Chapter 14
Mad Dog
Shit. My hands almost burn with the need to spank Willa’s thick ass again as she sashays away from the table.
I mean, fuck, the woman just realised in real time that not only did she screw up Diesel’s run that day, but also Mercer’s.
That means something. I’m not too sure what, but I know that it ain’t all above board.
“Breathe, Dad,” Marx’s voice cuts through my spiralling but it doesn't really settle the churning in my gut.
“Fuck, Son.”
“I know. But he ain’t gonna do anything here.
Look around, there are too many people to make a scene.
And we’re surrounded by the higher ups. District attorneys, fucking judges, celebrities.
Not all the people here are on the take, and men like Mercer and Thompson can’t risk their clean images for the filthy shit they get up to. ”
He’s right. I know he’s right. I also know we have people on our side.
Moss Davies has brought his sister Poppy as his date, both of them sitting at a table close to the door.
They’ve got eyes on anyone coming and going so I know he’ll have our backs if we need it.
Gus also has Tombs security contacts within the building so it’s not like we’re left with our pants down, balls in the breeze, but I still don’t like it.
Willa may not be mine, but she sure damn feels like it.
Even more so since that kiss she laid on me.
I scan the room, looking for any motherfuckers that look like they don’t belong here.
It’s a damn hard job when the MC are the ones who don't look like we belong. We may have scrubbed up real nice, but you can’t tell me a table of huge, fit, tattooed men blend in with Houston Glitterati.
The funny thing is, we’re probably a shit ton more honest than half the sons of bitches here.
Laughter breaks out around the room as some boring beige man makes a lame joke but I ignore him. My eyes fixed to the door Willa walked through. How damn long does it take to go to the bathroom?
“Mad Dog, she’ll be fine,” Joy says, leaning over Willa’s empty chair to pat my fist. “Willa is the toughest, most badass lady I’ve ever met. She’s good.”
“I think you’ll find I’m probably the toughest,” Chewy’s voice says over the earpiece.
Joy’s face breaks out into a huge smile. “You too, Chewy.” She rolls her eyes at me before sitting back.
The position she’s now in gives me an uninterrupted view of Christopher Mercer’s empty chair. What the fuck?
“Don’t,” Chewy says in my ear.
“I didn’t fucking say anything,” I growl under my breath so only Chewy can hear me.
“You made the face.”
“What fucking face?”
“The punchy face. Just stay where you are.”
“Chewy?”
“Yeah?”
“Why the fuck are you up in my business when you should be looking after your baby?”
Chewy snorts through the earpiece and all my fire dies out. “Mad Dog, you gifted the world with an incredible man who not only gives me lots of orgasms, but is also a hands-on dad. He’s on Miles duty while I’m on fight the bad guys duty. Trust me, this is what you want me doing.”
I huff out a breath. She’s right. No one is better at this shit than Chewy. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
“Would it make you feel better to know that Blanche is in the ladies room, too?”
My head snaps to the table, the first time I’ve noticed that not only is Blanche missing, but so are Lovely and Nat.
“Wait, where’s Pops?” I ask no one in particular.
“Ah shit,” Tank mutters under his breath, before looking under the table.
“Dad, just accept some shit is about to go down. As long as there’s no fighting, or bleeding, and we get some useful intel, I’m gonna let it slide.”
I stare at Marx like he’s lost the plot. Maybe he finally has. “Let it slide?”
“If I don’t do that I’ll die of a fucking aneurism in the next two minutes and I don’t think my Russian Bratva big brother can save me this time.”
I keep my ass in my seat, but fuck it’s hard not to spring up and go after Willa. My knee bounces as the tension builds and everyone eating their fancy tiny food like nothing is amiss is starting to piss me off.
“Trust her, Dad. She’s got this,” Marx murmurs and I know he’s right.
If I want Willa, and I do, then I have to trust her. But it’s damned hard when my gut is screaming at me, and I’m not one to ignore my gut.
“She’s fine, Mad Dog,” Chewy says.
“And how do you know that? Actually, how the hell do you know half the shit going down? Do you have eyes on?”
Chewy snorts in my ear. “Do I have eyes on? Of course I do.” I’m sure she’s rolling her eyes as we speak. “Mercer didn’t follow her to the bathroom, if that’s what you’re worried about.
“What? If he’s not there, then where the fuck is he? More importantly, where the fuck is she?” I growl down the line.
“All in good time, Mad Dog,” Chewy says mysteriously.
“Chewy?”
“Chewy is unavailable at this time,” Chewy says, making the fuckers around the table snort.
“Chewy.”
“Rider,” Chewy says, ignoring me.
“Yeah?” Rider replies, leaning on the table, hands clasped.
“When was the last time you saw your brother?”
Rider frowns, eyes on the table, “My brother? Which one?”
“Whichever one goes by Grind.”
“What the fuck?”
Ah, shit.
Willa
I half expect Mad Dog to follow me, so I’m surprised when I come out of the bathroom stall to find that I’m alone.
Am I disappointed? Not in Mad Dog. He seems to keep surprising me at every turn.
Which means that my defenses are way the hell down and where he’s involved that’s where I want them.
Because I want him. In my life, in my home, in my bed.
I have no idea who the hell I thought I was fooling when I proposed friendship with the man.
I should have known that my brain was never going to be a match for my vagina or my heart and Mad Dog’s charm.
My reflection smiles back at me and I’m almost taken aback by the woman in the mirror. There’s still a hardness about her, around the eyes, but there's something else there too. Something softer, gentler, happier. When the fuck did I start looking happy?
