“You can’t go home,” Saint growled.
“You think I’m fucking stupid?”
He said nothing and the lack of denial enraged me, though it wasn’t Saint I was angry with.
“Whatever. I’m not caging myself here. I’ll kill myself before any other fucker does.”
“You should still lay low,” Nash said. “You got a bird you could roll with for a few days?”
“Nope.”
“For real? You got no one on the hook?”
I shifted my death glare to him. “Be fucking serious.”
“You could go to Bristol,” Saint said. “To the accountant.”
I swung my gaze to him. He didn’t blink. “Even if I wanted to hide like a fucking pussyhole, you think a two-time hook-up is gonna want a houseguest?”
Saint stepped closer, sucking all the air from the room with his fiery stare. “Yes.”
It was the whackest plan I’d ever heard, but in that moment, Saint did something to me I couldn’t explain, and I found myself considering it and nodding like a damn fool.
Saint relaxed a touch and my bemusement deepened. I was used to not knowing what the fuck went through his head, but the sense that he knew something I didn’t twisted me up.
“Saint—”
Nash cleared his throat. “We haven’t got time for this. He needs to go.”
The spell shattered. Saint’s mask slipped into place and so did mine. He stepped back, jerked his head at Nash, and left.
I couldn’t deny he took a piece of me with him, but I had other things on my mind too. So. Many. Things.
Nash stood and came to my side. He perched on the table, looking as frazzled as I felt. “None of this matters if you get killed. There isn’t enough money in the world to replace you.”
“Someone doesn’t agree with you.”
“And we’ll find them. But until then, you need to stay safe.”
I growled. “I’m not leaving my brothers to fight without me.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’m saying, let us do some digging for a couple of days while you get some fucking rest. You’re banged up, Pres. You’ve got bruises on bruises on those fucking ribs.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re still not selling this to me.”
“Okay, put it this way: if you don’t put yourself somewhere safe for a couple of days, Saint is gonna run himself into the ground trying to be everywhere at once, and we can’t afford that.Hecan’t afford that in the situations we put him in. You want him spread so thin some fucker gets the jump on him?”
Another discontented rumble escaped me, but not for myself this time. Nash had me, and not because it was Saint, but because he was right. My brothers needed to protect themselves and protect the club, and I needed to help them do it. “Okay.”
“You gonna go to the accountant?”
“I’m gonna put it to him. Can’t say I’m sure of his answer.”
“Saint must be if he suggested it. He doesn’t usually like the blokes you bang.”
“He doesn’t know any blokes I’ve banged.”
Nash snorted. “Okay, mate.”
