My phone buzzed to life as I buckled my seatbelt. With seconds to spare, I called Cam.
He didn’t answer and it dawned on me that there was every possibility I was already too late.
25
Cam
My phone burned a hole in my pocket. Buzzing with a call I couldn’t answer because I was jammed up in church for what seemed like the thousandth time in twenty-four hours.
In reality, it was the sixth, and my arse felt like it was moulded to the chair beneath me. My blood was congested and I needed fresh air. More than that, I needed my bike, the open road, and my brothers at my back without fear I’d lose one of them to a stray bullet meant for me.
Guilt ate at me as I glanced around the table and saw my mental fatigue echoed back at me tenfold. Cracker was legit asleep in his seat, not that I gave a shiny fuck about him.
Already reaching for my phone, I dismissed my brothers, watching as Saint left as if he had fire beneath his feet.
I tried not to track his retreat.
Failed, and so I had to watch the others too, like a creepy weirdo, until I finally allowed myself to focus on my phone screen.
Alexei.
My heart turned over. It had been three days since he’d left me in bed. Three days of silence and mystery. My calls to him had gone unanswered and unreturned and I had no idea where he was.
If he was okay.
If he was coming back.
I returned his call. Nothing happened. A dead sound reached me instead of his voice, and more dread consumed me.
Fuck. Where are you?
Three attempts to connect the call didn’t tell me. I just had to hope he’d call again.
Nash hadn’t left with the others. Leaving me to fret over my phone, he got up and booted Cracker’s chair. “Wake up and fuck off.”
Cracker opened his eyes, sleepy malevolence in his gaze before he was fully conscious. “Show some respect, pretty boy.”
Nash leaned down, his fists on the table, handsome face twisted into an uncharacteristic sneer. “Get out. Before I tell Cam what you said to Tucker about Orla last night.”
Cracker paled. He rose and flitted from the room as fast as I’d ever seen the old cunt move.
I cocked a brow at Nash. “Care to share?”
“Only if you don’t let it distract you from everything else we’ve got going on. He’ll keep.”
“I promise not to kill him today. How’s that?”
“It’ll do.” Nash sank back into his seat. “I overheard him and Tucker calling her ‘club snatch’ and discussing what they’d do with her if you weren’t such a cunt about brothers getting their dicks wet. I dealt with Tucker already, but I figured we didn’t need the dissent of Cracker’s minions right now by fucking him up.”
“That’s why you KO’d Tucker in the ring last night? I thought you were blowing off steam at being cooped up here.”
“I was. And I fucking meant it.”
“Club snatch.” I shook my head. “When will these arseholes learn it ain’t the fucking eighties anymore?”
Nash shot me a dark look. “Some of them never will.”
“You think we should clean house? I promised my dad I’d wait for them to die.”
