“Even if it’s deemed that there’s enough evidence to support your claim on Leeva being your old lady, if she doesn’t want you, you can’t force her to be with you. Iwill notallow it. This MC”—he shoves his gun harder into Guerilla’s chin, forcing his head back further—“does not condone forcing women to do any-fucking-thing. Understood?”
Guerilla’s eyes—almost washed out compared to the vibrant, deep blue of Hayes’ eyes—ping-pong over Ash’s face.
“I said, understood?” Ash grits through clenched teeth.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Guerilla swallows hard. “Yes, prez.”
He shoves his weapon into the back of his jeans and turns, forcing Guerilla to stumble back as his shoulder slams into him. He jerks his chin at my security team and motions for us to follow him.
Then I’m walking toward the clubhouse, hoping and praying that Hayes and I haven’t just signed his death warrant.
Chapter 43
Army
I’macaged,feralanimal, ready to rip anything and anyone to pieces for keeping me from my mate.
It’s been hours since Leeva was brought to the ‘examination’ room, set up for every member of the MC to come and inspect her like some freak.
Ursula and Keifer are in Ash’s office with me. It’s a shit way to meet the love of your life’s extended family, especially given our unique situation.
We haven’t said much to each other; Ursula is as stressed as I am. She and Keifer bicker like cats and dogs, but even with that, I can tell their sibling bond is one of loyalty. Nothing like the sibling bond—or lack of—between Guerilla and me.
Bane stands guard in the hall, preventing anyone from coming into Ash’s office and barring us from leaving. There are men standing guard outside the window, protecting that route.
The three armed men, who are all Ursula’s boyfriends and ex-Special Ops, are with Leeva. Ash is with her, too, along with Tats to answer questions about tattoos.
Bane refuses to keep me updated about what’s going on. The only thing he said was that they had set up a video conference with the cosmetic surgeon to explain the procedures he did for Leeva’s tattoo removal. Maybe that was to put people’s minds at ease that this wasn’t some voodoo magic shit.
I have no idea because I’m caged in here, being kept from my woman and stripped of any weapons—except for my body itself, since I’m a government-trained war machine. But trapped in here, I’m useless.
When the vote happens, if I’m found guilty, Leeva will be protected; nothing will happen to her under the club law, and Ash and Bane will ensure that she isn’t forced to leave with Guerilla. But I can’t help the unease and foreboding swirling in my gut like acid.
One might attribute that to me worrying about dying, but that’s not it. I’m willing to face my fate because I don’t regret my choice.
So, something else is at the root of my unease, and that something else is Guerilla.
The way he was able to approach the compound and waltz right in, bypassing all the surveillance that should’ve alerted us to him. How the surveillance system glitched atjustthe perfect time of his entrance.
Thecrazedlook in his eye when he realized that taking Leeva wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t because he’s in love and obsessed with her, like me. I didn’t think it was even because his ambush on me was going to shit.
No, something else is at the root of this about why he wants her so badly.
Was it Leeva’s money? Did he think she was his ticket to the Wentzell fortune?
I had sent Len messages, explaining everything that happened. Because Guerilla slipping past not just our searchesor the Santoro tech team's, but also Len's tech guru—according to her, the best there is—isveryconcerning. With three highly skilled teams searching for Guerilla, and him not even pinging any of our radars? That compounds my concern expontentially.
She hasn’t responded to any of my messages, which has added to my restless, caged energy.
Keifer intercepts my pacing and holds a bottle of water in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the other. “Which one?”
I grab both, taking a long pull straight from the bottle of Jack, and wince because I’m not a Tennessee whiskey guy but a scotch man. Then I chase it with water.
“That’s great doctoring, Keif,” Ursula snaps. “Alcohol solves nothing.”