“Jesus, Willa, are you doing a number two or something?” Blanche’s voice calls through the door and I can't help but laugh as I turn on the faucet and wash my hands.
“Coming!” I yell over my shoulder.
Tearing at the paper towels I dry my hands, toss the damp paper in the bin, smooth my hair, and check myself in the mirror before I fling the bathroom door open.
“There she is!” Lovely cheers as Nat claps.
“Wow, that’s one hell of a welcome,” I reply.
“We’re just so happy you gave us an excuse to leave that room. I get it’s for a good cause but jeez, they’re all out there just stroking egos,” Lovely says, her brows pinched.
“Besides, we have more interesting things to be doing,” Blanche adds.
“Oh, yeah? Like what?” I ask before I realize that asking is probably a very bad idea.
“Oh, we’re off on a side quest,” Nat grins, wagging her brows.
I know I should go back into the other room and sit my ass down. I know we all should go back to the other room and finish what we set out to do. The problem is, I know as well as they do that we aren’t going to do that.
“OK,” I hold my hands up, “What’s the side quest?”
Blanche grins maniacally as Lovely claps and Nat hustles down the hall in her heels, before spinning to look back at us.
“Hurry up! I left Pops spying on him and we have no idea what Pops is gonna get up to.”
We all look at each other before we jog down the hall as fast as we can in our spikey heels. Nat leads the way to some side room, the door slightly ajar, the only light in the room is what’s reflecting in from the hall.
“Pops?”
“Shhhh!”
“Did he just shush me?” I whisper to Lovely.
She gives me a little smile and a nod before pointing deeper into the room. There is Mercer, on the phone, pacing from one side to the other.
“You need to move the shit out, tonight…..I don’t give a fuck if you and your little friends are ready or not, move it!....Remember how the fuck you got out, Diesel. One call from me and you’ll be right fucking back in that cell selling your ass for fucking pot noodles…….get rid of it!”
“Well, that’s disturbing and hilarious in equal measure,” I mutter to myself. Then try to hold in the maniacal laughter that wants to break out at the thought of Diesel selling his ass.
Mercer looks at his phone, before pocketing it, the call apparently over. He turns to move and I plaster myself against the wall in the shadows next to my Ol Lady friends in the hopes he won’t see us.
“Cover me, I’m going in,” Pops says, stepping out into the middle of the room.
“Shit!” Blanche hisses as she moves to Pops’ back, the rest of us flanking him.
Mercer spins in our direction and I’m not sure what he’s expecting, but I bet it isn’t four hot women and an old man.
“Willa?”
“Fuck off,” I whisper under my breath. There is no way he recognises me. No way.
“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here.” He moves like a shark. Graceful, cold. “You look beautiful, Willa. Always were too good for Diesel, huh?”
“Willa?” Lovely asks, gripping my hand for support.
But I don’t need support. I’m good. I’ve worked my ass off for years so men like Diesel and Mercer can’t touch me.
“What are you doing, Mercer? What’s the plan?”
“Now that I’ve seen you, the plan has changed. You owe me. And you owe your Ol Man. Diesel’s too fucking dumb to know it was you who set him up. Not me though. That was my shipment you fucked with and I’m gonna make sure you pay for it. On your back.”
He moves to step toward me, to intimidate me, but it’s too late because I’m already moving toward him, my heels loud on the wood floor. I swipe the centerpiece off a table as I pass, letting the weight of it settle in my hand. It’s heavier than it looks, perfect.
Mercer’s face changes, his teeth clench and he snarls as he tries to step into my space. If he thinks I’m going to back down, he has another thing coming. My right arm moves in a wide arc until the centerpiece in my hand collides with his smug face, sending him crumpling to the ground.
“Holy shit he folded like a rag doll!” Nat bellows before collapsing onto the floor in a fit of laughter.
A clap rings out, then another and another until a big, blonde guy who looks eerily familiar steps into the room, his heavy boots thudding to a stop next to Mercer’s head.
“I got more where that came from,” I sneer, ready to take out another asshole if needed.
“Save it, sweetheart,” the man says, drawing a snort out of me.
“The only person who calls me sweetheart is my man.”
Mad Dog’s chuckle fills the room. “Is that so?”
Dammit. I was trying to play it cool. The centerpiece in my hand thuds to the floor as soon as Mad Dog’s hand rests on my lower back.
“How long were you standing there?” I whisper to him.
“Long enough to appreciate how hot you are with a weapon in your hand,” he whispers back, pressing his lips to my temple before turning to the mystery man. “Deacon.”
“Mad Dog.”
“Brace yourself.”
The stranger nods once, before his head snaps to the side as Rider’s fist hits him. He shakes it off, rubbing his chin. “Hey, brother.”
“Hey, asshole,” Rider replies, looking more tense than I’ve ever seen him.
“For fuck’s sake. What did I say?” Marx says coming to a stop next to Mercer. “No fighting, no scenes and no blood spilt.”
“In our defense,” Lovely starts, snuggling into Marx’s side, “we didn’t do any of that. And look! Rider’s brother is here and it’s like a family gathering.”
Marx cocks his brow the exact way Mad Dog does. “There’s a rich fucker lying on the floor, Buttercup.”
“He was mouthing off.” She shrugs.
“Huh. I didn’t even know Rider had a brother,” Blanche says, eying up this Deacon guy.
“He has two,” Tank says.
“Why are you here? What the fuck could the BC chapter of the Kings of Anarchy want around these parts?” Rider asks, not making any moves to be closer to his brother.
“Mercer.”
We all look at the man out cold on the floor and then collectively jump at Chewy’s voice.
“Bag ‘im and tag ‘im kids.”