The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(82)

“Even if we’re not the target Vic’s family most definitely will be,” Pipe says pointedly. “And as much as I hate playing nice with them Italians, Vic did what he promised he’d do. He was as loyal to our club as any of us that wear a patch,” he huffs, turning his gaze back to me. “So is that poor bastard outside this door.”

“You’re giving Charlie too much credit. I don’t think the cocksucker knows jack shit about us being in cahoots with Vic on the hit.”

“If I was Charlie, I’d want to make a play, a move that both avenged the G-Man’s death and gained me control,” Blackie says, not paying attention to anyone as he works out the thoughts in his head. The room grows silent and we all watch as his eyes narrow and stare blankly at the table. “I’d look for the common link between the club standing in my way and the organization that killed my ally,” he continues, raising his head and piercing me with a look.

Glancing around the table, Blackie’s words slowly sink in, not only for me but for everyone sitting around this table, everyone except Riggs.

“Why don’t I go grab our boy Ronan, send him into the clubhouse to see what the fuck is going on?” Riggs starts as he fiddles with his phone. “Throw that bitch into the fire and see if he comes back with any intel. If the Bastards are looking to strike, their clubhouse will be up in arms with the news coming in that their boy was murdered.”

We remained silent, causing his head to lift and his eyes to scan all of our grim faces.

“What? Did I miss something?”

“If I was Charlie, I know exactly who I’d go after,” Blackie continues gravely.

“Me?” Riggs screeches. “What the fuck do I have to do with any of this? No offense guys but this shit you’re talking about went down before my balls even dropped!” He shouts incredulously.

“You married the mob, boy,” Pipe mutters. “Black’s right, this is all you, brother.”

Riggs’ shoulders slump as he shakes his head in disbelief. It doesn’t take him long to snap, something wild born in his eyes as he glares at me.

“Tell me what to do,” he growls.

“Relax, brother,” I try to calm him down, but he slams his fist against the table and rises to his full height, knocking over the chair he was sitting in.

Don’t fucking tell me to relax,” he shouts, pointing a finger to Blackie. “You lost your wife over this shit and I’m sorry, man, real fucking sorry but I almost lost my Kitten and my kid too. I lost fucking Bones. My people did their fucking time for this club. I won’t let anyone else I love hurt over the fucking patch on my cut.”

He swallows hard, his jaw ticking with anger as he glares at me.

“Tell me what to do, Jack,” he insists. “Tell me how I keep them safe from this hell we all chose.”

Leaning forward, I plant my elbows on top of the table and rub my hands along the scruff covering my face.

“Tell me!” He shouts. “Or so fucking help me, Jesus, I will just start fucking shooting them motherfuckers until their threats don’t exist, until their blood pours out and their bodies turn cold. Tell me!”

“Time to make nice with the oil diggers, Richie Rich,” I mutter, pulling my hands away from my face. “You pack up Lauren and the kid and get the fuck out of here until I or any one of the men at this table tell you it is safe for them to come back here.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” I nod.

“And the rest of them?” He questions. “Bianci’s family, what about them?”

Pulling off his hat, he throws it onto the table and points to the door.

“You put me on that man out there, told me to protect him and his family,” he argues.

“I will handle it,” I say, giving him my word, turning my attention to the nomads across the table. “One of you go grab Ronan, send him to the Bastards and see what he comes up with. The rest of you, eyes open—wide fucking open,” I grunt before looking back at Riggs. “Call the folks, Riggs, and whatever you need to do to get your family out of here you let us know and we’ll make it happen. But before you do that, go get your brother-in-law so we can fill him in.” I slam down the gavel.

The chairs scrap against the floor as everyone, except Blackie, solemnly move to file out of the room.

“Bianci,” Riggs calls from the doorway. “Get your ass in here.”

Bottle in hand, Bianci strolls in and takes a seat across the table from me.

“You rang?” He questions, narrowing his eyes as Riggs sits to his left and swipes the bottle out of his hand, guzzling bourbon as if it would erase everything we told him.

Bianci keeps his concentration on Riggs as I proceed to tell him what we suspect will happen with the Corrupt Bastards, and to my surprise he doesn’t even flinch at my words.

He grabs the bottle from Riggs and taps his hand on the table, demanding his brother-in-law’s attention.

“You do as he tells you, take Lauren and Eric to your parents’ house and you wait it out. You stick to her and that boy like glue and don’t let anyone fucking near them,” he says, not as a threat but as his brother-in-law, as his family.

“You hear me?” He questions.

“I hear you,” Riggs assures, taking another swig from the bottle.