Chaos drops his hand, rapping his knuckles against the leg of his chair. “The Breed have been back in town as we suspected. They made a quick stop last Thursday. His contact said they ran as many cages as they did bikes.”
“You don’t think…” Fuck. I hope not.
“Yeah.” He meets my eye. “I do. I reckon they moved stock over our lines, even now that we've got the Sheriff sniffing around. Fuckers don’t seem to care.”
“This shit is so fucked up.” I slump against the chair and look away, catching my reflection in the mirror nestled amongst the greenery.
What I find rattles me more than what Chaos just said. Lines creep in around my eyes and mouth—age showing its hand. But it’s not the idea of growing older that frightens me. It’s the idea of becominghim. I spot the similarities in the downturn of my mouth, the darkened skin beneath my eyes. The longer I sit at the officer’s table, the more like my father I become.
Jaded. Angry. Frustrated. Bitter at the world.
I swore I’d never be him, and yet despite my best efforts, genetics has better ideas.
I’ve already ensured I’ll be alone in my old age—why not embrace the rest?
“We can’t ignore this,” Chaos says, pulling me back into the conversation.
“I know we can’t.”
“It’ll get ugly before there’s any glimpse of a resolution. We ask our people to walk into dark times without there being an obvious way out.”
“They knew the risks when they signed up.”Go ahead and parrot him, why don’t you?Really drawing on the Mongrel vibes there, Jinxy boy.
Chaos rolls his jaw left and right. “They did know. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling as though it’s my responsibility to protect them from harm.”
I study my friend. His hesitation was apparent in his furrowed brow and avoidant gaze. Chaos fidgets with the empty side plate before him, nostrils flaring every so often as he mulls over the situation. The circumstances that put him at the head of the table were horrific enough that most people wouldn’t still be standing, let alone placing the needs of others over their own. And yet, here he is, with a sense of duty to the Kings that I don’t think I’ve witnessed in anyone else.
Except my father.
They aren’t just a member of the Kings of Anarchy; the Kings are them. So ingrained in who they are, I don’t think Chaos will ever escape it.
Still, we’ve managed to keep disturbances to a minimum since we took office. Managed to steer the club in a more legitimate direction than our fathers and therefore mitigated the influence of people with far less morals than we have. Chaos has never had to head up a war. Never had to be the general and never had to make the hard calls when it came to things that not only affect our members’ lives, but theirlife.
“If you’re worried that bringing in the Fallen Aces will show you up, make you look incompetent, you can get that fucking thought out of your head right now.” I lean forward, elbows on the table. ”Everybody has to learn the hard way how to lead when clubs are at war. But I know I’d much rather have thementorship of people much more experienced than we are than trying to fuck it up alone.”
“You think we’re not capable?” Chaos asks.
“I think we’d be fools not to have the extra knowledge at the table about who we’re facing.”
“We could get that from our own.” He taps his fingers on the table beside the plate. “I’ve spoken to Iowa. They’re sandwiched right between the Devil’s Breed and us. They’ve rubbed against them plenty enough, so they’re ready to back us up.”
“They’re good people.” I flick the message on my phone open even though I don’t need to read it. “Highway finished inventory of our arsenal this morning. I’ve sent him with a shopping list to fill in the gaps.”
“Good.”
“Any news on these girls Matthias mentioned?”
He remains quiet for a while, fingertip circling the rim of the plate to the point I resist the urge to pick the fucking thing up and hurl it across the room. “Knowing they’re almost guaranteed to be here, but not knowing where is doing my fucking head in.” He huffs out his nose. “I’ve asked Darko to set up some trail cams in the blind spots around town to figure out where these convoys are going—assuming they’ll be back again.”
“They will.”
He lifts his gaze to mine. “They’re like a goddamn disease, these fuckers. You get rid of them in one place, and they pop up in another, and if you’re not careful, they fucking spread like wildfire.
“Have you heard from Smoke?” If he has, he’s kept the conversation to himself. I find it strange that the Devil’s Breed president didn’t reach out after we sent their crew home with one missing.
Chaos draws a deep, shuddering breath. “I did. But he didn’t say much, direct or indirect, so I didn’t see the point in discussing it.”
“Didn’t say much, huh?” The guy’s notorious for running his mouth.
