King didn’t react, his face cold and unreadable. Prime’s gaze flicked between us, clearly annoyed by the lack of response. Then he pressed on, his voice laced with barely controlled anger. “Griffin Reid stole product from us.”
He spat the accusation, casting a disgusted scowl in my direction. The confirmation was clear—Gavin had gotten himself tangled up with Division Nine. The shitstorm I’d suspected had Gavin’s fingerprints all over it was now officially confirmed.
Prime continued, seeming eager to lay it all out in a show of authority. “Your guy got involved with us, earned enough trust to start handling logistics, then conveniently misrouted a major shipment—thinking he could flip it himself and make a profit.” His lip curled with disdain. “Lost a fuck ton of money and even more product.”
He stopped abruptly, clearly expecting one of us to speak. But the room stayed silent, coldly indifferent to his accusations, and it clearly unsettled him. Prime shifted his weight slightly, betraying the anxiety and frustration beneath his bravado, before pressing harder. “We’re here to collect. Figure you’re smart enough to hand Griffin Reid over—or at least stay out of our way so we get justice.”
I wanted to scoff at his use of that word as if he had any idea what it really meant. But I’d been told to stay silent, and my loyalty to my president kept my mouth shut.
When King finally spoke, his voice was calm but edged with deadly seriousness. “You’ve got the wrong man.”
Prime snorted harshly, gesturing sharply toward me. “Staring right at him.”
King’s expression hardened instantly, his voice lowering dangerously. “Listen very fucking carefully. Not a single one of my brothers would ever touch that poison you peddle, let alone rip off someone they’d made a deal with. And if any one of them had, believe me, I’d have already fucking dealt with it myself.”
Prime’s eyes flashed with anger, but King’s authority filled the room like an unbreakable wall, immovable and absolute. Still, Prime pushed, a reckless edge entering his voice. “Griffin Reid is the man we want. Give him to us, King.”
King’s response was immediate and final. “Cross is a Hound. And he’s under this club’s protection. End of discussion.”
Prime’s jaw tightened, fury sparking in his eyes, but the fool wasn’t entirely stupid. He’d walked into our clubhouse and was now standing in a room filled with some of the most dangerous men he’d ever crossed paths with. Merciless. Lethal. He knew he’d pushed as far as he dared.
Without another word, he spun on his heel, but not before shooting me one final murderous glare. Stryker stepped forward silently to escort him from the room, the tension easing marginally once Prime disappeared.
The room stayed quiet a beat longer before I spoke. “So Gavin’s out there fucking around with Division Nine. Putting my name all over their damn business. The entitled, reckless bastard thinks he’s fucking untouchable.”
Blaze shifted his stance, his arms crossing over his chest. “Seems that way. Your twin’s got a serious death wish, brother.”
King nodded, his gaze calculating. “Gavin fucked up. Got greedy and ripped them off. But Division Nine doesn’t know about your twin. They think it’s you.”
Ash spoke up, his voice steady and thoughtful. “Division Nine isn’t gonna back off easily. Especially since they lost money and product. We need to handle this carefully.”
I met Ash’s eyes, understanding exactly what he wasn’t saying. This needed to be dealt with cleanly and decisively before Division Nine dragged us further into their chaos. “They’re gonna be after the whole club now—not just me.”
King’s gaze met mine directly, unflinching. “That was exactly the point, brother. They make a move against one of ours, they start a war they can’t win.”
15
HANNAH
Stella had been wonderful at keeping me occupied after King asked her to bring me to their house. I thought it was really cool that it was built onto the back of the clubhouse, giving the place an even more homey vibe. I couldn’t imagine any big parties were going on late into the night around here because King wouldn’t risk his toddler boy being woken up.
Isa played on a soft blanket on the floor while Cadell balanced his building blocks on a stacking tree with a curved bottom. He kept checking on Isa and announcing that he was practicing being a big brother as his mom and I talked. It was so sweet and well-timed since Stella was four months pregnant.
As the prez’s old lady, she seemed like the perfect biker babe, which was a little intimidating. But she’d been so welcoming that I found myself admitting, “I’m scared sometimes that I won’t be strong enough for this life with Griffin. Not that I’m giving up. I just worry I’ll crack if things get dark.”
Stella reached over and squeezed my hand. “Every single one of us worries about that. Nobody can be strong all the time when our men handle club business. But you’ll never deal with it alone. You’ve got your old lady sisters at your back. Our loyaltyto each other is just as fierce as what our husbands have for their brothers. That patch isn’t just about who we belong to—it means we’re family.”
That sounded like everything I’d ever wanted, but I shook my head. “I’m not Griffin’s old lady.”
Stella snorted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Using his real name instead of Cross says plenty. Bet you twenty bucks Isa has a baby brother or sister in less than a year.”
Before I could answer, Griffin strolled in, took one look at us, and announced, “No deal.”
Then he crossed the room in two strides, pulled me up, and kissed the hell out of me. My knees went weak while Stella laughed hysterically behind us.
King followed a moment later, kissed his wife, and murmured something soft that made her smile. While they talked quietly, Griffin and I packed up Isa’s things before saying our goodbyes.
His hand stayed on my thigh the whole way back to his house, his thumb stroking slow circles. I had a feeling he needed the contact.
