Chapter Seven
Sully
Tonio Miles and I sat across from each other at a table against a wall in the common room of the main clubhouse.
Untouched whiskeys rested between us like some kind of liquid demilitarized zone while the noise from the rest of the common room faded into a dull roar.
We sized each other up, neither of us reaching for our drinks, neither of us blinking.
The second most powerful crime boss in Nashville versus an ex-con with more loyalty than sense.
In any other circumstances, this would’ve ended with me in a shallow grave.
But Darby had changed the equation, and now we both had to figure out how to solve for X again.
The silence stretched between us, thick enough to cut. Finally, he grunted, a sound of decision rather than defeat, and reached for his glass. He downed the whiskey in one smooth motion before setting the empty shot glass on the scarred wooden table with a definitive thunk.
“Let’s cut the shit,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “What exactly are your intentions toward my daughter?”
I almost smiled at the phrasing, like we were in some period drama where he might challenge me to a duel for Darby’s honor. Instead, I held his gaze steadily, letting the question hang there for a beat. “I intend to never let her out of my fucking sight again.”
It wasn’t the answer he expected. I could see it in his eyes. But his expression said he knew I was being honest. Brutally so, but he believed me. I’d spent weeks searching for Darby after our first night together, then nearly lost her a second time. There was no way I was losing her again.
“She’s not the type to appreciate being watched,” Tonio mused, his expression unreadable.
“I know that,” I replied, finally reaching for my own whiskey. I didn’t down it like he had, but took a measured sip, letting the burn coat my tongue. “But she’s also the type to get herself killed proving how independent she is.”
Tonio nodded, a flicker of something in his expression, possibly agreement. “So what’s your plan? Chain her to the bed?” There was an edge to his voice, a warning. I knew better than to respond to that with anything other than a denial.
“That’d last about ten minutes before she got loose and stabbed me with a spork.” I shook my head. “No, I don’t plan to cage her. I plan to be there. Wherever she goes, whatever trouble she finds… or creates… I’ll be right beside her.”
Tonio leaned forward slightly. “Even if it puts you in my crosshairs?”
“Even then.” I finished my whiskey. “Though I’m starting to think your crosshairs and mine might be aligned when it comes to keeping her safe and happy.”
He studied me for a long moment before nodding once. “She’s reckless.”
“Fearless,” I corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“Semantics,” he countered, but there was something like respect flickering in his eyes. “Either way, she’s going to get herself into all kinds of trouble without someone watching her back.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
Tonio grunted again, this time with a hint of reluctant approval. He poured another shot for each of us from the bottle of Jack sitting on the table. Then we lapsed into a slightly less hostile silence. Progress, of sorts.
My gaze drifted to the bar where I knew she’d been sitting in silence. It was the first time she’d been to the common room without me right next to her, but she’d insisted. Said something about setting boundaries?
Darby stood at one corner of the bar, her posture deceptively casual.
To anyone else, she might have looked relaxed, just another woman nursing a beer.
But I knew better. There was a coiled tension in her shoulders, a calculated distance in how she positioned herself.
The bruises on her cheek had faded to a sickly yellow-green, but they hadn’t dimmed the predatory gleam in her eyes as she surveyed the room.
“Your daughter’s at the bar,” I said, nodding in her direction.
Tonio nodded slightly. “She is.” He observed Darby for a long moment before glancing back to me. “And?”
“She’s getting ready to cause trouble,” I added, recognizing the signs all too well.
The way she subtly shifted her weight, the slight tilt of her head, the too innocent sip of beer.
It was like watching a storm gathering on the horizon.
As beautiful as it was dangerous; inevitable no matter what you did.
Tonio’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at Darby. “You think so?” But even as he asked, I could see his own assessment confirming my read of the situation.
“Yep.” I leaned back in my chair, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth despite myself. “Let me guess. She pulled similar stunts at your place?” I asked.
“Within hours of arriving,” he confirmed, shaking his head slightly.
“She had three of my most loyal men, men who’d had each other’s backs for years and trusted each other with their lives, fighting each other with every intention of drawing serious blood.
