She wants to play games, I was the king of fucking games. They didn’t call me Maverick for no reason.
I followed Reaper out of the compound and into the streets of Penrith. I had no idea where we were going but I trusted my Prez. We all did. I knew if I had just talked to him, he would understand the predicament I was in.
After all, he kept my family a secret for years for me. He helped me to rid all traces of them from my life so they could live in peace.
Reaper pulled into the parking lot of one of the offshoot diners we held ownership over with the Ironborne, much like The Pit. My hackles rose when I spotted the car with Mannix’s number plate parked over by the doors.
Fuck did Prez know about Tavi? A strong sensation shot through me that I needed to protect her. I’d lay hands if it came to her and Van, and I knew that already. Fuck. I was so far gone for her.
Getting off the bike and securing my helmet in my saddle bag, I looked over at Reaper, who held a firm grimace on his face.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s just a chat, Mav. I need you in on this. Chaos is, although he’s throwing up a lot of interferences. I need you to trust me…can you do that?”
Reaper never pleaded with us. He ruled, and we trusted his judgment. Call it whatever you wanted to, but I already had my issues with the Ironborne, and this was too close for comfort.
“I do trust you.”
Reaper nodded and led me inside the establishment. The sounds of the diner felt like home, almost like our own Crossbones Diner, and calmed my already fraught nerves. Mannix was sitting at a booth, on his own. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him on his own before.
We slid into the opposite side of the booth, our backs to the counter. Mannix sipped at his coffee, as if this was an everyday occurrence. My heart was in my fucking throat with the way he was looking at me, almost like he knew I had his sister.
“Gentlemen,” he said, finally shooting his eyes over to Reaper. “You brought another one.”
“This is my VP, Maverick. He needs to be on board with the plan.”
“Plan?”
“Mav…”
“You trusting Ironborne scum now?”
I looked from Reaper to Mannix, who, infuriatingly, wasn’t pissed off with my insult. He looked almost amused.
“Listen to what he has to say, Mav.”
I sat back in the booth, my heart rate thundering, blood rushing through my ears with how angry I was. This fucker let his sister get beat. He just sat around and let it happen, and now I had to trust he was in on a plan with the club after everything his old man did to the club? The war that started and meant my own family had to be put into protective custody ultimately, so that I couldn’t watch my family grow up.
The Ironborne did that.
“I’m not Thomas,” he started, finishing his coffee and pushing it to the side. “I won’t ever start a war with you. I want to work together. We don’t need to fight over territory, we can be adults about it, but there are still many in my father’s empire that believe his way was law. It’s taking longer than anticipated to get the upper hand.”
“And why does that concern us?” I asked.
“I want to be transparent with you. I have loyal men, who have served me since I was in high school, and who will lay down their lives for the cause. I, too, would do that. I don’t want to fight itanymore. The Ironborne can co-exist with the Sons, we just need more businesses together, on already existing mutual territory.”
“Like?”
“Like, the Salvage Yard and possibly a joint Crossbones.”
“Seriously?” I spat, looking at Reaper. “You’re buying this bullshit.”
“You convince him,” Reaper said, pushing out of the booth, and moving to sit at the opposite end of the diner. Fucker. Turning back to Mannix, I saw a curious glint in his eye, before he relaxed back into his seat.
“Well? Convince me.”
I knew I was being a jackass, but I couldn’t help it. He was part of the problem. The enemy. The fucking devil’s spawn.
