Chapter 5 Ford #2
“Fuck, kid. You don’t stop, do you?” Killian grumbled, running his hand over his head. It was one thing hearing it alone, but now in front of everyone was testing my resolve.
“Underwear, okay?” Killian snapped. “She’s modeling fucking underwear according to what I heard. If you look up that video yourself, I’ll cut your fucking fingers off, Johnson.”
My second man in charge lifted his hands in defense. “I’m not. Jeez. I would never look at your daughter like that.”
“Well, the issue is, half the internet is…so what are we going to do about it?” My dad asked, leaning back in his chair.
Killian continued, “According to my wife, Royce shot this ad nearly a year ago, so the timing of this popping up now is questionable.”
Dad glanced up at me, then back at Killian. “With the outposts being taken out, now this…it’s not coincidental.”
Killian let out a heavy sigh. “This situation with Rodney giving her this bullshit ultimatum of keeping things quiet here for three months, the outposts, and now this. Maybe I’m wrong, and the company is pushing the ad themselves, but my gut tells me it’s someone trying to start shit up.”
I had to agree. Regardless of why it was out there, if it had been shot over a year ago, it didn’t make sense that it was suddenly going viral. But I hadn’t seen the video myself, so I wasn’t sure if there was some ulterior reason that could be happening.
Voicing a few thoughts, I asked, “Have you asked Taryn about it, maybe see if she knows of some trend that could have pulled that video out?”
Killian shook his head. “She’s giving me a whole different set of issues we’ll need to address at some point.”
Why would that require the club’s involvement? It was something I would have to push aside for now.
“What needs to be done?” Rev directed his question to me, which I knew he did on purpose. The men were supposed to show me the same respect they once did Killian.
“I’ll talk to Royce to see what she knows about the ad.”
Killian’s eyes blazed with anger as he lifted his head and focused on me. “Why the fuck would you be the one to talk to her?”
“Because I’m the president of the club, Killian, and I need to deal with this. Aside from that, I’m her age and she doesn’t care what I think of her.” I acted like I didn’t give a shit about this one way or another, but I didn’t like the way his implication dug at me.
Right as Killian opened his mouth to argue, Rev spoke again, “We have hackers we will reach out to, get it removed from the internet, maybe they can help us trace the source too.”
I gave him a nod of approval. “Take Johnson and Logan to help.”
“Regarding the outposts. I want to hear what each of you found, but we also need to talk about Rodney.” My tone was sharp, getting everyone’s focus.
“The Hollow is currently owned by Bernie Hatfield, who is going to sell it. I plan to buy it for the club, but I need Rodney out of the way. Put a few details on him. I want to know who he’s talking to and why he gave Royce that three-month ultimatum.
He wanted her worked up enough that she’d reach out to us about the change in leadership.
It was calculated. He’s likely hoping to use her like a game piece to shove us into position.
We know he’s working with a rival club. We just need confirmation on which one that is. ”
Killian cleared his throat. “Let’s skip the detail and bring him in then.”
Scaring him was a balancing act. Too much fear and he’d skip town or even hurt Royce. Not enough fear, and he might walk all over Royce by dragging this three-month bullshit out. Of the two outcomes, I was more comfortable with the latter, but like hell was I about to admit that to Royce’s father.
“I think meeting him where he’s at will be more insightful with who he gives up. Coming into the club under duress will make him say shit that likely isn’t even true.”
Jameson’s gaze slid over to Killian who had his brows drawn in. Did he know that I was using his daughter as a pawn? Even if he did, I didn’t care. There was a reason I was now sitting in this chair and he wasn’t.
Johnson somehow found another sweet treat to chew on while asking. “What do we do if we see him meeting with someone while we’re out and about?”
“Be discreet.” I explained by spreading my hands on the table. “Take pictures if you can and report it as soon as possible. We know he’s talking to someone; we just want to know who benefits from us not changing leadership for three months, and why.”
A text lit up my phone. I recognized that it was Yeti, one of the older members that had been a part of Killian’s regime.
Yeti: I gotta wolf cub up here.
My stomach tensed as I texted back quickly.
Me: Which one?
Yeti: Oldest. She’s drawing quite a few eyes.
