Wirth (Dirty Aces MC #5) - Lane Hart Page 0,31
go round up Silas, Nash, and Devlin, who are playing a game of pool with Silas’s girl, Cora. Her red hair stands out even more than usual tonight. Holy shit! What if she has ties to the Irish?
No, that’s just my fucked-up head, trying to make shit up to take the blame off of Maeve.
Shaking those thoughts away, I tell the guys, “Malcolm’s calling a meeting.”
“Now?” Nash asks.
“Now.”
“It’s go time,” Silas says, laying his pool stick down and giving his woman a quick kiss. “Be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” she agrees.
As we start walking to the chapel, I tell them, “We shouldn’t leave Cora out here by herself.”
“The prospect is outside,” Devlin replies. “He’ll let us know if anyone rides up.”
“And we’re sure we can trust him?” I ask.
“He’s solid,” Nash says. “I talked to him and had Lucy run his background.” Leaning closer to whisper to me, he says, “She had already run backgrounds for the Knights. Everyone is clear.”
“Good,” I say, because that makes me feel a little bit better, which is ironic because if anyone is hiding shit, it’s me.
Chapter Thirteen
Maeve
Luckily, the Dirty Aces hangout isn’t some secret. It’s a pool hall that’s in the middle of Carolina Beach with a long row of bikes parked out front. I wave to Freddy, the former Knights’ prospect who is standing guard at the door, and then find a parking spot.
“Maeve? What are you doing here?” Freddy asks when I walk up to the door with Crystal’s car keys in my hand.
“I need to talk to Wirth.”
“Wirth?” he repeats, his brow creased in confusion. “Oh, one of the original Aces?”
“Yeah. Is he inside?” I ask.
“He is, but I think the guys all just went into the chapel for a meeting.”
Shit. Right this second, they’re probably talking about how and when they’re going to hit back the Irish.
“I really need to talk to him,” I say impatiently.
“You can go on inside. There’s another old lady in there hanging out.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say, even though I’m not sure if I’m going to sit around and wait for Wirth.
After only hanging around a few weeks, I already know that in the MC world not even old ladies are supposed to interrupt a meeting, much less a club girl who the guys occasionally fuck.
I pull open the door that jingles before I go through it and find a beautiful redhead sitting on one of the bar stools alone, playing on her cell phone.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi. Everyone still in the meeting?” I ask.
“Yeah, it just started,” she says. “Want to have a drink with me?”
“I really need to talk to Wirth.”
“Oh. Well, I haven’t been around here long, but I don’t think it would be wise to interrupt, not today.”
She’s probably right. So, I reluctantly decide to wait, climbing up on one of the barstools next to her.
“I’m Cora,” the woman says, offering me her hand.
“Maeve,” I say as we shake.
“Maeve,” Cora repeats. “That’s Irish right? Doesn’t it mean…intoxicating?”
“Ah, yeah. It is,” I say, glad that no one else is around to hear that information.
“Mine is too, but Cora just means heart or maiden, so lame.”
“So, you’re Irish too, a natural redhead?”
“Yeah. And I’ve been hearing that’s not a popular thing to be right now since it may have been the Irish that shot up the Knights’ bar. I told Silas I should probably stay home, but he’s so protective.”
“Sounds like he’s a good one.”
“He is,” she agrees with the dreamy smile of a woman in love.
Cora and I chit chat until the door to the meeting room finally opens.
I’m off my barstool in a heartbeat, hurrying over to look for Wirth.
“Maeve?” Hunt says in surprise when he comes out first. “What are you doing here? Worried about us so much you couldn’t stay away?” he asks as he wraps me in a tight bear hug.
“That’s right,” I agree. “How are you?” I ask, noticing the gauze wrapped around his head and covering his ear.
“On the fucking mend,” he says.
Right before he lets me go, I spot Wirth over his shoulder. He comes to a complete stop and stares at us.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” I say to Hunt before I go around him, saying hello to some of the other guys until I reach Wirth.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he whispers under his breath.
“I needed to talk to you, and you blocked my phone calls,” I tell him. “Please, Wirth?”
“Who’s this? Who is she?” a big, tattooed man