Crash (Brazen Bulls MC #1)(41)

Gunner shut up.

“To top the whole treat off with a bloody f*cking cherry is Booker Howard. He’s all over Greenwood now, talking up the Hounds, yelling about the cracker bikers thinking they own Tulsa, saying Dyson bends over for us—we could end up fighting each other on home ground. Because you went looking for trouble. Well, brother, you f*ckin’ found it. I oughta call a patch vote on your ass.”

It wasn’t the first time since the fight that Delaney had made that threat, and it wasn’t a threat to be made lightly. The tension in the room ratcheted up a little more, and Gunner’s heavily bruised face lost some of its livid color.

“Only reason I’m not is we got too much business to lose a man. But boy, you are gonna pay. Every goddamn penny we owe Terry is coming out of your take. You are living on your station wages for the foreseeable.” He leaned forward again. “And you are banned from going into any bar in the whole f*cking United States without a brother at your side. The next time you go looking for trouble, brother, I will have your patch. I don’t give a f*ck how much manpower we need. You have used up your chances.”

Gunner stared dumbly, his swollen mouth agape.

After a moment of stunned silence in the room, Delaney said, “Am I understood?”

Gunner nodded. “I’m sorry, Prez.”

“Fuck you,” Delaney sneered. “You weren’t sorry until just now.” Abruptly, he sighed, and the furious tautness eased from his face. “I know you got your demons, son. You gotta find a better way to work ‘em out. You need to take a beating, you got a house full of brothers happy to oblige. Use the ring. Keep it in the family.”

Gunner was tight-lipped about his past, even among his brothers; only Delaney knew what it was that rode the kid so hard. Rad was sure that it had to be guilt, old and deep. Guilt and rage. A nasty, volatile concoction if ever there was one.

“Yeah, D. I hear ya.”

“I hope you do.” With another loaded sigh, Delaney widened his attention to the rest of the table. “Okay. We gotta front the money to Terry to get him back up. That’s gonna deplete the chest. So we need to get this second Russian route going. We also got a delivery to make to the Horde.”

Becker scoffed. “We’re losing money on that deal. They’re getting those guns under cost.”

“It’s voted, Beck,” Dane answered. “We need an ally to the east, and they need help.”

“That little club ain’t much of an ally.”

Delaney picked up the argument. “They hold the whole corridor through Missouri. They’re small, and they got trouble, but you know how far back I go with Ike. Horde’s a steady partner.”

“Because we’re holding ‘em up.”

“It’s voted, Becker,” Rad put in. “You said all this before the vote, and it went through. Let it go.” He’d had the same reservations, but once the vote was in, those reservations were moot. To the president, he said, “I’ll take point on the delivery, D.”

“I want you there, but I’m riding that run, too. And Dane. Full leadership. Tomorrow—early start. I want to head there and back.”

Tomorrow was Willa’s last day of vacation. Rad had entertained the notion of spending as much of that time with her as he could, but he nodded in agreement with his president. Club first.

Besides, it was probably not a bad thing that she got a full day of actual rest.

Delaney turned to Apollo. “When we get back, I want a plan in place for a recon run for the Russian route.”

Apollo was some kind of computer genius and all-around science freak. Rad didn’t understand shit about those big beige boxes, but Apollo could type some gibberish on the screen and come up with information. Plus, his cousin was a uniform with Tulsa PD, and club-friendly, so he had some normal ways of getting information as well.

“On it, Prez,” the kid answered.

“Rad, I’m gonna want you on point for the recon run. Low pro. Just you and Eight.”

Not surprised by that call, Rad nodded.

“Okay,” Delaney said, and picked up the gavel. “That’s about it.”

Before he could hit the table and close the meeting, Rad cut in. “I got somethin’, D. Personal, but might have do with the club, too.” Smithers was a Dirty Rat. Anything Rad did for Willa could blow back on the Bulls. After the deluge of shit Gunner had just gotten buried in, Rad decided full disclosure was the best course.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Willa—”

“That’s your nurse, right?” Delaney interrupted.

“Yeah. Things’re…I like her. Leave it there. But she’s got some trouble I need to handle.”

“Fuck, Rad.” This time it was Dane cutting in. “Not this again. What is it with you and needy women?”

Rad ignored the blast of defensive ire he felt and answered calmly. “This ain’t Dahlia. This is nothin’ like Dahlia. Willa’s got an old boyfriend who don’t take no for an answer. Stalked her. Hurt her bad—real bad—twice. Did hard time for it, but not enough. Now he’s out. She moved outta state, and he’s not around yet, but I don’t want to wait for him to find her. Apollo, I need your help gettin’ his info. I know his name. I know where he’s from. And I know he’s a Dirty Rat. Lubbock charter.”