“Yeah, we don’t need that shit. Next thing we know, we’ll have Feds coming out of our asses. I do not want DEA agents crawling all over our mountains.”
“Ugh.” Mav rested his head back on the bench, staring up. “That always starts a chain reaction. DEA, then ATF, and fucking FBI. Christ, do I hate the fucking FBI.” He scrubbed a hand down his face as he sighed.
Once upon a time, Stephanie worked for the FBI. After a series of screwed-up events, including Stephanie and Maverick being taken hostage together, the FBI sent her in to infiltrate the MC. Instead, she fell in love with Mav and almost ended up in a cell alongside the rest of the club. The FBI hung her out to dry, and she walked away without looking back. To say Mav carried a bitter grudge would be the understatement of the century.
“Let’s not jump the gun.” Rocket set his fork down as he looked at Mav. “For all we know, these guys are low-level dealers who’ll leave town without a problem. Wait to freak out until we have to.”
“Yeah.” Mav sighed. “You’re right.” He rolled his shoulders, then went back to his food. “That shit gets me riled.”
Made sense. Saint couldn’t imagine being married. He couldn’t even imagine being in a serious relationship. Most of the time, he assumed he was too intense to commit to someone else. He’d go off the fucking rails every time someone looked at his partner sideways, let alone threatened them. There’d be a pile of bodies in his wake, casualties of his possessive and distrustful nature. What woman would put up with that?
Though he came by most of his issues through nurture rather than nature, growing up powerless to shield his siblings from major abuse turned him into a feral animal when it came to the security and happiness of those he loved.
They dug into their food, eating in silence for a few moments. Melody came by to refill their cups, and Saint made sure to keep his gaze on his plate and avoid engaging with her. He liked the woman but had no plans to lead her on or indulge her flirting.She’d ramped it up lately, and sooner or later, he’d have to have a conversation he dreaded.
As he swiped the last bite of his waffles through a puddle of syrup, Copper’s phone rang.
“Sorry, guys, it’s Shell.” In all the time he’d known Copper, Saint had never seen him ignore a call from his ol’ lady. Prez made it clear his wife and daughter came first. Some would consider that a weakness, but Saint admired the hell out of it.
“Hey, baby,” Copper said as he held the phone to his ear. “Hold on. Slow down.” His expression turned to stone, and his shoulders went rigid. He gripped the phone so hard his fingers blanched. “What?”
That one word, said with such cold lethality, had a shiver running down Saint’s spine. Instantly on full alert, he shoved his plate away and focused on every detail he could ascertain from Copper’s body language and words. Mav and Rocket also picked up on the change in mood, abandoning their meals and focusing entirely on Copper.
“Baby, breathe,” Copper said. After a short pause, he continued. “I just need to know two things right now. Is she safe, and is she hurt?”
She?Who the fuck were they talking about? One of the ol’ ladies?
Shell spoke for a few seconds, and while Saint understood why Copper wouldn’t put a call like this on speaker phone, his insides screamed for more information.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes. Tell her she did good, baby. God, I fucking love you too.”
As Copper lowered the phone, his dangerous gaze met Saint’s. His enforcer skills would be needed. He could feel that in his bones before Copper even spoke.
“One of these fucks approached Beth.”
Oh fuck.Ice slithered down Saint’s spine.
“Shell’s bringing her to the clubhouse now.”
He shot out of the booth so fast that a rush of wind sent a pile of napkins skittering to the floor, not that he cared. After tossing a twenty on the table for his meal and tip, he beelined to his bike. His brothers could dine on his exhaust before they caught up. He wasn’t waiting.
Every protective instinct he’d ever had screamed at him to get to her.Now.
Someone was going to die today.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“COME IN,” BETH said to the soft knock on her door. It’d be her mother. They were the only two at home. Copper had club business, and her siblings in their late teens were out and about living their lives.
Cassie, who’d become her surrogate grandmother after moving in when Beth was a child, went on a six-month cruise with a band of wild senior ladies. Beth wouldn’t see her for quite a while.
Sure enough, Shell opened the door and stepped into the room Beth had slept in since she was a child. It no longer had posters of her favorite shows or fairy lights, but Shell insisted it would always be Beth’s room, no matter where she lived or how long she stayed away.
“Hey, honey, what are you up to?”
“Just reading.” Beth set her e-reader on the armrest of the plush recliner her parents bought sometime after she moved out. “I like this chair here. It’s a good addition.”
“Thanks.” Shell must have recently finished a workout. She wore running shorts and a black sports bra with her blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail. “So…” she said as she walked into the room in her socked feet and sat on the side of the queen-size bed near Beth.
