Chapter 11
ELEVEN
FORD
We had no real idea who had destroyed our outposts.
We thought we did, but after everyone brought forth their discoveries, we realized there were too many gaps and things that didn’t add up. Johnson had a map on the table in front of us, pointing with his finger. “Tire tracks led west, which would mean—”
“Fucking Death Raiders.” Rev cut in, which warranted a few murmurs and curses around the room.
I glanced up at Killian to catch his expression, but his brows were folded in, like he was trying to piece it together.
I knew this wasn’t Lance, or his club, the Death Raiders.
While the leader refused to ally with us due to the bad blood with Killian, he was willing to work with me.
We’d already set up a meeting where I gave him two cases of unregistered weapons as a sign of good faith.
“I’ll reach out to Lance and ask if they have anyone who saw which clubs were out near his club, or in Pyle.” I sat forward, pulling my cell free.
My eyes snagged on the screen.
No new messages.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but Royce not texting or calling wasn’t really it.
Although that wasn’t entirely true. She usually reacted when I got under her skin, and after last night, I knew she was pissed at me again.
I assumed I’d have at least a middle finger emoji or something from her.
The bass player I nearly killed didn’t want to press charges.
Perhaps he was warned off by discovering that I was part of a club, or it was because Royce would make her own report. Either way, he would not be a problem.
“I say we attack ’em—send a message.” Kody, one of the men at my table suggested. Killian and my dad both watched him, likely waiting to explain to all of us why it wouldn’t be a good idea to start a war with another club without solid proof, but he just stared at the map.
It was Jameson who made a sound of exasperation. I couldn’t believe they were becoming the old-timers, and that I was stuck with these other idiots.
“No need to start unnecessary shit,” I replied cooly.
Kody’s blue eyes snapped up. “But it’s obvious it’s them.”
Johnson flicked a brow up, aimed at Kody. “Just tire tracks, nothing concrete.”
I added, “I’ll reach out to Lance myself, but no one moves on their own. That’s final.”
Kody’s jaw tensed, but he gave me a nod.
Killian didn’t reply or offer his own thoughts, which on one hand was nice that he wasn’t trying to undercut my authority.
On the other hand, his agreement could have gone far with the men.
He knew what it was like to step into this role after someone else had held it.
Having the support of the previous president meant a smoother transition, which left me wondering if he had done it on purpose.
“I’ll reach out once we have news from them.” I finalized the meeting with a slam of my hand on the table. The men dispersed and began moving around the cellar. Killian headed toward the stairs, and I followed him to the top of the club.
Once we were near the office, I tilted my head. “Killian, a word?”
I could see it in his face that he was still pissed at me, his jaw was so tight it looked like he was chewing on a shit ton of gravel. I ignored my father’s curious glance as Killian trailed me into the room and shut the door, preventing anyone else from following.
“You need to say anything else to me that you haven’t already said with your fists?”
I took a seat at the desk, which would soon have my photos and my shit on it. Not his.
Laura would eventually clean out her side of the office too, making way for Johnson.
Even though her role technically shouldn’t change with the club, out of loyalty to Killian she would remove all her items from the desk across the room.
She would take her plants out, making the room look stark and empty.
It would hurt, but then again, this was the way of things.
The order was changing, and it was either a clean cut or it was a bloody mess.
Killian’s arms folded across his chest, covering the lingering president patch on his cut.
“Said all I needed to say. But can I ask what happened to your fist?”
“Then why the fuck are you freezing me out down there? And no, you can’t.”
His nose flared, and I knew I had him.
“Fine, I’m still pissed.”
I knew it. “Well, that isn’t going to work for us, Killian. The men will pick up on it.”
“Well, you being near my daughter doesn’t really work for me, Ford. So what the fuck do you want to do?”
I slowly stood from my chair and pushed it back. “Near her in what capacity? I haven’t—”
He stepped closer, slamming his hand down on the desk. “You were at her work last night, pulled her off stage and behind an employee door. You think the men are loyal to you now that you’re going to wear that patch? They were my men first.”
My face likely conveyed how angry I was getting because all I seemed to do was pull myself back from Royce, and it was still not enough.
