making bets?” I asked, astonished. “On what?”
Jazz barked a laugh. A flush rose in his cheeks, and I could feel mine heating as well.
“On when you’d get your head out of your ass,” Raven said. “Gunnar was really optimistic.”
Gunnar took a swig of his beer. “Sorry—after that night in Ballast, I thought it was a done deal.”
“I thought it was a done deal after Custom Ankhs,” Siren said.
“You’re all fools,” Raven declared. “Thanks for the beer money, though.”
“All right, all right, that’s enough,” Blade said with an indulgent smile. “I’m calling this meeting to order.”
Jazz took a seat at the island. Despite being on the receiving end of a serious ribbing, that old instinctive urge to deny didn’t rise in my gut. I grabbed a pilsner out of the fridge for Jazz, and a light beer for me, and took my seat at his side. Our feet knocked together, and under the island, Jazz rested his hand on my knee. The contact was comfortable, grounding.
“First of all, just so everyone’s updated: Heath’s all right,” Blade said. “He’s got a broken rib and a concussion, but he’s otherwise okay. Tough kid. Should be discharged later today.”
Nods and murmurs of understanding.
“Now, about what happened on the campus. We knew Crave was looking to attack Rebel and Logan—but then he went for you, Jazz.”
Jazz nodded. “In broad daylight, too.”
“Why?”
“He caught wind of his tail, and thought I was the cause,” Jazz said. “He’s not acting with any sort of plan. He’s running on raw anger. Makes him unpredictable.”
“I’ve had enough of his bullshit,” Gunnar sneered. “Club justice is long overdue.”
“Hear, hear,” Siren said.
“We’ve waited for the feds,” Priest said. “Given them ample time to deal with this. And now he’s actively threatening our club—again.”
“Rebel?” Blade asked. “What do you think?”
Rebel drummed his fingers against the neck of his beer bottle. “I’ve been trying for years to get Crave behind bars. The feds aren’t going to find any valuable information by tracking him that they don’t already have. He’s lost it. My guy on the inside knows that, too—and I’m pretty sure he agrees with me when I say club justice might be the only justice Crave gets.”
“Plus, he almost killed Jazz,” Coop noted.
The memory—too recent for comfort—made me wince. “Yeah, my vote’s for club justice as well.”
“Raven,” Blade said. “You’ve got your program running?”
Raven nodded. “I’ve plugged in the number he gave Jazz in order to track it. It won’t get a hit until he actually uses the phone, but once he does, we’ll know where he is.”
“Good,” Blade said. “As soon as we do, it’s all-hands. We’re taking this bastard out.”
Cheers of approval rang around the table as we all raised our drinks in a toast.
“Glad we’re all in agreement,” Blade said with a determined set to his jaw. “All right, next order of business—”
“Wait,” Jazz said. “I’ve got a proposal.”
“Go ahead,” Blade said.
“Heath saved my life,” Jazz said. “Crave had a gun to my head—and he wasn’t bluffing, I could see it in his eyes. And Heath just full-on tackled him off me. If he hadn’t done that, well.” His expression darkened. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“That’s twice he’s gone into the line of fire for the club,” I said. “And he’s just a prospect.”
“Right,” Jazz said. “So I want to propose we patch him in as a full member.”
“Seconded,” I put in. “What else can he do to prove himself that he hasn’t already done?”
“Thirded,” Logan said. His brow was deeply furrowed. Was he remembering the same thing I was—how he’d patched up Heath on the floor of Ankhor Works when he’d only just shown up in Elkin Lake?
Priest waved a hand before any more voices could chime in. “Anyone opposed?”
No one raised any objections. Blade nodded. “All right. Once the kid’s out of the hospital, we’ll patch him in.” He glanced at Jazz. “You did good training him, too.”
Jazz nodded in thanks.
“Agreed,” Priest said. “He’s come out of his shell a lot since you started working with him.”
“He just needed to build his confidence a little,” Jazz said gruffly.
“Well, I have a feeling that your guidance and hard work gave him the confidence to go after Crave like he did,” Blade said. “He’s ready to be a patched-in member, and you’re partially to thank for that. Good work, Jazz.”
I nodded my agreement as pride flooded me. Jazz ducked his chin down to hide his smile as his fingers drummed on my knee, and then squeezed gently: