Wirth (Dirty Aces MC #5) - Lane Hart Page 0,48
in the middle of the floor with a swollen lip and eye but is otherwise no worse for wear, suddenly looks very interested in our conversation.
“Are you fucking insane?” Nash asks me. “You could’ve been killed!”
“I went in unarmed to talk, that’s it,” I assure them, and Rian seems the most relieved. “Apparently the Irish were under the impression that the Knights were still dealing heroin. They were concerned about the competition. I assured them that the Knights gave up heroin as part of their agreement to join the Dirty Aces. That is true, isn’t it?” I ask Hunt.
“Well, ah,” he rubs the back of his neck. “We’re still…transitioning.”
“What the fuck do you mean you’re ‘transitioning’?” Malcolm turns on him to ask. “We had an agreement.”
“We haven’t sold any in Wilmington,” Hunt says. “We’re just unloading the rest of our supply back in Fayetteville.”
“I don’t care if you have to flush it down the toilet. I want that shit gone today!” Malcolm shouts at him. “Either it goes, or you go.”
“Fine, fine,” Hunt agrees. “I’ll make a call, and it’ll be done.”
“Good,” I say. “And that means there’s only one other thing left to deal with.”
“What’s that?” Silas asks.
“Cormac’s agreed to make amends for the shooting by taking a bullet himself,” I explain.
“What? No!” Rian yells. “He can’t do that! Shoot me instead!”
Malcolm and the guys look from the boy to me with their brows raised in question. “Cormac was pretty adamant that he wanted it to be him and not Rian.”
“That’s ridiculous! He’s in charge. He can’t do this!” Rian declares.
“He said you were actually supposed to be the man in charge, once you decide to be a man,” I tell him and the others.
“I’m not ready!” Rian says.
“Obviously,” Malcolm mutters to him before turning his attention back to me. “So that’s it. The Knights give up heroin, Cormac takes a bullet, and all is well in Wilmington?”
“That’s it,” I agree.
“Huh,” Dev says. “If it was that fucking easy, why didn’t the Irish just talk to us before?”
“That’s what I said,” I reply. “Guess they assumed the worst. From what I gather, they had an antagonistic relationship with the Knights.”
“I still can’t believe you went alone to negotiate,” Nash says with a shake of his head. “You’ve got balls of steel, man.”
“And I’m guessing he’s also got a dick of steel if he’s willing to go to all this trouble for a woman,” Malcolm says with a chuckle. “She nearly got us all killed!”
“I know,” I tell him. “But so did these assholes, and you voted to let them in.” I point to Hunt and his crew.
“Touché,” Malcolm replies. “So, when do we meet?”
“Tonight at seven at the pier?” I suggest. “There are no cameras and shouldn’t be much of a crowd.”
“Set it up,” Malcolm agrees.
“Take me with you!” Rian begs. “I’ll change Cormac’s mind.”
“What are we going to do with our captives?” Dev asks.
“Leave them here with you and Silas until the deal is done?” I offer.
“You good with that, Dev? Silas?” Malcolm asks the two men.
“Yeah,” Devlin agrees.
“Sure thing, prez,” Silas says. “As long as you take at least one of the other chapters with you to have your back.”
“Will do,” Malcolm agrees. To Silas, he tips his chin toward Rian and says, “Now that we’re done with him, you can lock him in the bedroom with his sister.”
“Will do,” Silas responds.
“You coming with me?” our president asks.
“Hell yes. I set this up, so I want to be there to make sure it goes off without a hitch,” I tell him.
“Good. Now I’ve got a few hours to decide where to shoot the bastard.”
“Please don’t! Take me!” Rian pleads as Silas and Dev pick up his chair and carry it and him to the bedroom.
“What’s that about?” Malcolm whispers.
“I have no idea,” I tell him as I watch the men disappear into the room and try to get a glimpse of Maeve. I know she doesn’t want to see me, and I fucking hate it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Maeve
“Rian! You’re okay!” I say when I shoot off the bed to go see him.
Two men slam the chair he’s attached to down and then leave, quickly closing the door behind them.
My brother’s face is pretty messed up, but he’s alive and can recover from a few superficial wounds. What worries me is that he’s also distraught. His eyes are glassy, and it looks like he’s hurting. Maybe the pain is worse than it looks. He could have some internal injuries.
“What’s wrong?”