Blowing out the tires wasn’t one of my best decisions. I’m a skilled shooter. No one was ever in any danger, but I didn’t think it through all the way. All I saw was the red haze of jealousy and acted.
That’s why my pride hasn’t let me call Lyla.
It’s been four days since I’ve seen her, spoken to her, tasted her…
I should stop being a pussy and just reach out to her. But if she doesn’t answer, if she avoids my calls and texts like Laurel did for weeks, I might set the world on fire.
So, while my brothers think I’ve got my shit together and am staying away from Lyla to keep the peace, I’m a jumbled-up mess on the inside.
“Where the hell is RJ? We’re in his damn garage!” Remy complains Thursday night, snapping me out of my musings.
All the rest of us are seated around the long, wooden table, waiting to get our meeting started.
My brothers and Greer are slightly less pissed at me today. The OG Savage Kings sent them new bikes from the Harley dealership in Myrtle Beach to replace their damaged ones after they heard about what happened. It was a nice surprise for me since I didn’t have to dip into my savings, but really, I think the mother chapter was just trying to keep the peace to avoid a war. Remy, though, wasn’t thrilled that they are keeping such a close eye on our chapter.
“Does RJ know it’s time, or did he lose his phone again?” Colt asks with a smirk.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot where he left the damn thing,” Remy mutters.
“At least he’s never lost his cut,” Hugo, the only non-relative at the table, points out, taking a shot at Colt.
“Lesson learned,” he grumbles. “Can’t we just start without RJ, and you can fill him in later?” Colt asks. No doubt he’s in a hurry to get home to Josie.
After the two times with Lyla, I’m starting to remember what it’s like to want to be with someone every second of the day. I hated leaving her Sunday in the parking lot, but if I had stayed, there would’ve been holes in more than that fucker’s bike tires.
Blowing out his tires could have even instigated shit between the Devil Hounds and Savage Kings. I know that now. He was being a dick, and I hated that he was going to be with Lyla while I’m not technically allowed to see her. I guess I just wanted to hurt him a little without shedding any blood.
I’m not sure how long I had zoned out again before RJ finally bursts through the church door.
“There’s…problem. Have to…go!”
He’s out of breath and making less sense than normal.
“What’s wrong?” Remy asks, automatically getting to his feet like the rest of us. “Another bomb?”
RJ shakes his head. “No. Jordan.”
“What about Jordan?” Colt asks since that’s his girlfriend’s eighteen-year-old son.
Our brother’s chest moves up and down rapidly as we gather around him. That’s when I realize he’s not panting from exertion but from panic. “They have him. Want to talk to us.”
“Who has him?” I ask as I grab RJ by the shoulders and guide him down to the closest chair.
“Spit it out already!” Remy shouts.
“Give him a second,” I snap at him before turning back to RJ. “Take a deep breath, bro. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Stay calm. It’s going to be okay.”
“He knows how to breathe!” Remy grumbles.
“He’s upset, so how about you ease up,” Colt suggests. “Trust me, I’m just as anxious as you are to hear what he has to say since it involves my stepson.”
“You’re not married to Josie yet,” Remy argues.
“Close enough! Now, please, RJ, what’s going on with Jordan?”
Our brother’s chest is rising and falling a little slower when he tells us, “The Devil Hounds have him.”
Oh, fuck me.
“Well, that’s just fucking great,” Hugo says as he goes and slumps back down in his chair. “I thought you all told the mother chapter that the Hounds wouldn’t be a problem for the Kings!”
“We didn’t think they would be,” Remy huffs as he retakes his own seat at the head of the table while glaring at me. He runs his fingers through his chin-length, dirty-blond hair to get it out of his face. “Bear, what did you do?”
“Why do you think this is my fault?” I ask with my best poker face.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you slept with his daughter and took her virginity on your ex-wife’s wedding day?”
“It doesn’t matter what set this off,” Colt remarks. “All we can do is arm up and go to Clayton to get Jordan back!”
“And walk right into what could be Perry’s trap to kill us all?” Remy asks him.
“What other option do we have? Wait around for every other Savage King on the East Coast to get here for backup?” Colt asks. “No. We’re not waiting. I’m going tonight, even if I have to go alone.”
“My own brothers are going to get me killed one of these days,” Remy mutters to himself as he fists his hair and gives it a final tug before slapping both of his palms down on the table. “Fine. Get packing. We leave in thirty.”
“Why can’t we go now? We’re all here,” Colt points out.
“My guns and ammo aren’t! And I’ll be damned if I go over there with one clip. I want to see Avery too.”
Great. That’s reassuring. Remy’s going to say goodbye to his woman in case we all die. And if we do, it’s all my fault.
“If it becomes a shootout, we’re fucked,” Hugo says exactly what I was thinking. “You need to call the Fury brothers and tell them what’s going on. The Devil Hounds don’t have as many chapters as we do, but they’ve got enough around the country to cause problems for our other chapters.”
“Yeah, I’ll go make the call and stock up at home,” Remy says. “The rest of you do the same. Be at Greer’s in thirty. Not a minute later, RJ!”
“Yeah, okay,” my youngest older brother replies with a nod before he gets to his feet. “I’m ready. Sorry about before. I won’t lose my shit again.”
“Good. Because we don’t have time to hold your hand,” Colt tells him before we all head out into who the fuck knows what.
I’m locked and loaded when we get off our bikes to walk into what could possibly be a suicide mission.
But it’s not like we can just let that asshole keep our prospect, a kid that’s become like a son to not just Colt but RJ too since he’s the boy’s sponsor, all because he’s pissed at me.
The Devil Hounds MC has a huge bar and clubhouse with pool tables, a stage for a live band, hell, even a restaurant. It’s probably the most popular hangout in the county. Not to mention that half the male population of the town are members.
There are no less than thirty bikes parked out front in a single long line.
That’s why they wanted this chitchat here, on their home turf, where they have the clear advantage over our measly five-member club. Well, six, counting Greer, who is still technically a prospect.
“They better not have laid a finger on him,” Colt mutters under his breath as we all square our shoulders and head inside like we’re not scared shitless of being gunned down on sight in our Savage Kings cuts.