“Come.” Valentina wraps an arm around Shelby’s shoulders. “Let’s get you a drink and I’ll show you around.”
“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Shelby peers at me over her shoulder once. Her lips wobble into a smile that doesn’t reassure me all that much. On their way to the kitchen, Valentina collects Trinity under her other arm. At least Shelby won’t be on her own.
“She’ll be fine here,” Priest says, his shrewd eyes studying me intently. “That was some nasty business in Virginia.”
At least he doesn’t waste time. Must’ve heard all about it. Whether Ice gave him the heads-up or someone else is hard to tell, and I don’t dare disrespect our national president by asking.
“It was.”
He curls an arm around my shoulders and steers me toward the club’s chapel. From the corner of my eye, I catch Jiggy giving me a farewell salute. God, I’d love to flip him off.
The mother charter’s chapel is a lot fancier than ours. Brand new, shiny furniture. Sparkling hardwood floors. Leather couch and chairs. Nice to see Priest putting all that money we kick up to good use. He heads straight for a small wet bar, pouring two glasses of whiskey neat.
Priest hands me one of the glasses and before I can even take a sip, he levels his stern gaze on me. “Dating someone in the public eye. Must be difficult.”
Somehow I don’t think he’s all that concerned about my dating problems. “I’m doing as much as I can to not bring unwanted attention to the organization.”
You know, if we just forget that whole magazine cover thing. For the thousandth time, I thank fuck they didn’t name my club.
His jaw shifts and his unrelenting stare doesn’t ease up. “You’ve never been a showy, braggart type, Rooster.”
“No,” I answer carefully, not sure where he’s going with that statement.
“Good. You have a lot of potential. Z made a good call giving you that VP patch.”
Why do I feel like a third-grader about to receive a report card?
“You’re smart enough to know the difference between causing a problem by throwing your weight around,” He leans in and taps my Lost Kings MC patch, “and quietly letting the world know there are consequences to fucking with what’s yours.”
I take that to mean he wouldn’t be upset if I publicly gutted Suggs. Good to know. “Yes, sir.”
“Ice speaks highly of you as well.” He takes a slow sip of his whiskey.
I don’t dare blink. Just keep holding his stare. “That’s good to hear. I feel like I imposed on him an awful lot while we were there.”
“You’re never a burden on your brothers, Rooster.” He holds his arms open wide. “That’s the whole point. We are our brother’s keeper.”
Ah, Priest’s favorite saying. I was wondering how long it would take him to bust that out. My radar’s pinging like crazy. He’s up to something. “I know.” I shrug. “Like you said, I prefer to help my brothers quietly.”
“How did you find the hospitality in Virginia?”
What the fuck’s he looking for? A status report about the clubhouse? The porn business? Ice’s FBI connections? All of that and more?
“Above and beyond. Ice’s FBI friend helped smooth over some rough patches when we needed it.”
“Good to hear Jackson’s earning his keep. He’s an expensive little pet.” For a brief second, Priest drops the kindly dad mask and the ruthless biker who’s been the national president as long as I can remember grins at me.
Trying to navigate through a conversation with Priest is draining as fuck. Every word out of his mouth can be taken several ways.
He sighs. “More porn, huh? That’s Ice’s big plan? Skin flicks will be our entire reputation.”
I mean, it’s not as if any outlaw motorcycle club will ever have a sterling rep, so I don’t get why he’s so bothered by the porn. “It’s profitable. Legal. Ice has a clever set-up. His girl seems smart and loyal.”
He raises an eyebrow, but one corner of his mouth twists, as if he’s disappointed in me.
“Not like that, Prez. I was only assisting with the technical side.” I nod toward the clubhouse. “Got all I can handle with my girl.”
“Yes, but what’s his relationship like with this ‘star’ who we’re putting so much money behind?”
Ah, that makes more sense.
“We didn’t really have time to sit around and chat about our hopes and dreams for the future, Prez.” I’m not trying to be disrespectful. More like, if I sound too eager to chat about brothers and their personal business, it doesn’t look good. Priest may be angling for me to act as his spy but he won’t respect me if I give up the dirt too easily. It’s a razor-thin edge I’m walking.
He cocks his head and stares, waiting for more information.
“Shelby hung out with her a little bit.”
“Really?” I get his disbelief. Old ladies aren’t usually fond of spending time with unattached women associated with the club.
“Yeah, they got along well. From everything I saw, she’s respectful to the old ladies. Doesn’t start drama.” Priest seems to want some sort of reassurance. “I don’t exactly know what their personal relationship is, but I got the impression they have history. Shelby kinda confirmed that. Ice was friends with her dad or something.”
A flash of recognition seems to cross his face. He nods slowly. “I think I know who you’re talking about now.”
Great, because I’d really love to stop squealing on my brothers now.
“Every club’s certainly free to earn how they want as long as it’s not bringing us all down. Like you said, it’s legal.” He shrugs. “Your operation in New York is still profitable as well, right?”
“It’s not my operation, Priest. But yes. Things are running smoothly and as expected.”
“And you trust this gal?”
“I don’t trust anyone but from what I saw, she’s extremely loyal to Ice and the club.” That’s the last thing I want to say about Ice and his personal life.
“Think you’ll have a night to spare to visit your brothers in Tennessee?”
Ah, there it is.
The quick switch in conversation doesn’t throw me as much as Priest probably wanted it to. He’s praised me, reminded me of my obligations to the club, pumped me for information—now here comes the real point of this conversation.
“Sure. Any reason in particular?”
“Our situation there is a bit rocky. The relationship with Black Venom MC has deteriorated a lot over the last couple of months.”
I wrack my brain trying to remember any details about the smaller southern MC. “We’ve run into them at events in Florida and never had any issues.”
“Yeah, well, the Bunnville president’s trying to make a name for himself. Stirring up trouble where there doesn’t need to be any.”
I’ve been in the northeast for so long, it takes me a second to picture the territory outlines. “They’re located near the Georgia border. Why are they even near Deadbranch?”
The corners of his mouth curl up, as if he’s pleased with my ability to grasp geography on the fly. “Expansion? Seeing how much they can get away with? Why does any MC encroach?”