Smoke and Steel (Wild West MC #2)(24)

“Okay, so should I say anything to my mom at all?”

“I wouldn’t.”

There was a beat of silence, and then she asked in a careful way that wasn’t like her, “Is Chaos involved in this too?”

“Yup,” he confirmed. “We’re indirect, Chaos is direct. One of the Chaos brother’s old lady is sister to the president of Aces High.”

Hearing this, she reminded him, “She’s dad’s cousin, Core. They aren’t close, and she took a different path in life, but they’re cut from the same cloth. Dad’s whole side explores dysfunctional in a myriad of ways.”

Well, hell.

Now he was realizing why they covered Hellen, Haley, Andy and Liane, and not the dad, even though Nails was blood with him.

Because Rush knew the dad was not close to his daughters, so he didn’t bother to ask for that manpower. So, if Nails fucked with his life or dragged him into shit, Rush didn’t care.

“You think she might have gone to your dad?” he asked.

“I just think it’s weird I don’t hear from him for two years, you show up on the lookout for her, then Dad calls about Granddad being sick. Granddad is her uncle. And I’ve been accused of being cynical because I am, but Dad hates Andy. And Andy’s daughter is married to a Chaos brother.”

If what she was alluding to was true, this was next level asshole.

“Would your dad play you like that?”

“I want to say no. I want to think he’s unhealthy for me because he’s messed up, though bottom line, there’s love there somewhere. But…”

She let that hang.

This meant she wasn’t in the clear.

She was out there.

Which meant this meeting he called needed to happen pronto.

“Okay, babe, I’m at my clubhouse now. We’re having a meeting. I’ll tell the men. But we’ll be looking into this.”

“Okay.”

He was about to end their chat when she called his name.

“Yeah?” he said.

“I don’t know, just, uh…thanks, I guess.”

“Best expression of appreciation I’ve ever gotten, babe,” he teased.

“It’s a talent of mine,” she retorted.

He started laughing, even as he made a special effort to ignore he’d been doing that a lot lately, all around her. Laughing more than he had in twenty years, even when Kiki was in his bed, and Kiki was damned funny.

“Talk to you later,” she said.

“Later, sweetheart.”

They disconnected.

Beck was watching him closely.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Hellen. Shit’s going down, brother,” Core told him.

“I was guessing that when you told everybody to haul their asses in for a meeting,” Beck replied. He looked to Core’s phone then back to his face. “Knew you had to come out for her last night, but now you two are pals?”

He shrugged. “She’s edgy. She’s hilarious. And she’s a ballbuster.”

“Just your type,” Beck muttered.

Yeah, in heels with designer bags.

Fuck.

“We need to do this meeting, Beck. Shit’s going down.”

Beck nodded and turned to the brothers hanging around the pool table.

“Let’s do it,” he called.

No hesitation, Beck made the order, the men were on the move.

Some of them got fresh beers, and Core tagged his own.

They went to the meet room, grabbed their cuts off the pegs on the wall and shrugged them on.

Some of the members were already in there, sitting the table, drinking a brew and shooting the shit, so there were some greetings with fist-bump hand clasps that ended in a forearm hit, the unofficial handshake of Resurrection.

And then they all took their seats.

Beck’s reign couldn’t have been more different than their last president, Spiderweb.

Web was still with them; he was now chaplain.

But Web’s reign was chaotic and led to them going down a path they nearly couldn’t pull themselves away from.

It wasn’t entirely Web’s fault. They all participated. And they had a couple of snakes in their garden that poisoned the crew, both of whom had now long been excised.

That had been when they were called Bounty, and they’d been so fucked-up, they’d lost their charter.

With Beck’s guidance, they rose from those ashes.

Now, Resurrection had order. Their bylaws were long and thorough. And there was a lot of shit you could do that was considered so out of line, you were out, no chance to defend yourself, your patch was stripped.

Gone.

These things included breaking the law (unless that activity was club mandated), touching your old lady or any woman in anger, ditto kids, consuming narcotics that weren’t legal, and hitting a piece that wasn’t in a condition to consent (and this went so far as non-consent of any kind might lead to them having a chat with one of their LEO associates).

There was shit you could get called out for in a way you didn’t want it, and that included not going to scheduled training, not attending mandatory meetings, not pulling your weight during missions, same with not doing your part to make sure the brotherhood’s business interests ran smoothly.