Viking
“You guys sure she’s worth the trouble?” Brute spears Priest and me with a look that would send most men running. “Because what I’m seeing is trouble we don’t need.”
Breathing in deeply so I don’t bite my president's head off, Priest thankfully takes the reins. “Was Finleigh worth it?”
Damn, he went there.
“You got something to say, Priest?” Brute snarls, getting to his feet.
“Just saying that she came with trouble. We helped, no questions asked.” Brute seems to chill a bit as he thinks about it. “We’d do it for anyone here, too.”
“Point taken,” he grumbles, settling back in his chair. “But Fin didn’t have drama with any of the girls who’ve been around for years, providing you with relief when needed.”
It’s comical how uncomfortable he is talking about sex.
“Logan needs protection; we’re providing it. Trista can find some other club to fuck for all I care.” The woman has become a pain in the ass. It’s not her place to have opinions about what we do or who we bring around.
“What’s the deal with her mother and this bullshit?” Brute pinches his nose, like he’s fighting off a headache.
“Seems to me she’s been pulling strings in Trista’s life that have sent her reeling and into denial.”
Easy interrupts as he knocks and enters. “Here’s that file on both girls.” He hands it to Brute, ignoring us. “His life insurance policy was enough to make anyone drool, and I’m betting the mothers did it, then kept the girls from each other on purpose.” He’s gone as quickly as he arrived.
“Jesus.”
From the few times she spoke about it, I know Logan is still torn up about losing the predominant male figure in her life. Given that the other two are both assholes, I can see why she’s struggled.
“We keep taking on strays, we’re gonna become a shelter or some bullshit,” Brute groans. “Just figure shit out and keep the drama out of the club.”
Dismissed, we take our leave, and immediately, the tension in the room sets me on edge. Scanning the faces, I don’t see Logan and grow pissed when I notice Trista’s absence as well.
“Where the fuck is she?” I shout, and people either turn away, put their heads down, or point outside.
“Trista followed her out forty minutes ago,” Neo says, making me frown. Were we in there that long? Clocking the time, I realize we were.
“She been back inside?” Priest asks, sensing that things are about to go south. Neo winces as he shakes his head no. “Find her,” he snarls.
Rushing outside, we see no signs of either person.
“I’m going to fucking kill her if she did anything to hurt our woman.” Nothing and nobody will stop me, either. Not anymore.
“Viking!” Swamp shouts from the front door. “You’re going to want to see this.”
Dread slams me in the gut as we storm back inside and follow Swamp to the security office.
On the computer screen is a video of Logan sitting outside, talking on her phone, before Trista interrupts her by tossing a bag at her and screaming that Logan needs to leave.
Then I see fucking red, and my heart pounds out of my chest when Trista pulls out a gun and aims it at our hellcat.
Logan is devastated as she shoulders her bag and walks out the open gate. She takes a few seconds to decide which way to go, but she turns in the direction of Gulfport. Shoulders slumped, head down, she’s the epitome of crushed.
We watch until she’s out of sight, and Trista seems so fucking pleased with herself, prancing off around the back, likely to the cabin where the girls typically reside.
“She’s out. She comes back here, and she’s getting buried in the swamp.” I fucking warned her, but apparently, she thought I wouldn’t follow through because she’s a woman.
Turning to hunt the bitch down, Axl suddenly stands in my way. “Don’t do it,” he says, trying to be diplomatic.
“You fucking watch that? She pointed a gun at her own fucking sister!” My roar scatters everyone away. Plenty of things in this world I’ll tolerate; turns out threats to my woman are off fucking limits.
“Look, man. Trista is a protected member of this club and one of my wife’s closest friends. Let’s not blow this up.”
Narrowing my eyes on Axl, I shove him out of the way and storm towards Neo and Olympus as they enter through the back door, holding onto Trista.
“I fucking warned you, woman. I made it crystal fucking clear what would happen if you did anything to her.” Gripping her throat, I slam her against a wall. “What did you not understand?” Squeezing harder, I lift her up on her toes as her eyes bulge and she scrapes at my wrist with her nails.
“She’s nobody!” Trista screams as Priest leans his shoulder against the wall next to her.
“You’re wrong,” he snarls into her ear. “She’s your sister. Your flesh and blood. And our fucking woman. That means you would have had a place here for the rest of your fucking life instead of being tossed out when you’re old and washed out.”
The drywall cracks when I slam her against the wall again, and I feel no fucking remorse as she whimpers and tears start falling.
“You could have just ignored her,” I say, releasing her.
She drops to the floor, coughing and crying.
“For Fin, I’ll let you live. She likes you for some fucking reason, but when we get back, you’d better be gone, and I don’t want to see you again or my threat of putting a bullet between your eyes will be a promise. ”
Stomping out the back, I hop on my bike, kick-start it, and roar off the property with Priest close behind. Our only thought is to find Logan before something else fucking happens to her.