to the clubhouse.”
Ama tipped her head to the side. “Why? The shop doesn’t close for another four hours.”
“I have to get to church.”
Though Saint’s and Keys’ eyes widened, they didn’t say a word—they knew not to. Ama, who also knew not to but did any way, inquired, “But why?”
“What happened on the run?” I asked the others.
“Nothing. It was pretty peaceful for a nine-hour trip,” Saint replied. “Lucifer was—”
“The Knights’ Prez came with?” I blurted out, at the same time Ama squealed, “Granddad’s here?”
Even as my lips twitched at her excitement, my brain was working overtime trying to figure out what was wrong. Still, the best way to know what was going down was to haul ass, so I inquired, “Look, do you mind closing up, Ama?”
“Of course not, but I don’t know how to work the alarm.”
“I can show you how to switch that on now.”
She shuffled out of the booth and followed me to the alarm system. I showed her how to activate it, then when she was there, murmured, “Do me another favor?”
Her eyes were big and bright as she stared up at me. “Of course.”
“Hang out here for a while. Until after closing, maybe. Until I text.”
Her brow puckered. “Why? I want to see Granddad.”
“I know, but I have a weird feeling.” Sheepishly, I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s my first day of being allowed to protect you without having to sneak around it, let me get away with it this once?”
Though she narrowed her eyes at me, she nodded. “Okay. But text when you can. I haven’t seen him in ages.”
Then, she stunned the hell out of me by leaning up onto tiptoes and pressing a kiss to my mouth. One that was impossible to translate as friendly.
I let her get away with it because I didn’t have time not to, and when she’d finished, her eyes were hazy with need and she looked so fuckable right then, I couldn’t get mad. Instead, I tapped her on the ass and warned her, “Behave.”
She pouted but nodded, and then retreated to the booth where Saint and Keys were, undoubtedly, still reeling from that very public PDA.
I didn’t look back though, just headed out into the still hot sun, leaving her to deal with the fallout—one that was of her own making as she couldn’t have outed us much more blatantly.
Taking a quick glance around, I noticed that everything was copacetic, and the street was relatively tidy, pretty, and neat. Our presence prompted that, because any taggers knew we’d rip their nails off if they made a mess. See, we had an image problem. We liked to keep things friendly with the town council, keep shit clean and well managed around our perimeter, and they usually left us alone.
If taggers started showing up, even though they had nothing to do with us, we’d get the blame.
Politics sucked, but they were a part of our life too, and they were the part of the MC I usually dealt with.
Five minutes later, I was on the road back to the compound in Rutherford. It wasn’t a long journey, but I cut the time down by a good fifteen minutes just because I ignored speed limits. Wolfe didn’t tell a person to haul ass without meaning it, so I did as bid.
The gates were open. Weird, but when they closed behind me, I got it. Further proof that Wolfe needed me in church as soon as possible.
I didn’t even take the time to park my cruiser where it usually went, didn’t even store my shit. Just began unbuckling my helmet as I hurried over to the clubhouse, then descended into the basement without even greeting any of my brothers who were hanging out around the bar.
The clubhouse was sectioned off smartly. One part for families and kids, another for brothers and hos, then there was even an administrative area. The top floor was for bedrooms, but the basement? That was where the darker side of our lives came out to play.
Down here, we had an area we called The Pit. It had earned that name because the floors were sloped so that blood drained off from whichever sap had crossed us. The Pit was accessed by a secret door that you could only get to from the room where we held church.
The Rebels was one of the largest brotherhoods in the South. We had lifers, hardcore brothers who worked solely for the club, then we