Me: Why is she here?
Yeti: You know I don’t know that. I already tried talking to her, she handed me a basket of cookies and hugged me. I couldn’t kick her out after that.
Fuck.
“Everything okay?” Killian asked, taking a sip from his beer.
I glared at my phone, unsure how to reply.
It was one thing to pull Royce aside and chat with her about the video, to which Killian seemed to barely agree.
But it was something else entirely to have his daughter be seen in the club after the rumors about her video began circulating.
I’d need to get her out before her father caught wind of it, or else he’d take that shit out on the prospects who likely had no fucking clue she was his daughter and completely off-limits.
“Yeti has a situation upstairs that I need to go address. I’ll be back.
” I slid out from my chair and glanced over at Johnson.
He already knew that meant he needed to step in and keep things going.
I didn’t have an official vice-president yet, but some of the men around the table were still hoping Killian would take up that role so he stayed as a connection to the new members and old.
It would be smart, and while I respected and trusted him, I also wanted to begin my own legacy.
Johnson began talking about the outposts as I jogged up the stairs and pushed through the door leading from the cellar.
The music blasting in the club hit me first. It was a low, melodic beat that was familiar but not.
Like a remix or something. I liked that it was different from the classic rock or other modern shit the guys always picked.
Men wearing leather cuts were huddled around the two pool tables in the main room.
A few were sitting on the couches, Sweetbutts were in men’s laps.
Bunk bunnies that I’d seen around were tucked under the arms of a few members.
I bypassed people, and the ease in which I did was a relief.
My balloon of anonymity was about to pop as soon as it became public that I was the one leading this club instead of Killian.
The second he stepped on the floor, he drew people to him.
The women were smart enough to stay away.
After he’d been married for well over twenty years, no one even tried to approach him in that way.
Killian was a faithful man, like my father and Jameson were.
They didn’t touch any woman who walked through those doors, never had.
Someone shouting had my head swiveling. I needed to locate Killian’s oldest daughter.
I should have known she’d be over by the Alexa touchscreen.
She was leaning against the counter with her heart-shaped ass swaying in a pair of jeans that drew my gaze.
I forced my eyes up, like I always did. No matter how badly it burned that the men next to her hadn’t stopped staring, or that one of them looked like he was two seconds from touching her.
The two members hanging near her tried to talk to her, but she seemed focused on finding a song to play, like it was a jukebox.
“Royce.”
She ignored me, swiping her finger over the screen. Jay, one of the members drooling over her, flicked a quick look at me before stepping closer so I could hear him.
“We got her. We’ll make sure she’s out of sight as soon as her pops comes up.”
Jay was going to get his ass beat after I got Royce out of here.
“No need, she’s leaving with me.” My tone was sharp, and my patience was practically gone. She still wasn’t turning around. “Royce.”
“I’m looking for a song, Ford,” she yelled over the music while focusing on the screen. Jay laughed into his beer while the other member, Zane, seemed to also think it was funny.
It wasn’t so much that they were standing too close to her, it was that I didn’t have the time to sit here and play whatever game this was. Which was the reason my hand shot out and why my fingers curled inside the back pocket of her jeans and yanked her away from the counter.
Her back was against my chest within seconds, her hair against my nose.
I unfortunately inhaled, and a memory I was sure had been buried, resurfaced.
We were kids in elementary school. Maybe eight or nine…“We’re stuck as gym partners, Ford. I know you’re not my biggest fan, but I’ll stay out of your hair if you stay out of mine.”
“Your hair is always in the way,” I said snidely, uncomfortable with how happy I was that she was my partner.
She turned around in front of me, forcing her curls to bounce near my chin.
“Then help me put it in a ponytail. I’m not good at it yet, and Mom didn’t have time to do it for me this morning.”
I had no reason not to help her. If I didn’t, then her hair would be in my way and distract me the entire class period.
So, I gathered the thick strands into my fist, and when she held out her purple hair tie to me, I wrapped it around her hair and made sure it held.
But even as I tried to hold my breath, the smell hit me when she ran her hand down her hair.
Roses.
Royce Quinn smelled like roses in the strangest, sweetest, most infuriating sort of way.