“You’re awfully interested in my clothing choices,” I tease him back. “Am I going somewhere today that I don’t know about?”
“Actually, you are,” he murmurs. “Lore has a surprise planned. It’s fifty degrees out, and while that’s not terrible, it isn’t fun on a motorcycle. I have leathers for you.”
“And you just happen to have these stashed somewhere like Mary Poppins?” I giggle.
“I can fit a lot of shit on my bike,” he snorts. “However, Lore told me last night about his plan, and I ordered everything in your size online then.”
Handing me a pair of tight, black leggings, he watches as I change into them. He can’t help but bite his full lips as I pull them over my ass, and I have to admit they’re comfortable.
“Those are armored in case you wreck,” he explains. “Lore won’t allow that to happen, but shit happens.”
I nod because he’s right, and change into the long sleeve top he hands me next. It feels nice against my skin, and isn’t too tight. It also doesn’t ride up once I tuck the hem into my pants.
“This is the leather jacket you’ll eventually get your patch on,” Ransom says softly. “It’s got armor in the elbows, shoulders, and back to protect your body as well. I know you want to learn to ride, and proper gear is really important to me. It’s why I got so pissed off at the funeral. Something inside of me needs to keep you safe, even when you’re not with me.
“I also got you new boots. They’ll have better protection and grip on the pavement. Now, for the next part. Weapons.”
“Plural?” I ask. “Where the hell am I going?”
“Ryder is a friend of the club,” Ransom chuckles. “It’s not him I’m worried about. There are low lives that troll the roads looking for some fun, and I don’t want you to have any problemswhile you’re riding with Lore. You’re going alone with him, which means I’m loading you up for war, baby.”
I really hope he never finds out about what happened to me with Lore’s pack while I was driving to Minneapolis, because it’ll definitely cause an issue.
“Alright. Load me up for bear,” I sigh.
“The bears aren’t the problem,” he grumbles. “It’s the men of the world. Storm is bougie as fuck and wants to get you custom holsters. He found someone in town who makes them, but they need you to go in. Until that happens, I found a couple of options that’ll work for now. I also bought you another gun that’ll fit your smaller hands. However, I think you and Arsenal need to talk about your weapon needs.”
“It’s very odd to have any need for a gun,” I say. “How… I mean, are we telling the club about Lore?”
“He can’t remain dead for much longer,” Ransom winces. “At least, not to the club. Wilder is going to remain acting president for now, while Lore becomes his enforcer. We were up until late talking while you slept.”
Ransom looks almost guilty while I fix the holster I decide on and slide the gun down the back of my pants. Don’t they make any holsters that are a little less bulky? I need to talk to the custom person when I see him to see if they can make that happen.
“I don’t care if you discuss things alone as long as I’m looped in later,” I explain. “Handle your shit, and then tell me what I need to know.”
“Okay,” he says, a look of relief passing over his face. “We’re rewriting rules on the fly, and that comes with some growing pains. We’re having the club over in a couple of weeks to discuss how to move forward, which means their opinions need to be voiced.”
“I don’t think the brownstone can hold all of them,” I say, feeling lightheaded as I fix my shirt.
“We’re going to rent a place through one of the mafia bosses for our meeting,” he explains. “A new sofa is also arriving today.”
Okay. Deep breaths, Marie. Fuck. I think this is why I need bite sized pieces of information when it comes to the club. They’re a little overwhelming on a good day. Minneapolis isn’t ready for them for longer than a quick visit.
“Alright,” Ransom murmurs, helping me into my jacket. “Your boots are downstairs. Lore is waiting and Wilder made you a smoothie.”
“Sneaky,” I murmur. “The four of you are scary when you band together.”
“Sugar,” he growls, smirking. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. We’re unhappy we’ll be away from you, which means we’ll need to keep ourselves busy.”
“Oh? Care to elaborate?” I ask, following him out of the room and downstairs.
“Not particularly.”
Of course not, because that would be too easy.
“Are you pouting, Princess?” Lore asks, dragging me into a hug as I step off the last stair in front of him.
He begins to walk me toward the kitchen where I hear Wilder and Storm talking, and I perk up, hoping they’ll tell me their plans while we’re gone. Or even better! Maybe, Lore will tell me where we’re going. I don’t know who Ryder is or why he’s important.
