Gent, who was seated directly across from her, smirked. “Is this an HR complaint?
“No,” she whispered.
“Floor is yours, Cleo,” Ace said.
With all eyes on her, Wraith could feel her tension. He wasn’t attuned with many people, but he was with her.
“Well.” She fidgeted in her seat. “Um, I was thinking that maybe, um, if you” —she gestured to Ace, then waved her hand across the table— “I mean, um, all of you are open to, um…”
Cross lifted his hand, silencing her. “If you take the ums out, we can cut this meeting time in half.”
She subtly nodded, bowing her head. “Sorry.”
Wraith squared his jaw and clenched his teeth, glaring at his VP. When Cross looked at him, he held out his hands and scowled. Wraith was reading his thoughts. It was a little fucking torturous listening to her stumble and stall.
“What do youwant, Cleo?” Ace asked with an edge in his tone. Cross wasn’t the only one losing his patience.
She jerked her head, her hair swinging over her shoulder. “I want to move out!”
Every muscle tightened through his body while his blood pumped swiftly through his veins. This was the last thing he expected to hear. He had given her space. Waited on her to come to him. Maybe he’d waited too long. Wraith fisted his hands, forcing himself to remain silent.
“Move out of the clubhouse?” Ace asked.
She nodded, inching closer to the edge of her seat. Her back was to Wraith, and he couldn’t see her face except for the reflection in the glass behind Ace and Cross.
“Well, if I leave that’ll open a spare room, and with Joker getting close to patching in…”
“Who the fuck said we’re patching in anyone?” Cross snapped.
“Oh well, he’s been prospecting for over a year, so I just assumed…”
Cleo was observant, more so than most people with exclusive access to the Drifters. There wasn’t a set time for how long a future brother had to prospect, but the timeframe was usually a little over a year. There’d been talk about it, and Wraith knew he’d get all the votes. Aside from a few fuckups, his most recent being with Cleo, he’d make a solid brother. Loyal to the club.
“So where you headed, darlin’?” Gent asked.
Wraith steeled his features and sent a scathing glare in Gent’s direction.
She’s not going anywhere, motherfucker.
“Well, Grizz has a little one-story cape next to his house.”
“The broken-down shack?” Cypher asked, sharing a look with Wraith. He was tighter with a few, and Cypher was one of them. “It’s not livable, Cleo.”
She shifted in her seat to face Cypher, which in turn gave Wraith the perfect view of her profile.
She licked her lips, and her throat bobbed. “But Grizz said if it’s okay with Ace that I could fix it up.”
It’s not fucking okay.
“It would take thousands,” Ace said.
She turned in her chair and quickly nodded. “And I have it. I’ve saved up everything I’ve made. And I’d still work and continue to make money, so if any new repairs pop up, I can cover them.”
Wraith folded his arms. This wasn’t some whim or wild hair. Cleo had thought about this, working every angle.She wants it.
“Why would you want to invest your cash in something that ain’t yours?
“I mean, it would be mine for as long as Grizz lets me live there.” She shrugged. “You told me to fix this, right? That’s what I’m trying to do, Ace.”
