Chapter 11 Catfish #2
I pull on clean clothes and shove my feet in my steel-toed boots instead of my regular ones.
Maybe, subconsciously, I’m already gearing up for a fight.
And if it’s with Grudge, I’m going to need every advantage to take the motherfucker down.
He has two inches on me in height, and about thirty pounds of beefy muscle.
But I’m faster. And I don’t give a fuck if the steel-toed boots are considered cheating.
“Should I get dressed and come with you?”
“It’s club business until someone tells me it isn’t. I’ll be fine on my own, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Too gendered?”
Wren smirks as they shake their head and kneel on the edge of the bed. “Too sweet. Makes my teeth hurt.”
I kiss their forehead. “I’ll come up with something different.”
“Can I use your shower while you’re gone?”
I tip my chin towards the closet by the door to the bathroom. “There are towels in there. Feel free to use any of my stuff. I’m a boxer brief guy, and there are clean ones in the top drawer of the dresser.”
I love the way Wren’s very short boxer briefs hug their hips and rise over the cheeks of their ass as they move. Makes me wonder if they’ll let me grip them in my hand and move them to one side while I fuck them.
“Thank you.”
“Urgh. I gotta go. Bye.” I walk out the door and close it before I completely ignore the request from Atom, and act on my thoughts.
When I reach the kitchen, Grudge is sitting at the counter, nursing a mug of coffee. And Atom is standing with his back against the fridge, arms folded across his chest.
“Are you fucking Wren?” Grudge says.
“Do I ask you when you last fucked Lucy? No. So don’t be asking me about my sex life.”
Grudge puts his mug down on the counter and stands. Atom looks concerned about the closing distance between the two of us.
“Just answer the question,” Grudge says.
I rub a hand over my jaw as I consider my options. “No, I’m not fucking Wren.” I mean, there was no penetration, so I don’t feel too bad about lying. “I’m protecting them from a list of people. And at the moment, that list looks a lot like the people who are actually after them, plus you.”
Grudge’s shoulders drop from his ears. “Thank God.”
“For the record, Grudge. It is never any of your business who I’m fucking. But I took them a cup of coffee this morning. Slept in one of the guest rooms last night.”
Grudge blows out a harsh breath. “We’ve got one job. To protect Wren.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Can I give you some unsolicited advice?”
The look on Grudge’s face is one of suspicion. “Yeah. What’s that?”
“We don’t just have one job. We have a lot of fucking jobs.
We have a club charter to live up to. We have a strategy to build for next year.
We have members to utilize to our best advantage.
We have folks like Big Daddy, who we have an opportunity to build businesses with over the winter so we can reap the benefits in spring.
The reason you’re so strung out about Wren is because you’re so far up King’s ass, you can’t see anything else. ”
Grudge steps even closer, but I don’t budge. “What the—”
Atom steps between us. “Enough.”
Grudge shakes his head. “It’s not even close to enough.”
I stand my ground, don’t back down for a second.
“King wanted us to protect Wren. To keep them safe and whole. And for some reason, King wanted that so badly, he was willing to use a fucking private jet to get them here. The club owed Wren. And for some fucking reason, you’re treating them like an inconvenience, but something you’ve mistakenly decided your future as president rests on.
You’re being a dick, and I’m calling you on it because you’re usually a much better guy than this. ”
Grudge looks to Atom. “Move out of the way.”
Atom shakes his head. “No can do, Prez. Because I kinda agree with what Catfish is saying.”
Realization hits Grudge’s face. “What?”
Atom shrugs in that laid-back way of his.
“You want Wren taken care of, but you don’t really want to do it.
You want them cooped up in a way that means any protection is the absolute minimum irritation to the club.
And I guess if King cares so much about Wren to go this far out on a limb for them, he probably wants to know they’re happy enough with the setup.
Then, the poor kid passes out like they did yesterday, and you don’t have to be a doc like Greer to know a panic attack when you see one.
But I will say, Wren looked like a person experiencing a bit of peace for the first time in their life when I saw them on that horse.
So maybe we find ways to help them find that more often. ”
Grudge steps back to the kitchen stool, sits on it, then lowers his head until it rests in his hands. “I’m fucking processing.”
The coffee smells good, so I move to grab a cup. Guess we’re talking and not fighting. “That’s a phrase I’ve never heard you say.”
“Fucking Lucy. I get mad, she just says, ‘Do you need a moment to process that?’”
Atom chuckles.
Grudge flips him the bird. “Fine. I fucking processed. Greer said the same thing to me yesterday. Seeing I seem to be biased in this process, what do the two of you suggest we do?”
“I have a plan,” Atom says. “Move Wren into my old man’s place on the ranch.
I know King felt this place is too exposed and thinks that given the resources at the disposal of whoever is out for Wren, it leaves them wide open.
But does it really? I mean, if Wren’s so fucking smart and bored, let’s give them an easy day job.
Make this place secure. Perimeter alerts.
Video cameras. Let’s give them some fucking peace so they can track down the rest of the cash. ”
“You think we should do it?” Grudge asks, turning to face me.
“If it means them moving into a place where they can get some space and some air, then yes. But I’m going with them until we find out where all the money went.”
Grudge eyes me carefully. “Can I trust you to keep your hands off them?”
“I’m insulted you have to fucking ask,” I say, instead of lying to my president.