“How’s Stitch?” Ballistic asked, as we went down the stairs. He looked after War as he stormed through the door, hitting it so hard it banged into the wall.
“Not great,” I told him. “Doc told us to be prepared, even though everything went well. He hasn’t woken up yet.”
He nodded. “Rosa plans to stay there,” he shook his head, clearly not liking that. “I’ve sent a few people down with her.”
“I appreciate that,” I said following him to our basement Chapel.
The others were already seated around the table. War pulled up a chair for me as there were only enough for the council members. I nodded at everyone as I sat down, noting how tired they all looked. They had more to worry about than Waverley being gone and Connor being hurt. The club was under attack and it was up to them to protect every single member.
Dirt especially looked frazzled, like he hadn’t slept, despite them ordering me to go to bed last night. King sat at the head of the table, playing with an old Zippo lighter, rolling it over and over between his fingers.
“There’s been a sighting of Omen,” Dirt said.
“What?” I jumped to my feet so fast, my chair flew backwards. Everyone looked at me, but no one flinched at my outburst.
“We have intel on where he’s hiding out.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” I held out my hands, questioning why the fuck we remained sitting at this table.
“We’re doing this quietly, we’re going to watch him,” King said.
“Why do it that way?” War spoke up. He was surprisingly calm given how badly he wanted Omen. Something in his demeanor had changed after we left the hospital. He’d been quieter, more inside his head. I watched him closely, his gaze was firmly on his dad.
“Because the Kingsmen will be looking for him too. We found out from the assholes at the warehouse they aren’t happy he disappeared. Those guys don’t know anything but one did say someone wasn’t happy Omen had been left behind, they’d had plans for him. If we drop a few breadcrumbs, wait long enough, one of those fuckers might come out.”
“So we’re using him as bait, just letting him sit there, getting away with what he did?”
“He’s likely terrified,” Dirt said. “That in itself is punishment. He won’t know where the danger is coming from.”
“That’s messed up. He could have information on where Waverley is,” War said, this time his voice rising slightly.
“You think I don’t know that?” King asked, the Zippo stilling but remaining in his palm. “You think I don’t want to destroy that fucker for betraying us?” he spat. “They used him to get inside and he deserves to fucking die for that. But, we have to think smarter. Everything we do now has to be done with Waverley’s safety in mind.”
King looked at the rest of the officers. They all nodded, agreeing with his plan. King pinned War down with his eyes. I wouldn’t get a say, I was only here as a courtesy, because of my relationship with Waverley and the fact I could contain my emotions, they trusted I wouldn’t do anything reckless. Jesus, I only hoped I could prove them right.
“What about that bitch he brought in here? She with him too?” War asked.
“Not that we know of,” Dirt picked up the conversation. He went on to tell us the area Omen was seen was one of the shadier parts of town, the kind of area the resident’s kept to themselves and didn’t report anything suspicious to the cops. That worked in our favor.
“He knows if the Kingsmen don’t take him out, we will. He was a Devil before this, we will never trust him after he turned on his own club. His life is over. They know it, we know it and fucking Omen knows it.”
We all looked at Dirt. It was a solid idea, but it was another delay. My logical brain told me if it got me even one step closer to Waverley, then I was all over it.
“I have a guy floating information about his whereabouts. We’re watching the house. As soon as anyone shows we will go in," Ballistic said. “Kansas has set up surveillance.”
“You did all this while we were away?” I asked, shocked at how much work they’d done.
“I’m not just a pretty face,” Dirt pointed out with a wry laugh, which got some muted laughter from the others.
“How’s Connor?” Ink’s questioned sobered everyone.
War got up and went to the fridge at the back of the room. King watched after him as the rest of them looked to me. I explained Connor’s injuries and prognosis, eyeing War, who stood with his back to the room, drinking from a can of beer. Ballistic reiterated what he’d told me about Rosa and some protection going down to stay with him at the hospital.
While they were talking about protection, I brought up my thoughts on Declan and filled them in on who he worked for back in North Carolina. I’d thought he was just some lame punk, whose ass I wanted to kick just for touching what was mine.
King rubbed a hand over his beard. “Agreed, we’ll get someone to keep an eye on him. But pointing the cops in their direction isn’t a good idea right now. Last thing we need is the law sniffing around the Kingsmen, not with what we’re about to do to them. Cops stay out of it, for now.”
“What will you do if Declan talks?” I asked.
