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CHAPTER FOUR
___________________________
ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE
AND KNICKER TORPEDOES
JUDGE
“SHE’S CLUB BUSINESS.”
I slammed my hand on the table. “She’s my business.”
“Brother, you brought her to the club and sat her at a table with us during a dinner no woman has ever been to—including old ladies. And, not for nothin’, you gave her our names.” Hollywood dipped his head toward the door. “She’s club business.”
My hand fisted as I slouched back because, fuck me, he was right.
Taking my silence for what it was—my concession to his point—he moved on. “I’m not sayin’ you were wrong. None of us are arguing that. With shit as crazy as it is, we’ve gotta be careful. We just also need to be on the same page.”
“If shit blows up, it falls on me and me alone. No one else is getting dragged into it. Dair should’ve landed by now, and he’s heading right to Ophelia’s place. Nox is on it, too. The two of ‘em will find out shit even she doesn’t know about herself.”
“And if she’s Nash’s?” Lash asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Jury said, using the answer I’d given him earlier.
My brother—the one by blood and not just by choice—might’ve thought I’d lost my mind, but when push came to glock-in-the-face, he had my back.
Always had.
Always would.
“How bad was her place hit?” Swedes asked, genuinely concerned about her and not just our asses.
Man’s a sucker for a compliment about his chicken.
“Bad,” I forced through gritted teeth.
“Most of her shit’s ruined,” Jury expanded. “Left a message and used her underwear to spell it out.”
Before I put a fist through the damn table, I changed the subject. “Got a run next week to Tennessee to plan. Is everything in place? What’s left to do?”
Glitch turned his tablet around and began going over the route, schedule, and other shit no one but him would think of ahead of time. Every once in a while, one of the men glanced my way—likely trying to gauge how out of my damn mind I was—but they kept their mouths shut.
Thank Christ, because there was no denying my head wasn’t where it should’ve been.
It was in the other room with a pissed off princess.
_______________
“Is everyone leaving?”
I turned to see Ophelia standing on her toes to look over my shoulder, her hands fidgeting with her tee.
“Yup,” I confirmed over the roar of bikes. “Meeting wrapped.”
And it took long enough.
I’d hoped to have shit done in under an hour, but between the changes, bickering, and eventual return to talking about Ophelia, it’d stretched to nearly two.