When it was over, none of them could say why they’d been fighting.
But all three of them cast more than a couple furtive glances in her direction. ”
“Yep.” I took a pull from the beer one of the brothers sent over. Tonio followed suit with his own bottle.
“Should we intervene?” Tonio asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
I shook my head, settling more comfortably in my chair. “Nah. Not unless it turns ugly. She needs to establish herself here.” I glanced at the other man. “Besides, aren’t you curious to see what she’s going to do?”
A slow smile spread across Tonio’s face, transforming his severe features into something almost approachable. “Good point.”
I held out my bottle and Tonio clinked his to mine. “Your daughter’s about to teach someone a lesson they won’t soon forget.”
We watched Darby lean against the bar, her body language a lazy deception.
To the club girls eyeing her like wolves, she looked vulnerable.
The newcomer, the outsider, still sporting the fading yellow-green bruise on her cheek.
They’d likely see her battle scars as weakness.
Like she’d been bested in battle, when the reality couldn’t be further from the truth.
I swear I saw calculation in her gaze as she surveyed the room, though she looked like she didn’t have a care in the world.
Her expression was pleasant. Not inviting, but not a clear warning to stay away.
The bottle in her hand should have been empty.
I’d watched her turn it up and drain it earlier, but somehow it still seemed to be full.
I’d watched her carefully since she’d sat at that fucking bar.
No one had brought her a second bottle, yet now she seemed to be sipping from the beer again.
“What is she doing?” I muttered, more to myself than to Tonio.
Beside me, Darby’s father watched with equal intensity. “Creating an environment she can control.”
I nodded, recognizing the truth in his assessment.
Darby had spent most of her life controlling uncontrollable situations.
It was how she’d survived. A clubhouse full of pampered club whores would be no match for Darby.
Hell. I wasn’t sure anyone in this entire compound was capable of containing Darby if she didn’t want to be contained.
It didn’t take long for the women to surround Darby. I noticed more than one of the brothers with old ladies having to restrain their females. Darby had made an impression on everyone. Now it was time to see how she fared in the wild.
Darby took a pull from her beer bottle, her eyes never leaving the women as she lowered it. Her posture remained relaxed, almost bored, but I could see the tension in her jaw, the slight tightening around her eyes. She was scanning, calculating, preparing for whatever came next.
A blonde, Kat, I thought her name was, stepped forward, a shot glass in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other. She was the most aggressive of the club girls, with a reputation for marking her territory and defending it viciously.
“It’s rude not to drink with the rest of the whores,” she said, loud enough for half the room to hear as she shoved the shot glass into Darby’s hand. She poured the whiskey with deliberate slowness, amber liquid catching the dim light. “Unless you think you’re too good for us?”
Neither me nor Tonio liked that, but as I was about to rise and go tell a bitch to get the fuck out, Gunnar sat on one side of me while Knuckles sat next to Tonio.
“Good to see you boys.” Knuckles’ voice boomed good naturedly. Tonio looked ready to kill, but Knuckles clamped a hand on his shoulder. The gesture looked like some form of male bonding, but I recognized it for what it was. The same thing Gunnar’s hand on my shoulder meant. Wait and watch.
“I hear ya,” I muttered. “I know she can do this. I’ve seen her in action. Still don’t like it.”
“Makes two of us.” Tonio’s normally civilized tone had shifted to a baser, less cultured growl.
The insult was clear. Kat was forcing Darby to either accept being called a whore or reject the drink and look like she was setting herself apart. It was the kind of no-win situation that would have started a fight with most women.
But Darby only gave them a small smile. She accepted the glass with a steady hand, raising it slightly in acknowledgment.
“To new friends,” she said, her voice carrying just the right note of sincerity to make them pause.
Then she downed the shot in one smooth motion, not even flinching as the whiskey slid its way down.
Kat looked momentarily thrown, like she’d expected more resistance. She recovered quickly, pouring another shot for Darby and then for herself and the other women. They all drank, watching Darby over the rims of their glasses as if waiting for her to break character, to show weakness.