Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

HAVEN

I’m patched in, and then the party starts. It’s part welcome home and farewell to Danica. I meet more people than I can possibly remember at one time, but I smile and nod until Duchess waves me over into a private room.

“You looked like you needed a moment.” I nod and take a deep breath.

“This is a lot.” I slump into a chair and place my hands on my head.

“Is it too much, though?” I look up at her in surprise.

Her question is innocent enough, but the look in her eyes tells me there is only one correct answer. I’ve accepted this role, and the only way I’m getting out of it now is by joining Danica.

Her relaxed lean, blocking the only way out, looks a lot different now. I swallow hard and shake my head.

Not what I meant. Meeting all these people all at once. I don’t do well with the living. I prefer the peacefulness of the morgue.” I shrug as she cringes.

“That’s some morbid fucked up shit. I can see now that Azrael is the perfect road name for you.” She stands straight and comes over to Danica’s cut.

“Keep this one until your little deception is over, then it gets burned as well. Understood?” I frown.

“It’s the only thing I have left of her.” My voice comes out small, and I watch Duchess’s hard, resting bitch face crack.

“Fine, keep the cut, burn the rockers. Yours should be here next week. Think you can wrap this shit up by then?” I sigh and think over the meeting we have tomorrow night.

“I hope so.” It’s the only thing I can say that is honest without sounding weak.

Because one thing I’ve caught on fast around here is that weakness is not tolerated. You can have doubts, fears, but the Harlots are all about overcoming.

“Good, I’m gonna roll. I expect you at National in June.” She catches my confused look and laughs before slapping my shoulder.

“You’ve gotta lot to learn, chicka. Good luck.” And then she’s fucking gone, leaving the door open so that I can finally leave the room.

I didn’t feel trapped with her, but boy am I glad to see the fucked up peeling wallpaper. It seems the Harlots are more women of action than tidying up, but that is not gonna fly anymore.

“LOKI!” I call out and start looking through the desk.

I find some paper and a pencil as she walks in.

“Yeah, Prez?” Oh, that is so weird.

“I need a full list of property assets, club dues, treasurer balances, current patched members, and prospects.” Loki looks a little taken aback by my request.

“What? The club is a business. If I’m in charge, I need to know what’s going on. If you can’t give me this info, then bring me who can.” I start writing down a list of things I want looked at, fixed, and cleaned.

I offer her the paper, and she reads over the list.

“You’re giving us chores?” I sigh at her reaction.

“You all need leadership. Someone to keep things moving in the right direction. Luckily, I’ve got overactive OCD with hyperfixations you are going to regret, but next week.

This house is disgusting, so if I have to treat you all like a Den Mom, I will.

Questions?” Loki looks like she wants to argue, but then deflates.

“You’re right. We need to take pride in our own environment.” I nod, happy she gets where I’m coming from.

“I need to handle my own business tomorrow, so if you need me, call. Make sure all the officers have my number. Is the meet still on for Friday night?” She nods and folds the paper into her back pocket.

“Yes, Prez.” I grab Danica’s keys off the bar and walk out to her Harley.

“Mercy?” I freeze as Loki curses.

I turn to see a tall bald man in a cut swinging his gigantic leg over a custom Harley. His breast rocker reads APEX, NOMAD. My eyes fly up to his dark ones, which are narrowed in suspicion.

“That’s the old man.” Right, but of course it is.

“You changed your hair.” He stops two inches from my body and grabs the back of my neck.

He slams his mouth on mine and damn near chokes me with his tongue. When I don’t respond the way he expects, he pulls back slowly, and I find myself looking into the wrong end of a gun.

“You ain’t Mercy.” Fuckicty fuck fuck!

He searches my face and then curses softly before stepping back and putting the gun back in its holster.

“You’re the cousin, Haven.” I nod once quickly.

A sob escapes this man, and he kicks the tree next to Mercy’s bike. He turns his back on us and places his hands on his hips with his face up to the night sky.

“When?” I’m not sure who he’s asking, but Loki answers.

“Two nights ago.” He curses and wipes his face before turning around to me.

“She called me for help, but I was in Washington State. I told her to wait. She never fucking listened.” He turns to me and offers his hand.

“Ricardo Gable, Danica was my old lady.” I shake his hand.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He smiles softly at me in thanks, then clears his throat and faces Loki.

“You Prez now?” She shakes her head and points at me with her thumb.

“The job ain’t done. We needed her to impersonate Mercy. Duchess was not fooled but okayed the plan. Said it’s our mess to fix.” He looks me up and down.

“Seriously?” I’m so fucking sick of people underestimating me.

“Yeah, seriously. If Mercy could figure this out, then I shouldn’t have a fucking problem. I’m a fucking doctor after all.” He backs up with his hands out.

“With the Italian Jersey temper, too, I see. Alright, you’re gonna need a mentor and guide. I’m here, so use me. I can help you sell this. In the meantime, when is the funeral?” He had a point.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“About that.”

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