It’s only been a few months, but I can see that Blaze loves Marley—we all do. This won’t fucking stand.
“I’m putting someone outside her apartment 24/7. And all of you with old ladies might want to do the same.” Blaze looks at me, and I nod. It’s my job to arrange security, and I’ll figure it out for everyone.
“Where are we with this, Axel?” Prince asks from the head of the table.
“I have Ace looking into all surveillance cameras around town to make sure we deal with any trespassing in Cranson Creek. He’s also digging for any dirt he can find on their Prez, Red. Guy’s a lunatic—he’s into some shady-ass shit. I’m havingmy guys do private recon as well.” I’ll make sure this problem is dealt with. Red is a slimy asshole I’ve met a time or two. “I also want to throw out that I have a bad feeling the Reapers have a hand in us getting ambushed last night. This can’t all be a coincidence.”
“I agree. This all smells like shit. Let me know if you need anything. But keep up with recon.” Prince states and then continues with the meeting.
Thirty minutes later, we’ve gone over all club business. “Anything else we need to discuss?” he asks. Everyone shakes their heads.
“Wait, I’ve got something,” Knife says from the other side of the room.
Shit. It’s weird having him back after all this time, but Knife is probably one of the most loyal brothers we have in the MC. I’d trust him with my life. Usually members who aren’t officers in the club aren’t allowed in church meetings, but with him being an officer before going to prison, we have welcomed him back into the fold.
Prince nods, giving him the floor.
“First of all, I want to thank each of you for being there for Misty and the girls. I know this shit wasn’t easy for them, but all of you stepped up when I couldn’t,” he says sincerely.
Knife and I are the same age, prospected together, and got patched in on the same night. We were still running drugs at that time, and shit was getting tense with the Feds.
We had to make a shipment, but with the DEA and ATF breathing down our necks, it didn’t seem possible. Knife, being the crazy motherfucker he is, made a deal with our Prez to help set up a new pipeline. He met with Roman Semenov, the head of the Russian mob. How he got that meeting, we’ll never know. Things looked promising until they weren’t. Semenov had a rat among his men, and the Feds raided the warehouse whereKnife and a few of Semenov’s men were meeting. They found the smallest amount of dope during their search and decided to throw the book at Knife and both of the Russians.
Knife took the fall for the whole operation, never naming anyone from the club. He was sentenced to ten years with the possibility of parole for a tiny bag of dope. But that’s what happens when you’re part of a biker club—the Feds will try to get you on anything they can. Knife served his time and got out in 5 years.
But Knife had a lot to leave behind. He and Misty had been together since freshman year of high school. We always gave him shit for being in so deep with a girl before truly experiencing club life and the women that came with it, but he didn’t care—he loved Misty. He’d claimed her in front of the club almost immediately after patching in, and they’ve been together ever since.
A month after he was sentenced, Misty found out she was pregnant with twin girls. They were devastated he couldn’t be there for the birth or the first years of their lives, but that’s what happens when you come from this life. There’s always a possibility you’ll end up in prison or six feet under.
The club stepped up and supported Misty in any way we could. The old ladies are just as close as the brothers of the club and were with her through it all. Honestly, though, Misty is a supermom. She never complained or was frustrated with the situation, just raised her girls and made sure that everyone was taken care of.
Every man at the table nods at Knife.
“It’s what we do, Knife. They’re family. You don’t have to thank us,” Prince replies.
“I know, I get it. But I just had to say it,” he says in an almost uncomfortable tone. “I don’t like talking about my emotions and shit, but what you guys did for my family, I’ll never forget it.” Hepauses for a moment and then looks right at me. “Now, let’s kick some Reaper ass!”
The room erupts with fists pounding on the table and men voicing their support.
Prez pounds the gavel, ending our meeting. I’m already heading out the door when it dawns on me—Jenna mentioned she’s Marley’s roommate. If the Reapers go to the apartment, they’ll both be in danger. I’ve only just met her, but the thought of Jenna in danger makes my blood boil. I’ll rip the limbs off anyone who lays a hand on that Angel of a woman.
“Who did you put on Marley’s apartment?” I snarl at Blaze.
“Cal and Jax are taking shifts,” he states like it’s a no-brainer. He’s texting on his phone, a cigarette hanging from between his lips as if he had gone for a smoke but got distracted by a text.
Honestly, those two are who I would’ve chosen as well. Jax is ex-Marines, and Cal is an underground MMA fighter who’s also one of our best shooters. I nod at Blaze, even though he hasn’t looked up from his phone, and walk out of the room.
I find Cal outside straddling his bike, getting ready to leave. “I want a text every hour giving me a report on what’s going on. A full fucking report.” I look at him with adon’t-even-asklook.
He smirks and whistles. “You’ve got it bad for the Teach, huh? First the coffee delivery, and now this?”
“Leave it alone, Cal. Just do it.”
“Yeah, Axe, no problem. If she’s important to you, I’ll make sure to fill you in.” He starts his bike and drives out of the lot.
“She is,” I mutter to myself.
Looking up at the sky, I know I’m royally fucked. The good thing is, no one saw her at our party except for Chasers, so I’m sure she won’t be linked to us—besides rooming with Marley. But I can’t take any chances.
