Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
But this business needs settling first.
The club comes before comfort. Always has.
I plant my feet wider, lock my knees to keep from swaying. The floor seems to tilt beneath me, but I refuse to show weakness.
Not here. Not now. "So. Are we good?"
Brick still doesn't look satisfied. His eyes narrow to winter slits, the kind of cold that kills men who underestimate it. The money I've thrown down—my whole future—isn't enough. I can see it in the way his jaw works, grinding thoughts between his teeth like he's processing something bitter and unpalatable.
"There's more," I say, the words scraping out of me like they're made of barbed wire and desperation. "The Ashbys owe me now."
I feel Diesel shift his weight behind me, leather creaking as his massive frame adjusts. This is new information to him too. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head, calculating what this means for the club.
"Cash and Wyatt know. They know this isn’t over. I will…” I sigh. Tired. Hating that I have to make this promise. “I will give up my right to vengeance for the sake of the Club. I will smooth it all over. They’re old money. They’re used to this kind of bargaining. It’s a second language to them. It’s a game, ya know? If I want in, they’ll play."
Brick's expression doesn't change, but I see the thinking going on behind his eyes—cold, precise arithmetic of power and leverage.
His face might be stone, but his mind is always counting.
"And Marcus White Jr.—the senator's boy—" I add. "He's tranquilized but breathing. He’s obviously a psychopath. But his father has a name to protect. You know how boys like that are. In the shadow they rise, in the shadow they fall. Nothin’s gonna happen. I’m gonna make sure of it."
The room pulses with my heartbeat, or maybe it's just the blood rushing in my ears. The fluorescent light above us flickers once, casting momentary shadows across Brick's weathered face.
"Hell,” I say, ready to sweeten the deal. “Maybe it’s a blessin’ that those Ashby boys lost their fuckin minds? That I live rent free in their heads? I mean, there’s gotta be at least a dozen back-door gun corridors through Ashby land, right?" I've got their full attention now. Kidnapping me isn’t enough to put it all on the line. Torturing my woman, not even close.
But securing a new route? One that’s not on any map? Yeah. That’s somethin’ they can get behind. That’s worth certain high-risk situations.
I'm not sure I mean it. Even less sure I could actually deliver it.
But I'll say anything right now to keep Savannah here with me, to build a fortress around her that not even Ashby money can break through.
Brick drums his fingertips against the desk, a slow rhythm that matches the throb in my broken ribs. His eyes never leave mine, searching for weakness, for lies, for the faintest trace of bullshit.
Looking at him, meeting his gaze, takes more strength than I have right now. But he cannot sense weakness or it's over. So I hold as the seconds tick off, one by one, until we’re way up in the double digits.
"Level-Two lock down until dawn," he finally says, each word a stone dropped into still water, creating ripples that will change everything. "Havoc, post two extra riflemen at the gate. Anyone approaches, they get one warning shot. Roach, I want our surveillance feeds scrubbed clean—nothing has come in, nothing's gone out in the last seventy-two hours. Ledger—"
Ledger's pen stops its nervous tapping against his notepad.
"Fine him a thousand for seventy-two hours of radio silence." Brick's eyes narrow as they slide up to meet mine. "And for dragging club resources into a personal war." His voice is flat, emotionless, but I can practically hear his thoughts.
He knows exactly what he's taking from me.
A thousand dollars I don't have anymore, not after emptying my pockets on his desk.
Ledger starts scribbling on a piece of paper, then comes at me with a knife. I open my palm, he cuts it, then I place my opposite thumb in the pool of blood and press it to the IOU. "Done," I say. Looking Brick in the eyes as he scoops up my twenty grand. "Now. Are we good?"
Brick holds my gaze as he hands my stash over to Ledger. "You get one night. That's it. I hope she's worth it, Kane." Then he adds, "Dawn church," as he pushes back from his desk. "Full table vote on the Ashby girl's status. Whether she stays or goes. Whether she's yours to protect or just another problem we need to bury."
I finally breathe again, feeling my lungs fill up after having forgotten how to breath.
One night.
It's better than nothing.
CHAPTER 7
I sink deeper into this broken-down couch like it's trying to claim me. The springs beneath me groan with every tiny shift of my weight—a confession of age and overuse. This isn't the kind of furniture that gets replaced when it wears out. It's the kind that wears in, collecting stories in its stains.