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Chapter Thirteen
I don’t wantto hear anything else Lola has to say, so I leave her standing there and take off up the corridor. I’m so incensed by her words that it takes me a moment to realise I’ve got myself turned around. I’ve never been in this part of the clubhouse and I have no clue where I am or how to get back to the common room.
Finding a stairwell, I walk down the steps and end up on what must be the ground level.
Just as I’m debating walking back the way I came, I hear raised voices. I pause. I don’t want to get caught where I shouldn’t be, but when I hear the word ‘Saxons’ my feet stop me in my tracks.
I flatten myself against the wall and strain my ears to hear what is being said.
“…not to get involved,” a deeply masculine voice declares.
“They’re friends and allies.” Dax. That’s Dax’s voice. “I couldn’t stand back and do nothing.”
“So you brought all their old ladies here?”
Worse than that, Dax brought all the family here. I hope he’s not about to get into trouble for his actions.
“I did what I had to do. I won’t step back and let friends of the Devils drown.”
“I like the Saxons too. I respect the fuck out of Derek, but the last thing we need is to get dragged into this shit storm between them and the fucking Reapers.”
There’s a snort, then, “You’re not scared of those little shitheads, are you?”
“What do you think, fucknuts?”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You were given a direct order. That’s my problem.”
“No offence, but this is still my club.”
“I’m not—”
“We’re not sending those women away,” Dane’s voice snaps through the other man’s. “I don’t give a fuck what you say. We’re not.”
“No one asked for your opinion.”
“Whether you asked for it or not, you’re getting it, Maverick.”
Maverick… he’s the London chapter’s president. He sounds pissed as he grinds out, “Maybe you should remember who the fuck is in charge here.”
“I have one president, and that’s Dax.”
There’s silence for a moment, and my heart begins to beat at a gallop in my chest. I hold my breath as I try to listen over the sound of the blood pounding through my ears. While I appreciate Dane going toe to toe with his National Chapter, I don’t want him to get into trouble for it either.
“If you want to push this, Dane—”
“Okay, let’s just take a breather,” Dax interjects. “Dane’s right, though. We’re not kicking those women out and leaving them vulnerable.”
“Yeah, you are because if you don’t, Dax, I’ll have your fucking patch.”
“You fucker! You can’t do that.” I hear the anger, the rage in Dane’s voice.
My heart sinks. How much danger have the Devils—has Dax—put himself in for me and my family.
“You can take my patch off my cold, dead body,” Dax tells him, his voice low. “I earned my stripes. I did my time in the trenches. No one is pulling me from my position unless it’s my boys. They decide they don’t like how I’m doing shit, I’ll stand down, but not for you or any other fucker.”
“Dax, come on, man,” Maverick says, his tone more conciliatory, “I know you’re smart. Why are you doing this?”
