The president of the Blackthorn Riders relaxed his stance and gave a nod. “Got it. How long were you in?”
“Seemed like a lifetime. We were in the Sand Box a long time.”
“And you ran into trouble with the cops, huh?”
“Yes, sir.”
Dutch looked pleased by Seth’s courteous address. “Your president requested a house or condo. Now I know why.”
“Is there a place for my team and our Old Ladies?”
The other man motioned to one of his club members. “Show them where they’re staying.” He paused. “After I see the injury.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELIAS SCOWLED. COULDN’Tsay the demand surprised him, but it left no doubt in his mind that Blackthorn didn’t trust the operatives, no matter how good a job Zane had done in selling Elias’ problem and asking for sanctuary.
“You don’t have a problem with that, do you? What did an American president say? Trust but verify? Well, I’m verifying.” He pointed at Elias. “Shirt off, or you and your friends have to leave.”
“What about the women?” Shorty stepped up beside his president. “Don’t you think we should keep them as a penalty?”
“No.” Seth’s voice was pure steel. “That’s not an option. Period.”
Shorty laughed. “Have you looked around lately? You’re outnumbered.”
“Nothing new about that.”
Dutch held up his hand to prevent his men from saying anything else. “Now, don’t get bent out of shape. We won’t have to discuss your Old Ladies keeping us company if the wound checks out.”
Seth signaled Elias without taking his gaze from Dutch.
Great. He got to do a striptease in front of an enemy MC. Elias glanced at Grant. “A little help here.” With Grant and Iona’s help, he maneuvered out of his black t-shirt with minimal pain.
“Bandage, too.” Dutch motioned for him to get on with it.
Violet and Noah went to Elias. The medic unwrapped the wound and stepped to the side so Dutch and his buddies could see Elias’ injury.
Elias gritted his teeth. He hated this. No wise man bared his injuries to the enemy. Any injury revealed to the other side automatically was a weakness and became the target in a fight. “Satisfied now?”
Dutch’s hands fisted.
Old Dutch was touchy about how he was addressed. He didn’t like the borderline disrespect from Elias. Good. Something to add to the mental file on the MC leader, along with the curious certainty that he’d seen Dutch before today. But where? More importantly, if he was right, would that put the mission and the teams in jeopardy?
“Put your shirt back on so your Old Lady doesn’t feel obliged to stab one of my men.”
Elias turned to Iona and froze. She stood in front of him with a knife in her hand and a determined expression on her face. Although Violet needed to redress his wound, his priority was Iona. “Iona.”
No response.
This wasn’t good. “Baby, look at me.”
She blinked and slowly turned her head.
“Are you with me now?”
A nod confirmed what he suspected. She was back from wherever this situation had thrown her. “I need help with my shirt after Vi redresses the wound.” Knowing the medic, she wouldn’t waste the opportunity to check it.
“Hold this for me.” Violet shoved a package of bandage wrapping and one of gauze into Iona’s hands. She examined the wound and gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good, Elias. The surgeon did a great job, so you shouldn’t have much of a scar.”