“Your men lied to you. So fuck off with that loyalty bullshit. A bass player was feeling up Royce and pulling her behind the curtain even as she tried to break free of his hold. I ran on stage and pulled him away from her.”
“Bullshit,” he seethed, leaning over the desk.
The door to the office opened, and my dad and Jameson walked inside.
“The fuck is going on here?” Jameson asked, but my dad was the one who replied flatly.
“Royce.”
Jameson lifted his chin like he understood exactly what he meant by that.
I searched the three men standing in front of me, confused.
“What does that mean?”
Jameson flicked his eyes to my dad who let out a heavy sigh. “Think if you approached this whole thing with her differently, it would go a bit smoother, son.”
“Approached what?”
Jameson patted Killian’s shoulder, which made the Wolf finally collect himself with a shaky breath. “He can’t even admit it, so he has no place chasing her or confusing her.”
“Admit what?” I snapped, feeling irritated by their inside joke shit.
My dad was the one who sat on the edge of the desk and softened his tone. “You had a full-ride scholarship to Virginia Tech.”
My neck felt a little warm, so I rubbed it then searched each of their faces. “So what?”
His steady gaze remained on me as he continued, “You had your dorm room assigned. You had a roommate, and classes picked.”
What was he getting at?
Jameson spoke up next. “Yet you stayed.”
“My family is here, I—”
“We’re Connor’s family too, and Royce was his. He still left,” Jameson added, cutting me off.
I internally bristled at his comment, carefully ensuring it didn’t show on my face.
“Connor had his own plans,” I defended, but I knew it would fall flat because fuck, I had mine too.
Killian finally spoke again, anger still lacing his words. “Tell me the honest reason why you pissed away your entire future, and I’ll shake your hand right now and give you my blessing.”
My heart dropped to my stomach, but I wasn’t ready to have this conversation.
“I don’t need your blessing, Killian. I need your loyalty. Either give it to me or fuck off and leave. I’m not tolerating this shit.”
There was a beat of silence before my dad spoke up again.
“He’s right, Killian. You need to table this or come to a decision. He needs your support.”
Blazing green eyes would strip the skin directly from my bones if they could, but Killian dipped his face. “Fine.”
Right as I was about to leave, Johnson popped his head into the office.
“The men wanna know why the Wi-Fi is off?”
My gaze flicked quickly to the three men in the room before I cleared my throat. I couldn’t pretend this was Killian’s order, although I knew he’d back it.
“Stays off until we can get the video down.”
My second in command seemed to realize what I was referring to, and with a quick nod of his head, he exited the room as quickly as he’d entered.
My dad let out the first laugh, then Jameson. Killian didn’t join. He blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair before muttering something that sounded a lot like, “You better not break her fucking heart.”
I left the three of them in the office and slammed the door behind me.
I was a glutton for punishment as I sat exactly where I had the previous night. Right where Royce had tossed her laptop bag, her purse, and her jacket. If anything, she should thank me for keeping her shit safe. I was also keeping her safe though, which was a large part of why I was here again.
Royce had yet to emerge from the back curtain where she was helping a band set up.
This one was all women, which made me feel less stressed.
Charlie, the bartender, set two drinks in front of me.
I didn’t particularly like the sugary lavender drink that Royce ordered the night before, but I would drink it because it made her smile, and tonight that was all I was aiming for.
Finally, she slid out from behind the curtain and darted down the side stairs as the lights in the room began lowering.
Purple replaced the overhead house lights, casting the room into a dark, moody vibe.
Once the first string of the electric guitar was plucked, a deep red instantly invaded and replaced the violet tones.
The heavy bass filled the air next, and a smooth, soulful voice began singing.
The band was incredible, but my gaze was fixed on the woman cutting through a thick crowd, making her way toward me.
She was wearing fishnet stockings and a tight minidress paired with combat boots.
My breathing hitched as Royce drew closer, and I saw she hadn’t spotted me yet, which was why those pink lips were slung up into that gorgeous smile.
The second she faltered in place, white-tipped nails clutching the iPad to her chest, I knew she’d realized I had returned.
She needed a second before she seemed to blow out a huff of air that tossed the strands around her face away. Advancing, she set the tablet down and aptly ignored me.