“So, what happened to you then?” Mac asks, looking me over like there might be something wrong with me.
I frown at him. “Nothing.”
A few quiet, confused glances are exchanged around the table.
“Why do you need the doctor then?” Boot asks, rolling his eyes as he lifts his cigarette to his mouth.
I sigh as my eyes track the movement, and he inhales. “Condom broke,” I say, lustfully watching the smoke spill from his lips.
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Moved on from the professor? And wait.” He leans forward with a creased brow. “Wouldn’tshebe going to the doctor if the condom broke?”
I stare at him, trying hard not to reach for my gun and point it at him. “Don’t you even fuckingthinkabout me moving on from my doc,” I snarl. “And if you don’t know how two men fuck, bend over and I’ll shove my gun up there.”
“Alright,” Kurt cuts in, lifting a hand to stop us.
But as his gaze lands on me… I bristle.
“How much have you shared with this professor?” he asks, looking me right in the eye.
I lean forward, holding his gaze with every ounce of fire I feel building in my chest. “It’s not him.”
Kurt's jaw tics, and he shakes his head. “He’s been around too much.”
“I said—” My hands slam against the table as I rise to my feet. The sound cracks through the room, and I bend over the table to get in his face. “It’s not fucking him. Leave him out of this.”
A firm hand clamps down on my shoulder, and Trip pulls me back down to my seat.
“Look,” Trip says in that strange, unsettling, calm way he has despite his ability to murder and threaten at the blink of an eye, “we’re all on edge, and need to question every angle. We just want to make sure, with absolute certainty, it’s not him… even if he might have accidentally shared something with someone?—”
I slap his hand off me. “He doesn’t know about the guns. He doesn’t know about the Sons moving in, and he doesn’t even know the auctions are not performing as they should. I haven’t told him a fucking thing.It’s.Not. Him.”
The table is quiet for a moment before Cory nods. “Alright. I believe you.”
But I can tell the table is split. And that pisses me the fuck off.
I pull in a breath and rub a hand over my face, trying to shove my frustration down and steer us back to what matters. “Rat aside… guns aren’t the answer moving forward.”
Kurt exhales hard, and around the table, I can feel the divide once again as everyone seems unsure which side to lean towards.
“Alder,” Dom says, levelling me with a look that’s half conviction, half caution. “I like your plan. I do. But it’s big. And we need somethingnow.”
“Didn’t think you were scared of a little girth, Dom,” I say, clenching my fists and trying not to reach for the pack of smokes on the table.
He sighs and gives me a slight shake of his head. “The Sons are going to move in faster than we can get cross-border auctions in place.”
“Not with that attitude,” I bite back.
“Enough,” Kurt barks.
I glance around the table, and I can read it on everyone’s faces. Some of my brothers are ready to bet on what we’ve started, to expand our auctions so we can stay in our game.Others are worried and are thinking about the next week and not the next year.
Fear is a hard thing to argue with when it’s got its foot on your chest.
“Frank wants to meet this weekend,” I add. “He thinks he can start mapping out how we move forward with them.”
Kurt leans forward, arms crossed on the table. “Fine,” he says. “We’ll meet and nod along. But only to buy time.” His gaze sweeps the table. “We hold the Sons off while we dig. We meet with the gun suppliers and see if there’s even an in before the Sons get their claws in. And we find the fucking rat. Once we’ve got all the cards on the table, then, and only then, we vote. Guns or no guns.”
I nod, biting my tongue.Diplomacy is a hard fucking pill to swallow. But I get it. We can’t move without knowing everything, and we can’t win a war if we don’t know where the bullets are coming from.
