A chorus of ‘fuck’ goes around the table.
“They need us to ride down?” Titch asks.
Rav shakes his head. “Howler’s handling it, but it looks like this shit is going to come to war with the gangs in the city. We’re going to have to take action, show these fuckers no one messes with our club.”
I agree with that completely. One weak link in the chain and the whole organisation could unravel. We can’t afford to lose territory there. Manchester is our gateway to the northern territories and plays a huge part in our drug running operations.
“What does he need?” I demand, itchy tension slipping between my shoulders.
“Guns. I’ve spoken to Omen in Tennessee again. They’re sending seven cases. We have another problem, though. Omen is worried there’s a fox in the hen house.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. That’s bad for the club on the whole. A rat is something no club wants. It’s a brand of treachery that ends only one way—dead. How painful that end is depends on the club. Fury would make it so they prayed for death. “Cop?”
He shakes his head. “He thinks someone is telling a rival club about runs they’re doing. Twice now they’ve been intercepted while trying to move product.”
This is seriously bad. This shit only works if there’s trust between brothers. The moment suspicion is added to the mix it can be the downfall of a club.
“Can he handle it in house?” Fury asks, speaking for the first time. His voice is like gravel, hoarse, rusty-sounding.
“Probably, but ain’t willing to risk it. Whizz is going out there at the end of the week. He’s going to stay until they root this fucking cunt out.”
Losing Whizz will be a hell of a blow to us, but I understand why he’d send him. The doc has a lot in common with the Tennessee boys. He’s former military and he’s also the only one of us with dual citizenship. His mum was American, his father a Brit. He’s lived here most of his life, but I know he has family over there. He won’t have to fuck about with Visas and whatever else. He’s the obvious person to go.
“Can we afford to lose Whizz?” Levi says what the rest of us are thinking.
“Can we afford not to weed out a rat?” Nox counters. “If this cunt is talking to another club and spilling secrets, what’s to stop him from going to the cops, the Feds, whoever else and giving up the entire organisation?”
It’s a good point. Disloyal bastards usually remain disloyal to the bitter end. The cops getting involved is dangerous as fuck. The Feds already tried to build a RICO case against the US chapters of the Sons in the early 2000s, but they couldn’t pin anything on us. We need to keep it that way. As the mother chapter of the entire club, we have a responsibility to keep all our brothers safe from this shit. Whizz will find out what’s going on and head home. Could Omen handle it? Probably, but I understand Rav’s caution too. He’s just got himself into a good life with Sasha and Lily-May. He’s not looking to undo that.
Losing Whizz is a hell of a blow though. We just have to hope no one gets hurt in the meantime, though we do have other contacts at the local hospital we can use.
Rav looks like he’s about to end the meeting, so I jump in before he can.
“I’m claiming Briella as my old lady.”
I slouch back in the chair and let that news settle around my brothers.
“This is what you want?” Nox asks, eyeing me carefully. The brother makes a good right-hand to Ravage. He tends to be a lot more level-headed than our President. I’ve only ever seen him lose his shit over one thing—his old lady, Lucy.
“Yeah, brother.”
Rav sighs. “She wants your ugly mug?”
I smile. “Haven’t asked her.”
“Don’t know much about women, but I figure that might be the first step,” Titch supplies with a smirk.
“I want her. That ain’t changing. She’s mine.”
“Levi, you’ve been fucking quiet throughout all this shit. You want to wade in?” Rav says, clasping his hands together on the tabletop.
Levi raises his head and lets out a long breath. “He takes care of my sister and there won’t be any problems between us. The club has already hurt her. I won’t let that happen again.”
Rav’s eyes turn lethal. We all know he’s talking about Sin, the rapist bastard who hurt two of our women. That thought twists a blade in all our guts. Knowing he died painfully at the hands of our club is our only redemption.
“Okay. We’ll vote on it. Those in favour of Briella becoming Daimon’s old lady.”
I can’t stop the grin that plays on my face as one by one my brothers all vote for Briella to be mine. I just have to tell her now.
22
Briella
I’m sitting on the sofa scoffing a pint of ice cream when there’s a knock on the door. Layla’s at work—she’s doing nights this week at the care home. I haven’t been alone a single evening, though. Every night like clockwork, Daimon turns up at my door, my white knight, determined to protect me from my nightmares.
I’m not sure that I hate the fact, either. I’m becoming comfortable around him, needing his presence like I need my next breath. He’s becoming a vital part of my everyday life and while that should scare me, it doesn’t. I love having him around. I love him.
I wasn’t sure if what I was feeling before was love, but I’m starting to concede it is. I feel on edge when he’s not around and my heart gallops when he’s near. He makes my body feel warm and needy when we cuddle together on the sofa, and I almost detonate when we kiss. I want to do more with him, but he’s the one taking things slowly. It’s frustrating.
Obviously, I don’t move fast enough because a fist hammers on the door again. I get to my feet, slipping the tub on the coffee table, and move in my sock-covered feet to the door.
I roll to my toes and peer through the peep hole. It is Daimon. That makes my heart skip a beat. It’s weird how much I miss him when he’s not around. I never felt this way about anyone before, and while I don’t have a lot of experience in the man department, I have dated a few boys before. None have come close to Daimon. He’s so intense, so protective.
I pull the door open and I’m greeted by his handsome face. He’s so gorgeous, with that strong line, a layer of scruff that has moved past a five o’clock shadow.
“Hi,” I say on a breath, my voice sounding husky.
He steps into the flat and kicks the door shut behind him. Then he’s on me, attacking my mouth. His big, strong hands cup my cheeks as he plunders my mouth, taking from me everything and giving me more back.
I melt into his touch, needing him as desperately, craving him. He will usually kiss me when he arrives, but this is something else. His movements are frenzied, frantic and determined. He wants to have his fill of me, and I feel like he could devour me whole.
My knees tremble as he slips his tongue into my mouth, fighting for control with mine. Then he hoists me up his body. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his waist as his hand moves to the back of my neck, the other slipping around my back. My pussy throbs as he moves us to the sofa and sits, so I’m straddling his legs. I feel like my skin is on fire with every touch he gives me.