To my relief, she doesn’t say anything else as she and River dish up a pack of cards and start a game of rummy.
One by one, my dad’s top guys disappear down the hall to head to Church.
“They’re meeting?” Wes asks.
“Yeah. Probably to vote on how to handle the latest threat. But like Rhett said, it’s likely we’ll be stuck here all weekend at least.”
“You made Dane and Quinn come for me. Why?”
I release a small breath, my eyes darting from his face to my hands and back again. “You know why.”
“Yeah.” He swallows, raking a hand through his dirty blond hair. “Does that mean I get one of those?” He flicks his head to Jax’s cut, and I can’t help the laughter that spills out of me.
“Do you want one of those?” I tease.
“I dunno, I reckon I could pull it off.”
“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?”
He shrugs. “I’m a fast learner.”
“Somehow, I don’t see it.”
Wes leans in closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath. “Maybe one day, I’ll surprise you.”
I wet my lips, desperate to kiss him. To let him take me away from all… this.
“Will your mom be okay? Won’t she wonder where you are?”
“She’s fine.” His jaw ticks. “Dad is in his guilt phase. It’ll last a few days at least. And don’t worry about me, I’ll cover my tracks.”
“I don’t want to cause you anymore troub—”
“Hey.” Wes brushes his hand over mine, the table obscuring them from sight. “I already told you, you’re worth it.”
“Senior year wasn’t supposed to go down like this.” I sigh, turning my hand with my palm up so we can lace our fingers together. No one is watching us, the women too busy organizing to notice. Quinn, River, and Jax are used to us by now, so they barely glance in our direction. And Pacman is distracted by something on his cell phone.
“I know things have been hard for you, but I don’t know… I’m kind of glad with how things turned out.” The corner of his mouth tips in an adorable smile.
“I totally see why they call you Pretty Boy.”
Wes chuckles, his smile morphing in a smug smirk. “Oh. Is that right?”
“Discreet, Sadie Ray, real discreet.” Jax snorts across the table, and I flip him off.
Everyone laughs then, and the six of us all play cards for the next hour, pretending it’s just another day.
By the time the men reappear, the atmosphere in the clubhouse is more relaxed. Aunt Dee and Rosita came prepared to make enough food to feed everyone, and most of the guys make a beeline for the buffet table at the far end of the room.
“Pigs,” Quinn murmurs.
“What was that, Renshaw?” Dane smirks as he grabs a stool and drags it over to where we’re sitting. Rhett is still hovering with my dad, the two of them in hushed conversation.
“So, what happened?” I ask casually.
“Nice try, Sadie, girl. But you know the rules. What happens in Church—”
I grab my bottle cap and flick it at his face. Dane ducks just in time for it to sail past him. “That wasn’t very nice,” he grumbles.
“I’m not feeling in a very nice mood.”
The air around us thickens as everyone watches our interaction.
“Don’t be a brat, Sadie Ray.” His voice is a low warning. “It never ends well for you.” The faintest of smiles tugs at the corner of his mouth, and heat splashes inside me.
How does he manage to make everything sound so sexual?
Wes chuckles quietly beside me as if he knows exactly where my thoughts are at. But then Dad appears, looming over us.
“Son,” he says to Wes. “How is your mom doing?”
My brows knit at the softness in his voice.
“She’s okay, thank you.”
Dad’s eyes slide to mine in question. “I guess we have you to thank for him being here.”
“He’s in this, Daddy, whether you like it or not.” I lift my chin in defiance, aware that nearly everyone is watching us now.
“Tread carefully, Sadie Ray. He might be your friend, but he’s still Grant Noble’s kid, and that man has been a thorn in the club’s side for longer than I care to remember.” His words sound menacing, but I catch the glimmer of humor in his eyes.
“If it’s any consolation, sir, I hate my father probably more than the club does.”
Dad gives Wes a curt nod, fighting a smile as he tries to maintain his tough guy attitude. “You should all eat something. It’s going to be a long couple of days.” He stomps off toward Micky and my aunt. Rhett doesn’t join us, grabbing a beer and perching on one of the stools instead.
It’s weird, being here with all of them. It doesn’t help that the three of them can’t take their eyes off me.
So much for warning me to tread carefully.
“I’m going to play pool,” I announce to no one in particular.
They don’t follow, and I’m grateful. I need to catch my breath, to try to calm my racing pulse.
“Rack ’em up,” I challenge Pyro, one of the club’s older members. He’s a bit of a loose cannon. No old lady. No morals. And a heap of wicked-looking flame tats curling up his neck and around his head. Hence his nickname.
“Ah, hell, Sadie Ray. You know I don’t like to beat your ass at pool.”
“Big words, Pyro. But I’m feeling lucky.”
Rhett’s eyes drill into me as Pyro racks the balls. “Ladies first,” he drawls.
There’s nothing sexual about the way he looks at me. Pyro isn’t like that. He’s more interested in blood and violence—so much so that my dad keeps a tight leash on him. Most of the time.
We play for a few minutes, and it’s pretty even. He sinks a ball, I sink two. He sinks two on his next shot, while I miss. But then the tide changes and I’m winning.
“Wily little thing, aren’t ya?” he hisses.
“Don’t be such a sore loser.” I wink across the table as I sink another ball.
“Motherfucker,” he grumbles, cracking his cue down on the edge of the table.
“Pyro, rein it the fuck in,” Uncle Micky barks.
I snort, and his eyes flare.
I have the game in the bag, lining up my shot onto the black ball. It glides in the corner pocket, and I whoop with victory.
“Sorry, Pyro, better luck next time.” I chuckle, just as someone snickers, “Got your ass handed to you by a girl.”
I walk away, but the sound of smashing glass makes me whip around. Pyro has overturned a table of drinks, spraying glass and liquid everywhere. Someone screams as he grabs a bottle and launches it across the room, right in my direction. It misses me by a mile, but Dad and Micky are already storming toward him.
“Fucking hell,” someone grunts as we all watch them manhandle him toward the door.
“Go cool off, now.”
“Sorry, Sadie Ray,” Pyro mutters, skulking out of the clubhouse.
Dad’s eyes fix on mine, flaring with confusion. “Something I should know?”
It’s only then I feel them behind me. Rhett, Dane, and Wes flank me like sentinels, and I glance up at Rhett, frowning.