“I’ll work on it.”
“Goddamnit, Lily—” I cut him off before he can lecture me.
“It’s late. Can you yell at me tomorrow?” He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.
“Fine, good-fuckin’-night,” he replies gruffly.
I smile and shake my head as I go upstairs and crawl into bed. I’m too excited and giddy from my encounter to sleep, so instead I just lie there and plot.
What if Axel isn’t the only member of the Dead Palms that might help sway the tide in my favor?
The partylast night was a little out of hand, and it’s clear that some guys drank more than their fair share. But work needs to be done, and if these guys want to patch in, they need to earn it.
We all woke up late as hell. The sun is already setting as we ride down to the warehouse to get what we need for tonight. Tate, Cash, and I are riding our bikes while Ambien and the prospect, Kyle, are driving the cage behind us.
It’s about time we saw some fuckin’ action around here. We’ve been lying low for way too long. Rival clubs are getting a big head, and they absolutely need to be put in their fuckin’ place. It doesn’t hurt that I suddenly seem to have moremotivation lately. Motivation in the form of a tiny, dark-haired Omega who also wants me.
I get why the Prez and her brother want to keep her safe, but the fact is no one can keep that biker princess more safe than I can. It doesn’t hurt that the club stands firm on how we treat women, especially Omegas. I don’t have a full-blown plan on how I intend to make this all work, but I’ll be damned if I let the Prez ship her off to some fuckin’ stuck-up group of rich pricks.
The warehouse is a decent ride away, and it gives me some time to think. It would be one thing if I could just bond with her. There would be no disputing that she was mine. What I need, regrettably, are some Alphas that can help me keep Lily right where she belongs, at the club, with me.
The clubhouse is safe, and I’ll always protect her. Plus, we keep everything near the clubhouse on the up and up besides a little laundering here and there. Nothing big enough to cause a stir or get the feds up our ass. We store all the goods or illegals offsite and off the beaten path.
The warehouse is technically Heath’s sister's place. She’s a nurse and completely off any law enforcement radar. She barely even spends any time at the club. Until we came along, she was using the house as a rental property, and I guess she still does… it’s just the club that’s renting from her now.
Tate rides beside me, and I can’t help but wonder what his deal is. I wasn’t part of the club when he left. I know he’s the Prez’s son, but I’m wondering how similar they are. Prez likes his rules to be followed to a fuckin’ T, and sometimes that shit pisses me off.Well, maybe it’s just the specific rule about his stepdaughter being off-limits.
God, the things I want to fuckin’ do to that girl.
I will eventually, now that I know full-and-damn-well that she wants me as much as I want her. I’ve just got to find a way to keep her, make her mine forever. Because the thought of herleaving and joining another pack makes me murderous. And I’m not above killing someone to keep her. All I want is for her to be mine, to make her feel good, to give her the world. I thought nothing could be more important to me than the club, but I think Lily could easily become the one thing that tops it; she’ll be my entire world.
I’ll never be able to be a law-abiding citizen with the white picket fence and all that shit. But for Lily, there’s a lot of fuckin’ lengths I find myself willing to go to so she’ll be happy. I just have to be cautious and smart, especially because I keep having thoughts of kidnapping her, which I can’t act on. At least, not for now… it’s option C, for sure.
We’ll figure this out.She’ll be mine soon enough. I keep chanting this in my head so I can focus on the task at hand.
The sun is nearly completely set and even though it’s still humid, it feels nice not to have the sun blazing at my back. We all shut our engines off and hop off our bikes. Cash is the only one who wears a helmet, and after he tucks it on his seat, we head into the stowaway house.
“How big is the warehouse?” Tate asks.
“At least three thousand square feet,” I reply as I grab a pistol and a bag of weed.
Tate is digging around the materials we have like they aren’t a fuckin’ explosion hazard.
“You wanna be a little more careful there, pal?” I joke, and he glares at me.Definitely see a resemblance to the Prez in that glare.
“How big of a message are we sending?” Tate asks.
“A really fuckin’ big one,” I answer, and Cash nods his head. He’s grabbing another handgun and so does the prospect. Ambien is in another room, gathering more shit.
“How many guards do you think they have right now?” Tate asks.
“I’m guessin’ they sent their prospects to stand guard. It’s their annual seafood thing.”
“Seafood thing?” Tate parrots.
“I can’t fuckin’ remember what it’s called, but they do it every year, same day in July,” I explain, trying to remember what the fuck the event is called. Not that it truly matters.
Cash just shrugs his shoulders. He’s quiet, and it makes me curious about him. He was a fully patched member in Jacksonville but became a nomad shortly before that chapter got busted. It’s enough to make me suspicious and to be more cautious around him.
