Smoke and Steel (Wild West MC #2)(82)

I had all that goodness taking my headspace when there came a knock on the doorframe.

I lifted my head, thinking it would be Yvette telling me she was leaving and I was going to be the last person in the office.

It wasn’t Yvette.

Shock pulsed through me at who I saw standing there, but with one look at her, I had the weird feeling that my world was about to fall out from under me.

“Fancy digs,” was my cousin Eleanor’s greeting.

I sat arrested in the process of sliding my laptop in my briefcase.

My cousin strutted in.

She was pretty, I’d always thought that. She got good from Dad’s side of the family, like Li and I did. She had obviously fake boobs, which normally would not cause me to jump to judgy, but the nasty look on her face and the triumph with which she wore it made me think those boobs made her look skanky.

She was younger than my mom, older than Core, dressed like Pamela Anderson in her glory days (another no-judge, except for Eleanor it wasn’t a style, it was a weapon and that wasn’t okay).

What Rush had heard all those months ago had been legit.

She’d come up to Denver. She’d scoped things out. She might have noticed we had people looking out for us and waited until the time where we didn’t so she could strike without anyone ruining her thrill.

Like she’d waited for Aayansh to leave, knowing I was mostly alone, and as such, vulnerable.

But whatever thrill she was after, she was starting with me.

I gave her a chance not to be a bitch.

I finished shoving my laptop in my bag and asked, “I’m not sure if I should say ‘good to see you.’ You’re not exactly giving that vibe. So I have to ask, is this a friendly visit, Eleanor?”

Without being invited, she sat her round ass in the chair across from me and answered, “Yes. Very.”

I didn’t believe her.

I kept giving her an opportunity anyway.

“You home to see your dad?”

Her face twisted and she didn’t bother to right it.

“Hardly.”

“Okay, I’m surprised to see you out of the blue at my office, and—”

“You are?” she cut me off. “You didn’t know I was back and forth from the Valley these days?”

Oh yes.

She knew we’d been covered.

And now we were not.

“I’d heard—” I began.

“Of course you’ve heard, because you’re fucking Hardcore.”

I didn’t know who she normally played with, but she wasn’t going to play with me.

“Whatever you have planned—”

“Do you know who Rosalie Kavanagh is?”

“No, and I don’t care who she is.”

“Really? You don’t care that she was Beck’s woman, and she was informing on Beck’s club to Chaos, and Beck found out? Now, I know you’re new to the life, so take it from me, that’s not a smart thing to do to an MC. Club business stays club business. No questions. None of those ifs ands or buts. But a rat?” She made a shoo noise. “A rat is dealt with like any rat should be.”

She clapped her hands together loudly, and I jumped.

“Swiftly,” she continued. “And that was what they did with Rosalie. Got her alone and beat that bitch down, she couldn’t even fucking move when they were done with her. Bitch didn’t walk away from that. Left her for dead. Beat her fucking bloody, just like she deserved. Beck did it. Spiderweb did it. Spartan did it. Rainman did it. Muzzle. Eightball.”

I wasn’t breathing.

Because, like I knew she was going to do while I listened to her taking aim, she pulled the trigger.

“And Hardcore,” she finished.

And the bullet tore through me.

She lifted a hand with finger pointed my way and wagged it at me.

“That’s your man. That’s your man’s club.” She settled back, getting into her story. “I mean, Resurrection, girl? Woo, they…are…busy. Mercenary shit, goddamn. Bad…fucking…ass. Who knows what bitches with big mouths, or any bitch who’s earned a smackdown, has gotten from those boys? It’s impressive. I mean, the One Percenters are some scary dudes, but even some of those clubs are terrified of the Angels of Death. All that justice, clan, honor shit?” She shook her head. “The words they don’t ink into their skin are ‘no mercy’.”

Another finger wag.

And then she continued to flay me.

“You doubt me, you ask Rosalie. She’s with a Chaos brother now. Those clubs mingle, because those MC boys don’t put much stock into what their women think, but I bet she doesn’t show at those hog roasts when Resurrection is around.”

Oh my God.

Rosalie was Rosie. I didn’t know her last name. She was married to Snapper, one of Jagger’s Chaos brothers.

While I grappled with this revelation, and visions of that pretty, sweet woman beat bloody, Eleanor sat forward, and her expression turned pure evil.

“No, ask your sis. Archie. She’s Chaos now. I bet she knows all the lore. She’ll tell you. None of those Chaos bitches are down with the alliance between Chaos and Resurrection. They know. Their men just don’t give a shit.”

“Are you done?” I asked, my voice tight.