Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
AYDA
Drew, Eric, and I had retreated to Drew’s office knowing that if we stayed outside much longer, we’d be discovered.
I was on the couch in Drew’s office, my legs tucked up under me as I watched him stalk from one side of the room to the other in agitation, while Eric leaned against the shelves that held a lot of the club history.
My eyes tracked Drew’s pacing, one thought pounding through my mind with every step he took.
Owen Sinclair is the rat.
Step. Owen.
Step. Sinclair.
Step. Is.
Step. The.
Step. Rat.
The more the words pounded themselves into my head, the angrier I became.
There was a wild rage that boiled in the center of my chest and demanded that action be taken.
It berated me for agreeing to keep quiet and follow Eric’s lead.
Rats ran, that was for damn sure, but stick them on an island and surround them with water and you could drown them easily enough.
I wanted to drown Owen Sinclair.
I wanted to see him suffer.
If Harry had known about it for a year, how far back did Owen’s betrayals go? How much information had he given our enemies? Who was he feeding all of this to?
Thinking back, I could see him in almost every prevalent memory I had of The Hut.
Thanksgiving. Nights in the bar, laughing and listening to stories from the past. When I was being comforted by Deeks.
When we talked about anything of consequence.
How often had Drew barely noticed Owen’s presence?
He was in church with them every time they were sequestered.
He was one of the few who had access to the books and accounts for the club and all their businesses, too.
The more I thought about it all, the more I wanted to find him and put a bullet in his forehead, and for me, that was a foreign thought and inclination to have.
Except, it wasn’t. I’d always been willing to kill for Tate, even when our parents had been alive.
Mom had always said that was my maternal nature, and maybe this situation was no different.
These men were my family, and it was all being threatened… for what?
Well, wasn’t that the question of the hour?
I watched as Drew spun again, agitation worn clearly on his face. Eric just held his silence and observed in the same way I was.
“What now?” I asked softly.
Eric rubbed his hands together, twisting his dry palms over and over again as he watched Drew. “Not to make a point of using fancy ass words, but it’s imperative we keep this between us.”
“Lying to my men isn’t as easy for me as it is you.” Drew paced. “They are my brothers, not by blood, but by the blood we’ve shared together. If they knew I was keeping this from them, they’d feel as betrayed as I feel right now.”
“Honesty isn’t always for the best,” Eric said calmly.
Drew growled in frustration, his head bobbing from side to side as he walked, like each side of the scales were tipping over every few seconds as his thoughts rattled around.
“What’s fucking infuriating is that I know you’re right.
The more men who know, the more chance we have of tipping Owen off that we know he’s not loyal to the patch. ”
I knew they were both right. There was no way in hell that a lot of the men out there could hold themselves back when faced with the rat. Owen would walk in here like he always did, head high, looking down his nose at us all, and someone would snap. Probably me.
“Agreed.” I finally murmured, knowing there wasn’t much more I could do. “What about Helen? You think she knew?”
“Helen? Why would she know?” Drew asked, confusion creasing his brows.
I blinked and shifted. “If Jon Taylor had information on you and the club, my first thought is he heard it either from the rat himself, or someone the rat was working with. Eric said this was going on while you were still locked up, right?”
Eric glanced between the two of us, his body still as he assessed the situation and nodded. “Harry suspected eyes had been on the club for a long time.”
“It might be worth asking her if anything stood out. Helen may not know anything. I’m sure someone as corrupt and arrogant as Jon Taylor paraded people through that house without a consideration of what that would look like to his wife.
I doubt he really cared what she thought, but if she can confirm this…
if she can confirm who she saw…” I trailed off.
“We’d know for certain. No more guessing.
We’d have all the proof we needed for you two to take it to the table. ”
“She has a point,” Eric muttered, surprising me with his agreement.
“Fine. We’ll go to her.” Drew continued to walk back and forth, eyes fixed on the carpet beneath his feet. “I need Sutton here,” he said suddenly. “I want him involved.”
“Sutton?” Eric asked with an edge of surprise, but that man was well rehearsed in keeping his face straight.
Looking up, Drew stopped in his tracks. “You said yourself—he’s clean.
