Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(117)

Sneering, he turned to Blackjack. “Or would you like me to put that up to vote too?”

“Your call, Prez. You know the charter just as well as I do,” Blackjack said, a little hint of sarcasm breaking through. “The national President doesn't need to put all defense decisions up to vote when the club's under imminent threat.”

“Damned straight,” Fang snapped. “I don't know what's going on, but I'm gonna find out. When I do, it'll be time to clean house. We can't fight the cartel head on 'til we stomp the vermin in our own midst. And if it means we've gotta fight the Devils too...well, who am I to hold all the boys back who're jonesing for some Prairie * colors hanging on their walls?”

Several of the rougher men grinned, including Serial. Of course that motherf*cker wanted blood. What else could anybody expect from a psycho f*ck?

The men who lived on senseless war were never my brothers. They never would be. Fuck, I had to get away from this shit, I had to –

The bear claw slapped the table again. Loudly. I blinked, losing my thoughts.

“Business adjourned. Keep your asses on call. I'm gonna need guys back here once I figure out who's been f*cking us, and how we're gonna cut the cartel before they bleed us out.” Fang looked around the room, casting a wide, wicked gaze. “It's all I f*cking do. This club's my life, and I'm its life blood.”

He stood up and left first, followed by the Veep. Brothers got up and started to move, more than a couple giving me nasty looks on the way out. I made my way to the door when the room was halfway clear, with Rabid right behind me.

At the bar, Suzy served us some beers, something to take the edge off. I noticed Serial, Splitter, and a couple other ruthless *s at the other end, and I made damned sure they kept their distance.

How f*cked was I? Really? The only thing that hadn't screwed me over today was all the drama keeping their attention on the Prez's vote. Nobody gave me shit yet about Missy not showing up to clean today – or maybe they figured she deserved some slack after what Serial did last night.

“You voted the way I wanted to,” Rabid finally said. “You know that, brother? I just couldn't bring myself to do it...the vote was f*cked from the beginning. Nobody has the balls to kick him out and take the cartel on. Nobody!”

“It's done,” I grunted, staring into my beer. “So's digging my grave deeper. I'm gonna tell you, Rabid, and nobody else. You've been a real brother to me.”

Rabid's eyebrows went up. He leaned in close for me to whisper.

“In a week or so, I'm taking the girls north. They're getting the f*ck away from this shit in case I can't. I'm not gonna let my old lady and the kid be a slave to this f*cked up club.”

Rabid peeled away, rocking back. His eyes were wide as he picked up his beer and gulped the last two-thirds, slamming the glass on the counter when he was done.

“Christ, brother. Shit.” He shook his head. “You really think that's wise when Fang was practically calling you a rat to your face?”

“Got no choice. I'm a natural target. I tried to vote him out and my sis is married to the * Prez in Montana. If Fang's gonna string me up and rip my throat out, I'm not gonna leave my girl defenseless. They've gotta get away from all this.”

Rabid cocked his head. “Shit, bro. You're really into this chick, aren't you?”

I nodded. No point in hiding it, and I didn't f*cking want to.

“She's warming to me, Rabid. I intend to keep it that way. Sure, I claimed her to keep her alive at first...but now? There's something there. Something real f*cking nice. She's becoming the stuff an old lady's made of.”

Rabid smiled. He slapped my shoulder in a way that surprised me. The man who likes his girls steady, hot, and plentiful actually understood, and it surprised the shit outta me.

“I got your back, Brass. If you need to get away from all this shit...just get up and go...I'm not gonna stand in your way. Won't help anybody who does neither. You're a true brother.”

I didn't say a word. Just finished my beer, turned to him, and gave a manly hug before taking off.

I wasn't sure if I'd be able to walk outta this clubhouse alive in the coming week. But as long as I had one more day, a couple good men, and my girl behind me, I'd die happy. As long as I got them away from this hell, I'd die like a man, working off the junkie f*ckups I still deserved to burn for.

I got in late. The apartment was weirdly quiet, and I had to take a stroll through it to see that I wasn't alone.

“Where's Jackie?” I said, stepping into the bedroom.

Missy was curled up beneath a blanket, reading some shit she'd printed off the old computer. “Christa took her out to the museum. I know, you said no trips out of the apartment...but I figured after last night, that might've changed. She won't talk, Brass. She's really grown on you.”

My head started pounding. I leaned on the woodwork in the door frame and ran my fingers through my hair.

“Fuck, babe. You gotta tell me when you give the okay for shit like this. We're not free and clear yet.”

She sat up, her eyes wide. “Did anybody ask about me today?”

“No. The club was too distracted with other bullshit. I told my number one brother what's coming. He's cool with it.”