All right. Well, glad that’s over and done with.
For something that felt like it should have been a much bigger deal, the moment passed without much fanfare. In the past, there would have been conflict between the guys about ego, about who was in charge, about who could do what…but I guess this is what becoming a club meant. It meant that we didn’t give a fuck about those things, at least no more than we had to.
I was never big into it, to be frank. I just wanted some fucking Bandit blood on my hand. But it sure was nice to not have to worry about the rest of the club bickering and bitching about how things went.
“Katie suggested we use the store as a setup,” I said after no one else said a word, feeling like we had to say something. “I thought it was fucking stupid. Would rather not get civilians involved.”
But Brock, nor anyone else for that matter, didn’t seem nearly as concerned. They all looked at me with a curiosity to learn more, a sort of interest in what Katie’s store could possibly do. What had happened yesterday was probably playing a part in my disinterest, though I refused to accept that as such.
“What did she say?” Brock said. “Did she say how we could use her store as a setup?”
“No,” I said.
“Well, we could use more allies if we get the chance,” Brock said. “Connor, I need you to go and talk to her. Get more details on how she could use the store to set up an attack.”
“You’re fucking serious?”
“You got a better idea?” Brock said.
He gave me a look that seemed to say, “I can make this personal really fast if you keep fighting back.” It probably wasn’t much of a secret to anyone that Katie and I had banged yesterday—yesterday. Seems like a fucking year ago—but still. I liked to keep private things private, and I felt pretty sure that everyone else in the club felt the same way.
“Other than trying what we did two days ago by invading Damian’s house, no.”
“We already looked into that, actually,” Brock said. “I sent a prospect out driving by his neighborhood. The place is crawling with Bandits. More fucking Bandits than ants on some rotten food. To go in there this way would be a suicide mission.”
Well, shit.
“And given that I would rather not have this war decided by Sheriff Davis or some random fed, I want us to explore every quiet option we have, which, at the moment, is one,” Brock said. “So get your ass over to the store. Talk to Katie. And report back to us with what you get. Go.”
Brock’s face left no room for negotiation. Maybe this was the real reason why he hadn’t ripped me to shreds when I walked in—because he knew he’d need me, and if it felt like he’d done me a favor, I would do it more easily. Fucking hell, he was right.
We were friends, but there was club business to be done. I’d just have to suck up the fact that I’d have to deal with an angry Katie some more.
* * *
When I pulled up to the store, Katie came out to meet me. I was determined to do nothing more than get information from her; if there were unresolved feelings for each other, we would take care of them at the appropriate time. De facto making war strategies was not one of them.
She had a look of rugged determination on her face, the look that reminded me, really, of myself and Brock. She looked like she had moved past all of the bullshit of yesterday. That was probably a little exaggerated—I could not forget her anger yesterday—but she certainly moved on much quicker than I would have thought she would.
“Come to protect or rob me?” she said dryly.
“Protect you from the robbers by fucking them up,” I said. “Brock sent me here. We want to learn more about your plan with the Bandits.”
Katie smiled. It was the smile someone gave when they finally had a chance to have their voice heard, to have their plans put into action after being ignored for far too long.
“I don’t have anything detailed set out yet,” she said. “But follow me to the office. We need to talk somewhere privately.”
Alarm bells went off in my head, wondering if Katie was inviting me back for something more than just talking. But no, the speed with which she turned and walked back into the store suggested I had assumed too much.
It was almost a damn shame, really. She was great in bed, and, well, she was great as a person. She was making me think about questions and look at myself and her in a way I never would have otherwise. It would have been terrible if, in the span of a day, we’d gone from lovers to fuckers to enemies to neutral. Even for someone as even keeled and reserved as me, that was a bit much.
Her office was not big at all—it was more like a closet that she had set up a desk and a laptop in. I leaned against the far wall since she only had one chair and not enough space to spread my arms out. But it was private, and to be fair, how often did she really need the space for anything bigger?
“So what, your plan is to drag him in here and fuck him up?”
“Funny, no. That was my plan for you yesterday.”
My eyes went wide.
