Page 7 of Torrent’s Treasure

“Aww, did your wittle feelings get hurt?” Maverick ribbed.

“Brothers, get back on track,” Dragon ordered.

Torrent almost smiled at Dragon’s tone. So many personalities meant that sometimes their President spent time playing referee, and Dragon fucking hated that.

“Bravo, Cecilia’s injuries? Possible amnesia?” Torrent suggested.

His brother rubbed his chin and lips as he thought through the injuries. Bravo acted quickly when it was a medical emergency, but he considered all the options if it wasn’t a time-sensitive matter.

“How are you thinking?” Bravo asked.

“What if Cecilia was assaulted in her house? Calliope found her unconscious when she got home. She calls Sally for help, and maybe Cecilia doesn’t remember anything. Another option is we ignore the attack entirely. Maybe Cecilia has the flu, passes out, and Calliope finds her when she gets home,” Torrent explained.

“Awww, look at Torrent actually using full sentences and shit. It makes me so proud,” Mav bantered, holding his hand to his heart.

“Cut the shit, Mav. Time and a place. Sally indicated that Horse’s Ass had called his brother to say he was taking them to the cabin. How do we deal with that detail?” Dragon commanded.

“As close to the truth is the best lie, but I’m not sure how to sell this. We can hide her, but when the Chief gets back in town, he’ll come looking,” Maverick reasoned.

“But he won’t be back for a month, it sounds like. We’ll need to have an answer if one of the other policemen starts looking for Horse’s Ass. Let me think through the options,” Gunner, their Tech officer, noted.

Torrent was glad to see his friend had quit screwing around and was figuring out the strategy. Cecilia and Calliope needed protection. Torrent wasn’t sure why Old Man Wilson had chosen him to keep his daughters safe, but Torrent refused to allow bullies to hurt women or children. He would have helped if he found out. No matter how he kept turning the situation over in his head, he couldn’t come up with a way to explain why the girls were at the Grave Prowlers MC and Horace was nowhere to be found. Even without an explanation, the girls needed protection from the Chief and from any repercussions if anyone else came looking.

“Right, Torrent?” Dragon prompted.

“What?” Torrent asked.

“No matter what strategy we use to keep them safe, the club has to be protected,” Dragon said.

“Agreed,” Torrent grunted.

“To all of it?” Maverick asked, staring at Torrent as if he’d lost his mind.

“Uh, sure,” Torrent replied. He was happy to protect the girls from the Chief. Maybe he’d get to help the Chief join his brother.

His brothers were all staring at him. Torrent wasn’t sure what he’d missed.

“Not the way I thought this would go. I thought I might need to order you to do it, but I appreciate your willingness to take one for the club. Let’s get a minister here who won’t ask questions regarding her bruises. I’ll have Sally move them into Torrent’s room immediately,” Dragon announced.

“My room?” Torrent echoed. Had Dragon lost his mind? If they needed a room, there were plenty. Why his room?

“Yeah, because husbands and wives usually live in the same room,” Mav deadpanned.

“Husband?” Torrent questioned.

“I thought you were listening. You said sure. I know you didn’t get hit while we were gone. What’s your issue?” Dragon demanded.

“Maybe the thought of sliding between his wife’s thighs and having those same thighs for the rest of his life gave him a mini-stroke. I mean, one pussy for the rest of your life—ugh,” Mammoth scoffed, shuddering.

Mammoth was a huge brother who was constantly thinking that something that was wrong was a medical emergency and readily availed himself of the Whispers. Bravo called him a hypochondriac and Torrent would have to agree.

“Wife’s thighs?” Torrent repeated, shaking his head. Was he dreaming? Had he fallen asleep and this was his nightmare? If Torrent was going to marry anyone, Cecilia was his type. Thick thighs, plush booty, and tits that appeared to be soft and pillowy enough he could sleep on them, and even with the bruises, her face had been beautiful, but she’d been through a trauma and wouldn’t be in any shape to have him between those lush thighs.

“Would someone catch him up?” Dragon muttered, sighing loudly.

“Torrent, you man. Cecilia, woman. She called you for help. And we’re going to dispose of a body for her, and not just of anyone, a cop. Marriage ties her to us. Although she could still be compelled to testify, it explains her living in the clubhouse and why Calliope would call you when she found Cecilia on the floor passed out,” Maverick explained.

“Gunner, where was Cecilia working before she came home to take care of her sister?” Dragon asked.