It had been a humorous conversation on my part. At the time, I hadn’t believed I’d ever be pres of this club. But then, I’d never imagined my dad being blown up by a car bomb either.
Life sucked. I dropped my phone on the table with a blustery sigh.
Beside me, Nash was thoughtful and quiet. I wondered if I’d made a conscious decision to surround myself with brothers who didn’t shout at me. Only Rubi had stones like that, and I missed my belligerent friend.
I glanced at the antique clock on the wall. It was three in the afternoon. He’d be home by tonight, escorted by Mateo and a guard from the Lizard chapter. It boiled my blood to leave his protection to someone else, but I was the one these fuckers wanted to kill. Being close to me right now was poison.
“Cracker needs to go.” Nash’s husky voice reminded me we’d been having an actual conversation. “He’s disloyal and disrespectful, to you and the people you care about. I know you don’t want to be a tyrannical leader, but that shit can’t fly.”
“You think I’m weak, Nash?”
“The opposite, actually. I’m asking you to be weak and take the easy option. It’s harder to keep him around and deal with the consequences over and over.”
I hummed as I let Nash’s thoughts percolate with mine. Saint already wanted Cracker’s head. Mateo too. Itwouldbe easy to let them loose. But what did that make me? A bloodthirsty dictator?
No, Cam. It makes you a man who must protect his family at all costs.
Those words had never left Alexei’s lips, but somehow I heard them in his voice, and a deep ache bloomed in my heart. I was as worried about Alexei as I was about my brothers, but there was something else gnawing at me too—the soppy twat buried deep inside that feared he was ghosting me.Because this life is bullshit he doesn’t need and you talked him into getting busy with your mate.
But... no. It hadn’t gone down like that. Even if I’d been that kind of arsehole, Alexei wasn’t a man who could be talked into anything. And neither was Saint. It still blew my mind that I’d had them in my bed at the same time. Even the fact that I’d kissed Saint was too much to think about right now.
I thought about it anyway, though, tuning Nash out enough that he pulled his AirPods out of his pocket and lost himself in whatever playlist he needed to calm himself down. As the hours passed, I was glad he didn’t leave. Our self-imposed confinement suffocated me, but I didn’t feel like being alone, and Nash was easy company when he wasn’t up my arse about club business.
Maybe that was why my sister liked him so much.
A snort escaped me.
“Something funny?”
My eyes flew open. Saint was in front of me, expression unreadable, and Nash was gone. Fuck. Had I fallen asleep? I didn’t think so. The weariness in my bones was as heavy as ever, but I’d definitely left the room. “I was thinking about Nash and Orla. Should I be ragin’ that he’s banging my sister behind my back?”
“They ain’t banging. She’s lonely and he’s nice to her.”
“Sure about that?”
“What do you think?”
“That as observant as you are, you can’t have eyes everywhere.”
“It’s not about seeing. If Nash was fucking her, she’d be happier than she is.”
I absorbed that. “You think she’s unhappy?”
“Lonely,” Saint repeated. “She’s trapped here with a bunch of blokes she’s not allowed to have relationships with.”
“I don’t control her like that.”
“No, but you made it clear a long time ago that your siblings were off limits to your brothers, which is fine for River—he ain’t here—but Orla is, and she gets no fucking dice.”
I scowled. “You’re chatty tonight.”
“I’m stoned.” He waved a blunt at me, misting me with the herbal smoke. “Want some?”
Tempting as it was, I needed my wits. I couldn’t blame Saint for taking the edge off, though. If anyone hated being contained more than me, it was him.
Actually, I was surprised he was still here. I’d never managed to keep him in one place for so long before.
I eyed the joint. “Does it help? The weed?” I didn’t specify what for. He knew.
