The door slams behind me as I walk into the clubhouse. Nero is gonna give me shit because I’m not sticking to his plan, but what fucking good am I standing around in a hospital waiting room. He has Beast and Nashville there, as well as three other brothers and the two strippers from the club.
I don’t think Ellie will give one shit either way if I’m there or not. Especially given she is in surgery for God knows how long anyway. We could all up and leave, and she wouldn't know.
Ellie is great, she does good work for the club, not just running Elegance, our strip club, but she does side work for us too. We’ve never been close, I don’t know her like some of the other guys do.
My cell rings as I head to a small back room where we keep an armory in case we need something close in an emergency. Only myself, Nero and Fury have a key to this room. Taking out the phone, I see my sister is calling and decline it, pushing it back into my pocket. A normal person might be concerned that their sister is calling in the middle of the night. Not me, Raven is a night person, she's always been the same and knows I'm often up late.
Fury and Stryker have gone out looking for the man who stabbed Ellie. After scouring facial recognition after the attack, Blaze figured out he is a low-level mafia member from a Finnish family in West Virginia. Coincidentally, where our arch fucking nemesis is currently hiding. I'm doing my part to find this bastard too, I will not stand around waiting for others to do it first.
Checking the clips in the two Glocks are loaded, I put one in each holster under my cut.
Nero isn’t acting fast enough for my liking. It’s been the same for the last few weeks now. We’ve argued back and forth when no one else is around about how we are going after Storm. With each attempt Storm makes to harm the club, I get more and more pissed off.
I want to be out on the streets, find the bastard and end this once and for all. Nero wants to be careful, take his time, and do it right.
And I was all for that, because Nero is the brains and heart of this club. No one doubts that, even if some of the other brothers whisper that he is getting soft because he’s taken an old lady. I know him better than that. The rage rippling under his skin is as clear as if he were throwing chairs and shooting up places he knows Storm frequents to find him.
If anything, having Storm go after his best friend, son and old lady has made him more determined to find and end the bastard. He just wants to do it carefully. And when we strike, we do it in a way he never sees coming. We have to make sure it takes out not just him, but anyone working with him. Leaving people out there with a grudge against us is what caused this whole mess in the first place.
It’s the right way to do it, but I’m sick of sitting on our asses, watching and waiting for Storm to make his next move. Nero and I are almost always in complete agreement, but with this, we're beginning to veer off on how it should be handled, which is causing some strain between us. Above all, Nero is the President and what he says goes. Usually, he is fair, he hears us out.
Somewhere, deep down, I know he is right, but I've always been reactive. I want to end this now, not after a tactical battle where more people get hurt.
My phone rings as I lock the door, and again, it’s my sister. She’s probably heard about Ellie. Raven is going to keep calling until I answer because she is that level of annoying and petty. She is my sister and Ilove her, but the club comes above everything else. She will have to wait, but I tap out a quick text saying I'm in the middle of something and only to call or message me back if it's an emergency. When nothing comes back, I put away the phone and get back on mission.
This Kivisto asshole isn’t at the hotel Blaze tracked him to. If he’s got any sense, he’d have figured out we'll find him and he has gone somewhere else to lie low after failing his mission.
I’ve already put out calls to at least six guys I have around the city who, in turn, have put out feelers to their networks. If this prick raises his head, one of my guys will find him.
The clubhouse is still empty when I walk back across the main room to the front door, I didn’t bother parking the bike out of sight in the warehouse and the bar has been closed for a few hours now so it’s dark in there too when I step outside.
With only streetlights guiding me back to where my bike is parked, I move fast, antsy to get out looking. I know this place as if it were a part of me, and I know everything around it and what should be here and what shouldn’t.
When something moves out of the corner of my eye over by the church across the street, I reach for my gun and crouch down behind by bike. Everyone says I'm a little reckless, hence the road name. I've been taking care of myself and my sister for years, been a part of this club, playing my part to protect. I'm more than capable of handling whatever this is.
Provided it's not more than a couple of people. Storm has never been the same as the rest of us. He uses pack mentality, never going after anyone himself. Tonight is a perfect example of that. Fucker sending someone else in to hurt a woman. My heart is pounding in my ears and my adrenaline is skyrocketing, but all of my focus is on one dark corner to the side of the church.
Holding my breath, I keep watching, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me, until I see it again. There is someone there. Someone who shouldn’t be sneaking around out here at this time of night. My head is telling me to call for backup, but even if I needed to, I don’t have time for that. This threat is imminent.
What the fuck would Storm come here for anyway? The pumping of my heart gets harder, I can feel the violence burning in my veins at thethought of him using Ellie as a distraction. There is nothing here. Unless there is… something we don’t know about? Is that why Storm did this? He wants something out of the clubhouse... Or he wants to destroy it.
Fuck. Weighing up my options quickly is something I'm adept at. I pull out the phone, ready to send a message to Blaze. He is the one person who is guaranteed to check his phone.
A shadow stretches across the sidewalk as the person moves out of the darkness. My eyes move quickly, taking in the surroundings, checking for anyone else.
They're not hiding, walking into the circle of light of a streetlamp, passing through at a normal pace. It doesn't look like they're trying to hide, apart from the dark clothes, hood drawn up and a bag over their shoulder. He’s small, kind of wiry. Definitely not Storm. From what I saw of Kivisto on the cameras, though, it could be him. Maybe. The shadows cast around his face make it difficult to identify him.
He stops, looks around, not toward the clubhouse but at the church, then he sets down the pack and bends over. Whoever it is, he's alone. I lock the phone and push it back into my pocket, my other hand tightening around the gun.
It’s now or never. My head is running in a million different directions of what could be in the bag he is pulling something out of. What the fuck is he doing?
Not to my goddamn clubhouse. I don’t give a fuck what he’s planning. I’m ending this.
On silent feet I move around the bike and between two parked vehicles, keeping low, watching as he sets something down beside the bag. Then he straightens, his back to me, and I make my move. At the same time, he lowers the hood, and long dark hair spills out. All I see is an assailant, someone who doesn't belong here, wanting to attack my club, my heart, my fucking world.
The only reason I haven’t already fired a shot is because I don’t have a silencer, and if I can take this guy out without a sound, even better.
I’m two steps away when he turns, but I'm moving too fast to stop the collision. The hoodie is unzipped, dark hair spilling over the white low-cut shirt with a strange logo I don’t recognize, barely covering a body that I am unprepared for.
