Gunnar A Motorcycle Club Romance - Nina Levine Page 0,3
war.
It’s that look that does it.
And the hysterical plea in my woman’s voice.
History is repeating itself.
This time, though, I won’t survive it.
I’ve given my heart to Chelsea this time. Every last piece of it. If she does what he wants, there’s no way my body will ever accept it back.
“Chelsea.” I demand her attention. “Don’t do anything, baby. Not until you speak to me again.”
She stares at me in silence.
“Chelsea! Promise me you won’t let him fucking bully you into shit this time.” When she doesn’t respond, I bark, “Fucking promise me!”
She blinks, and it’s in that hesitation that I fucking know.
She’s going to fucking annihilate me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Gunnar
3 months later
I stare at the guy lying dead at my feet before looking up and meeting Griff’s gaze. He didn’t give me strict instructions not to kill the motherfucker, but by the look on his face, he maybe should have.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “This complicates shit.”
“Why?” I shrug. “He wasn’t going to do what Moss wanted anyway.”
“He’s got a point,” J says.
“Yeah,” Griff agrees, “but I would have rather given Moss the opportunity to make this call. Now we have a fucking mess to clean up that we don’t have time for.” He checks his watch before looking at me again. “You and J wrap the body and clean the scene while I get the van. Work fast because we have another job to take care of tonight after we deal with this.”
I nod and get to work with J while Griff leaves to swap his bike for one of the club vans.
Forty minutes later, I’m a sweaty mess after cleaning up and getting the body ready to dispose of. October in Brisbane, in a house without air conditioning, is hell.
“You ready?” Griff asks when he arrives back.
J nods. “Yeah. Just give me a minute to finish wiping the room down.”
Griff and I load the body into the van while J does the room. My vice president is pissed at me, but he’s keeping it to himself. Griff’s patience always fucking astounds me.
“You should get it out,” I say as we close the back of the van.
He looks at me. “Get what out?”
“Your anger. I fucked up.”
He exhales. “Yeah, you did.” He pauses, watching me thoughtfully for a moment. “You’ve been fucking up a bit lately, brother. What’s going on?”
The last thing Griff wants to hear is the truth, so I don’t give it to him. “I’ve got a lot of family shit on my mind.” This isn’t a lie. I do have shit going on with my family.
“You need some time off to deal with that?”
“The last thing the club needs is me taking time off.”
“That’s the fucking truth, but what we really don’t fucking need are dead bodies when the cops are watching us like they are. So if you need the time, take it.”
J exits the house and joins us as I say, “I don’t need time off. I’ll get my shit together.”
Griff’s eyes bore into me. “Make sure you do.” He looks between J and me. “We’ll dump the body in the usual spot, and then we’ll need to stop off and see Moss so I can let him know what’s happened.”
Since the cops cracked down on the club three months ago, Griff prefers to discuss as much business as possible with our clients in person rather than over the phone. Especially any business that has to do with Dwayne Moss. We’ve been cleaning up his messes for years now, but his connections to Premier Novak caused the club to sever ties with him just after the crackdown. Somehow, though, he’s managed to worm his way back in, and here we are handling shit for him again. We’re just a lot more careful about how we do that now. This time he asked us to strong-arm some government official who has been blocking an approval Moss needs to help push his mine development ahead. Fuck knows how he’ll take the news the guy’s dead, but it can’t be a good look when one of the guys holding up a multi-billion-dollar mining project suddenly disappears.
Two hours later, we’re finished with the body and have made our way to Moss’s home.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” J mutters, staring at the house that’s lit up with a party. “The last thing we need is to be seen here.”
He’s right, there has to be hundreds of guests at this party.