When he bobs his head towards Griffin, Abbey scoffs, but relaxes back again, her eyes falling to her daughter.
“So you’re here as a scare tactic?” she asks, and Devon shrugs.
“Did it work?”
She flips him off again.
“Getting back on track,” Griffin barks, glancing at his watch. “You know what Ewan wants now. So, start planning for it. Figure out a way to challenge Smitty without being fucking obvious. Use him as a scapegoat if you have to. Just get it done soon.”
“How fucking soon?” I snap.
“Ewan would say yesterday. I, however, will play interference until the end of the month.”
Griffin stands as if that’s the end of the fucking conversation, so I stand too, stepping in his path as he tries to pass.
“And once it’s done? Once I’m in the role I never wanted to be in, what will he ask of me then?”
“Just that you don’t run the club like a crazy fucker and be sure to stick to those morals of yours.”
“That’s it?” I ask and he nods.
“That’s fucking it.”
Clapping me on the shoulder, Griffin steps around me and moves to Abbey to get a better look at Bobbi, but my wife is done with these Marx men right now, and she shifts away, not letting him get close.
I try to picture myself as the Southern Sadists President with Abbey by my side, but right now, it’s hard to see.
I’ve never wanted that role in the club. I was hoping to step away from it a bit more once all this shit is over, and focus on my new little family. Maybe make it bigger if Abbey is keen on that idea.
But fuck me. How am I meant to do that and run an outlaw club?
It’ll put a bigger target on my back, and in turn, Abbey’s too.
“How long will I be expected to remain the President?” I spin, facing Griffin, and it’s like he was waiting for me to ask.
“You’ll have to ask Ewan. If you’re lucky, he’ll let you walk away in maybe five years.” Griffin shrugs. “Maybe ten. Who knows?”
Five or ten fucking years…
When Abbey’s eyes meet mine, I instantly see the uncertainty in them.
She’s not going to want an MC life for her or Bobbi. And fuck. I don’t blame her.
Maybe this is what the real payment is. I’ll have to give up her and everything I love, just to keep protecting her.
Fuck Ewan Marx. The only reason he agreed to give me his men was so that he could take control of yet another fucking thing.
Grinding my teeth, I reach out and take my wife’s arm, gently escorting her to the door, her distraught expression nearly fucking breaks me.
When we step out into the passage, Jared’s and Dee’s glares are directed at the Marx men, and I get a little satisfaction that even though they are both on the Marx payroll, their real loyalty lies with Abbey.
Walking out to the car with us, Dee and Jared dote over Bobbi, and swoop in for a closer look when Abbey puts her into the car seat.
When Jared gives my wife a hug, I don’t even get jealous, because, fuck. I know he’d protect her. Maybe even better than I can, given this new fucking turn of events.
I give them a few minutes to say their goodbyes, and not long after, we’re back on the road towards Fox Pines, the streetlights of Redfield fading as we drive onto the pitch black country roads.
“Let’s just keep driving,” Abbey whispers, and I glance her way to find those big doe eyes already looking at me. “Don’t go back to the club. Let’s just go. Leave this place behind and start over somewhere else.”
