to face, with strategic plans in place that we can implement if need be or discuss and vote on when the time comes.
“The reason I brought you all here like this, and Cake already knows, is because Chassis is having a boy,” I begin.
The entire room erupts into applause, except for me, Cake, Piston, Gauge, Clutch, Wrath, and the few guys who know I’m not the goddamn father of said baby. I wait for the applause and excitement to fade before I continue.
“It would be a great thing if the baby’s father weren’t a high-standing member of the Perov Bratva. He manipulated Chassis into a relationship, which resulted in the baby. He knows of the baby’s existence, but that’s all.
“He doesn’t know where she is, but our current involvement with the Perovs makes this a bit… complicated. Their leader knows she’s here, and I have no doubt that if he wanted to, he would use that to his advantage when and if he chose to.”
Hippie stands slightly, and I jerk my chin toward him, giving him the floor. He sinks back down in his seat before he begins to speak. He’s got a question, and I don’t blame him. I’ve got questions, too, but nobody to really ask, so I’ll take his.
“So now it’s a boy, we’re thinking he might come after Chassis and the baby?” Hippie asks.
I dip my chin in a single nod, but it’s Cake who speaks next. “He was working with Chassis as an opportunity to attempt to get to us, to have us be part of their drug trafficking. He’s a manipulative piece of shit. I don’t even know where he fits into their organization.”
“So this is preventive,” Sparrow states.
“That’s exactly it,” I confirm. “Does anyone have any ideas?”
Because I have none. Not a single one. I’ve never been worried or scared about anything in my entire fucking life.
But this? I’m goddamn terrified. If something happens to her, to the baby, I don’t think I’d ever be able to live with myself.
It’s my job to protect her, to protect our family.
If I can’t do that, what the fuck good am I?
“We need the Russian here,” Cake grumbles.
“He prefers in-person meetings at his home. Cake, you and I can do that. But I won’t want to give them information before it’s learned. What I’d like to do is plot out a few scenarios and our responses to them. I’ve gathered you all here because you’re the most trusted.”
There is a moment of silence. Nobody says anything as they shift their attention around from one another. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here. Maybe I shouldn’t have called this church. Now that everyone is here, the whole thing seems stupid.
Maybe I panicked over nothing.
“I just want to ensure my daughter is protected. I know she’s safe here. This club is the best one we have, aside from mine, of course.” Cake chuckles.
“Even if the entire Bratva doesn’t come down here, the father will. If he was trying to manipulate her to get to the club, he will definitely not stop once he discovers the baby is a boy.”
“But he knows he’s having a baby?” Hound asks.
Cake grunts before he clears his throat. “Yeah, she told him and made a social media post before I took her phone away.”
I smile at that. Cake took her phone away, but I bought her a brand-new one the moment we landed in Boulder City. I don’t even know if she’s logged back into her social media. I’m not going to control her shit that way, but now I’m wishing I had at least asked her.
“Rustik, the leader of the Perov Bratva, whom I am in direct contact with, knows who she is and that she’s my wife,” I state. “I don’t know what that means—whether it helps or hurts us—but he likes our work, so I assume he’ll back whatever happens,” I murmur.
“I don’t like any part of this,” Wrath mutters.
I have to admit, I don’t care for this shit, either. I’d rather not have any drama at all. I’m fifty-two years old. I’ve lived enough drama to last a lifetime. I could do without it from this point forward.
But for Chassis, I’ll endure.
I would do just about anything for that woman.
“I don’t either,” I confess. “I also don’t want a war to knock on my door. I don’t know their manpower or their firepower, but what I do know is that this woman is mine. She’s my woman, my old lady, and my wife. Nobody fucking touches her.”
I’m not sure how the hell all of this is going to be received or what the consensus will be by the end of church, but I want to make sure that we have everyone at our back. Every single fucking member.
“So, what is the ultimate decision? If they bring a fight to our door, we answer?” Wrath asks. “I got a woman to think about, and so does Loot.”
Cake chuckles. “They come to my goddamn door, and I’m showing them the barrel of every fucking gun we have.”
We all laugh. I can’t believe that this is really fucking happening. War isn’t something I’ve ever wanted any part of. It’s something I’ve only heard stories about. Our club has been quiet for years.
War was a fucking myth.
Until now.