He’d lay down his life for me. If we’re going to out this fucker, I want Sutton involved.
I want someone from the law on our side.
He’s our man.” He shook his head, his mouth parting to speak.
“I can’t believe these words fall out of my own goddamn mouth these days. ”
I nodded my agreement with Drew. Sutton had proven himself lately, taking risks to make sure Drew, me, and all of the guys were safe from the Mayor and the ATF agents sniffing around. I figured it probably went much deeper than that, but I only had the knowledge I’d been given to go on.
“I can call him in if you need me to. Probably look less conspicuous coming from me. I’ll mention Sloane. Anyone monitoring him shouldn’t question that too deeply, and if they do, he’ll be here. Hopefully out of their reach enough to keep them in the dark.”
“Do it,” Drew said softly.
I pulled out my phone and dialed his number.
Howard answered on the second ring and immediately said he’d be right here.
From the moment I hung up to the second he walked through the office door, it had only taken twenty-five minutes.
I hoped this meant his new shadow hadn’t given him any problems. Not one of us had been able to sit still while we’d waited, and I had a beer waiting for him by the time he strolled in.
“Sloane?” he asked with no preamble.
“... Is absolutely fine,” I said, handing Sutton the beer and moving to perch on the edge of the desk. “It was the fastest way to get you here.”
“Sutton,” Drew said, making Howard turn on his feet quickly. Everyone knew that tone coming from Drew was never a good thing. It set everyone on edge. “You might want to take a drink of that beer.”
“Oh, hell. What’s going on?” Sutton asked, his face falling.
“Better yet, you might want to sit down,” Eric added.
Sutton eyed each of us, before Drew carefully moved closer, resting his hand on Sutton’s shoulder.
“We need to talk to you about something, chief, but first, I need you to be able to assure me that whatever’s said in this room stays between the four of us.”
Sutton frowned, the question on his loyalty clearly irritating the hell out of him before he looked up at Drew. “I ain’t never talked about anybody’s crap to other people, Tucker, and I ain’t about to start now. What’s going on?”
Drew looked up at me, looking like he needed me again.
I started us off, explaining about Dallas and Clint’s family—all of which was new to Eric, too. Drew and Eric took over on everything that had happened between then and when Sutton arrived, while I watched the color slowly drain from the chief’s face.
By the time they were through, Drew was agitated again and pacing another rut into the floor, Eric looked as though he’d finally figured something out, and Sutton looked like someone had run over his puppy.
“Jesus Christ,” Sutton said, dropping onto the couch and draining half the beer in one mouthful. “What a fucking mess.”
That was an understatement.
“I’m taking Owen out, chief,” Drew said matter-of-factly.
Sutton dropped his face into the palm of his hand with a heavy slap. “The population of Babylon decreases with every new dawn that rises around here.”
Eric smirked, finding that amusing, while Drew remained stony-faced, his hands tucked into the depths of his jean pockets, his chin raised in defiance.
“We need your help.”
Howard spread his fingers and peeked through them, glancing at Drew with worry dripping from his every pore. “Do I get a choice?”
“Sure you do.” Drew rocked on the heels of his feet. “You can leave. You don’t have to be a part of this if you don’t want to be.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”
It was Drew’s turn to smirk now, and standing side by side, it was clear to see just how alike he and his father really were. Their faces mirrored one another’s, their stances strong and assured in the midst of a raging battle going on all around them.
“Ah, come on, brother. You know you’re part of the pack now in some weird, twisted way. There’s no but. Just a little bit of judgment if you walk out that door without helping us get rid of our nasty vermin problem.”
Sutton turned to look at me, dropping his hand to his thigh.
I met his glance head on as he studied me, looking for some semblance of my being the rational one, but I knew the moment he saw I was on board.
When he finally realized that this was my life, that this club was and would always be the choice I made from now, his shoulders fell in resignation.
Maybe what he saw in me was a reflection of his own feelings, too.
These guys weren’t the bad guys. They never had been. He saw the evidence of that with every passing day, and he’d already known his answer the moment he’d walked through that door. The moment Drew saved his life in that warehouse.
I gave him a small nod, and he reciprocated, turning his glance back to Drew and Eric.
“I’m in,” he said firmly.