Chapter 24 #2
My mind starts thinking of who it could be.
I don’t think we have delivery people that linger.
We do all of our own cleaning, food prep, and yard work specifically because we don’t want strangers in the clubhouse.
All the brothers and prospects are thoroughly vetted before being allowed to join.
The club girls are always a little unpredictable.
In terms of new recruits, there is one prospect that only started last month.
He’s still getting acclimated, barely talks, and shows up early, but always offers to help.
I keep thinking as we ride back to the clubhouse. One name floats to the top, Silver.
When we gather for church, our focus shifts to defensive strategy.
Slate stands by the whiteboard, already scribbling ideas while Onyx slams a map of the property down on the table.
I look it over, measuring angles in my head, trying to figure out if they set them up in order to triangulate targets for snipers.
I shake my head, thinking that’s a batshit crazy thought.
“In terms of defensive strategy, we need to figure out a way to keep these drones out of our airspace.”
Striker nods. “We can mask the signal using the wiring already in place. We need to install it at a higher elevation. Once it’s in place, nobody’ll suspect a thing.”
“Start with the lights,” I say. “We’ve already got tall poles installed at every corner. Most of ‘em are solar. We hide signal jammers in the fixtures—make it look like a maintenance job.”
“That should work,” he replies.
“Good,” I say. “And what about if the drones slip through somehow? If they get close to the clubhouse, they’ll be able to pick up every person in the clubhouse on their thermal scanners.”
“We can use thermal curtain shielding,” he explains, pulling out a sketch. “It blocks infrared signatures from being picked up. You might remember the military uses it in desert bunkers.”
“I do remember that. Now, we need to identify priority zones,” I say. “Those would be here, the officers’ rooms, the armory, the bar, where everyone will be congregating during the lockdown, and the upstairs suites.”
Pretty much the entire clubhouse.
“Already on it,” he replies.
Onyx stretches out his legs, arms crossed. “What about the rat? We just let ‘em keep feeding our enemies intel while we patch holes?”
“No,” I say. “We bait them.”
I walk to the whiteboard and jot out a short plan. “We let information slip and see who leaks it through one of our secure comm lines.”
I turn around to face the other club officers. “If they bite,” I say, turning to the room, “we’ll know exactly who passed it. And we’ll be waitin’.”
Slate nods slowly. “Set the trap, let ‘em walk right into it.”
Mica clicks his pen. “And if it’s a prospect?”
“Then they’ll wish they’d never stepped foot on club ground,” I say. “No mercy for those who betray us.”
We stay a while longer, sorting out all the details. I get Striker to call in Donnie so he can gather the three launching platforms we discovered in the wild today, while he and Mitch work on setting up the shielding we talked about.
Eventually, I leave the meeting room once everything’s in motion, the signal towers already being prepped, and the thermal shielding on order.
I walk up to my suite with Tessa’s property cut in my hand.
I’ve got it folded neatly under my arm. The leather is stiff but will soon be broken in. I can’t wait to see her wearing it.
Predictably, Silver approaches me. I suspect she only dares because she sees the property cut under my arm and knows once Tessa is in it, all hope of becoming my old lady disappears.
“I know you said not to approach you again, but I want to tell you that you’re making a huge mistake. This outsider you brought into our clubhouse doesn’t fit in. She’s not strong enough to be the kind of woman you need.”
I rake my free hand through my hair, tired and aggravated. “Silver,” I say, and before I can finish my sentence, she cuts me off.
“Just let me finish, please. I get that you really like this girl and she’s your baby mama, but you can just play house for a while. We both know you’re gonna get tired of her and when that happens…”
My hand goes out and lands hard on her shoulder backing her up against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes that she massively overstepped.
“I want you to listen to the words coming out of my mouth. I’m not some young prospect that you can manipulate and use to get what you want.
I’m the VP of the Sons of Rage. Why in the hell would I throw away a decent, respectable woman who loves me for a club whore hell-bent on making one glorious grab for status and power at my expense?
Do you have any idea how fuckin’ crazy that sounds? ”
I drop my arm and step back. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Tessa is going to walk down these steps tomorrow wearing my property cut, and you are going to do every goddam thing she says, or you and I are going to have next-level problems.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I think your primary mistake is thinking because I’ve never laid a finger on a woman before that I won’t absolutely take you apart for fuckin’ with my old lady.
You only get one chance to do right by her.
If you fuck it up, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Now get out of my face.”
I stomp upstairs, fighting down my anger because I am not going to let Silver, of all people, live rent-free in my head.
When I walk through the door, I find Tessa’s curled up on the couch, looking through one of those baby books she picked up in town.
She looks up as I close the door behind me.
I see her brows crease because she’s picking up on my foul mood.
“What happened?” she asks.
“Everything,” I say, dropping the property cut onto the coffee table. “I had a long, hard day and had to deal with Silver again on my way up. I swear to God, that girl seems to loiter around the steps just to fucking throw herself at me every time I leave or go up to my suite.”
She gives me a hug, and I like it way more than I should. “She sounds exhausting.”
I grab the cut and hand it to her, “Go ahead, unfold it, darlin’.”
She sits up straighter and slowly unfolds it, turning it around so the back is showing.
When she sees the cut, her breath catches. It’s simple. Nothing flash. Just says ‘Property of Jasper, Sons of Rage MC’ across the back in clean stitchwork.
“I told you I was all in,” she says softly, tracing the letters.
I nod slowly, unable to take my eyes off her. “And I believe you. So now you’ll train with Queenie and learn how things run. You’re takin’ over that side of it if I end up as Prez.”
She sets the cut across her lap and meets my eyes. “You think someone’s trying to sabotage that?”
Taking a deep breath, I tell it to her straight, “No, I actually think they’re going to show up here en masse and try to take over our club. We found another drone, and when we hacked it, we discovered we may have a turncoat feeding them information.”
Her face tightens, her protective instinct showing. “You have any idea who? If you do, you should get rid of them right away.”
“I’ve got a few guesses. If I had to put money down, I’d say Silver’s stirring shit again. She always shows up when trouble starts.”
Tessa exhales through her nose and folds the cut over her knees. “Then I guess it’s a good time to show you I can handle myself.”
“Yeah,” I say. “You show me. And keep your eyes open. I’m not ruling out anybody at this point. Remember, just because someone wears a patch doesn’t mean they’re above suspicion.”