Chapter 30
CHAPTER
THIRTY
DARE
Cake and I pull up to the clubhouse and kill our engines, but neither of us makes a move to climb off our bikes. I stare at the door, torn between jumping off this bike and running to my woman or having a discussion with Cake that I know I need to have.
He climbs off his bike, and I know I have to do the same. “Somewhere where we won’t be heard?” he asks.
I jerk my chin toward the house where we conduct the most serious business, and we both make our way over there. Nobody will even look for us out here. It’s not like we brought anyone here to gather information, or for revenge.
Once we’re inside, I close the door behind me and flip on the light.
The windows are blacked out so nobody can see inside.
Cake moves into the middle of the room. His back is to me for a long moment, his shoulders slumped slightly, before he turns around to face me, his eyes on me, his arms crossed over his chest.
“You good with everything?” I ask.
He watches me for a long moment, then lets out a grunt before he speaks. “I don’t have much of a choice but to be, do I?” he asks.
“Not really.”
He snorts, then drops his arms. I watch as he walks over to one of the boarded-up windows and lifts his hand, curling his fingers into a fist. He knocks on the wood a couple of times. He’s clearly thinking, his jaw clenched, before he takes a step back and faces me.
“As a leader, I understand that he can’t just kill him for being an asshole.”
“As a father?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
Because I have a feeling that my answer would be the exact same if he were to ask me.
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to. I get him. I’ve known him long enough that I understand how he thinks. Plus, I’m almost in the same position. He inhales a deep breath and holds it for a moment before he lets it out slowly.
“How do we keep them safe?” he asks.
I shrug a shoulder. “I got her a new phone, I got her a house to live in, I got her a car. I’m not sure what else I can do to keep her safe other than locking her up here at the clubhouse, but I don’t think it would make her happy.”
“No, it wouldn’t. She hated lockdowns, even as a kid. Chassis might not want to be the center of attention, but she assuredly does not want to be caged, either.”
I can see that about her. I can also see the bit of a wild streak that runs through her.
It’s one of my favorite things about her.
It’s subtle, but it’s there, and I want to watch her allow it to be released.
But I understand that she needs a safe space for that, which she won’t have until Samuil has been taken care of—permanently.
“You got a guy you can put on her for twenty-four-seven surveillance?” he asks. “If not, I can leave one of the boys here.”
I know by boys, he means one of Chassis’s brothers. I let that roll around in my head a little, then decide that I don’t hate the sound of it. In fact, it makes it a hell of a lot easier on me and lessens the burden of having to rearrange schedules.
“I’ll take one of the boys. It’ll help me out. Hopefully, it won’t be for long.”
Cake dips his chin in a single nod, then claps his hands together as if the decisions have been made and everything is written in stone. Which I guess it is, considering we’ve decided on this.
“I’ll talk to them, have one of them come back after he packs some shit, probably Gauge. I got Piston working on a project for me, and Clutch is still too pussy obsessed for me to trust he’ll do what he needs to do when he needs to do it.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Cake walks past me, then stops at the door. I watch as he turns his head, looking over his shoulder at me. His eyes find mine, and he jerks his chin slightly. “I’m leaving my daughter and grandson here. I’m trusting you to protect them with your life.”
“She’s my wife,” I state. “Nothing will happen to her if I have anything to say about it. I will kill for her, Cake. Kill to protect her.”
And it is not a lie. In fact, it’s the entire goddamn truth. I will kill to protect every piece of her, of this baby. They are mine now. They aren’t Samuil’s. They never were, and he cannot have them. I won’t let him.
“Good,” Cake murmurs.
He walks out of the house, leaving me alone. I stare at the door as it closes, then slowly close my eyes. Tipping my chin, I look down at my feet, blinking a couple of times before I shift my attention back to the door.
Moving forward, I decide to go in search of my woman. She’s been left alone here all day long, and I can only imagine what kind of bullshit the clubwhores have been poking at her with.
It doesn’t take me long to make my way back toward the clubhouse. I cross the parking area and jog toward the door of the bar. Reaching for the handle, I wait just a moment before I open it.
There is music playing. It’s not very loud, but the hum seeps out through the cracks in the door. Tugging it open, I blink a couple of times, stepping into the dark space and allowing my gaze to adjust to the darkness.
Immediately, my focus shifts around the room as I look for her. It doesn’t take me long to find her—just a few passing glances—until I see two tables pushed together and five people sitting at said table.
Elodie, Alex, Juliette, Gauge, and Chassis.
My woman.
I don’t move forward, standing just enough inside the bar that the door can close behind me.
I watch her. She’s smiling, but she’s not looking at me.
She’s talking to Juliette, who is smiling and nodding with everything she says.
I can confidently say that I’ve never seen her like this before, and I want to let it all soak in.
“Everything good?” a voice asks beside me.
I don’t have to look over to see who is talking to me. He wouldn’t even have to speak, and I would know exactly who was standing beside me. “It will be,” I say.
“Yeah?” Wrath asks.
Tearing my gaze away from my woman, I look over to him. “Gauge is going to stay here as her personal security. It will relieve the manpower needed to protect her. There’s no way I can put her on lockdown with no fucking clue if there is even a threat.”
Wrath dips his chin in a single nod but doesn’t break our eye contact. His lips twitch into a smirk. “And your meeting with the Russian?”
“Went well. He said if Samuil steps out of line, he’s ours to deal with.”
“Probably the best he could do. Issue him warnings and hope he doesn’t fuck up.”
It’s my turn to smile, and when I do, I hold nothing back. I show Wrath everything I’m feeling without actually saying a word. But I say the words anyway, because I want him to be completely aware of my thoughts on this shit.
“I hope he does. Sooner rather than later. I’m ready to end the fuck.”