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“Do you want to explain the broken headlamps on three bikes out the front?”
Weed shifts his shoulders again. “Clumsy riders.”
His brow lifts. “Are you suggesting that damage was caused by an accident?”
Weed’s temper frays a little around the edges as he grinds out, “I’m not suggesting shit, but I can tell you right now there were no gunshots here.”
Morgan doesn’t look convinced, his mouth curling down at the corners as he takes the room in, seeking more evidence of a crime.
“What the fuck is the meaning of this?” Derek demands as he slams in through the common room doors.
My stomach relaxes a little. Derek being here means things will calm down. The Club’s president is a good diplomat and adept at handling the police.
Surprisingly, he isn’t a big man, but he has a big presence. His goatee is trimmed short and he tugs on it as he comes to a stop before Morgan, his eyes narrowing.
“Do you want to explain?” he demands.
Morgan doesn’t back down or show any fear. He just stares down at the man who is at least a head shorter than him.
“Just following up on a report, Chambers,” Morgan says, as if he’s not standing in the lion’s den. Then again he has a slew of armed guards backing him up.
I wonder who reported the shooting. The clubhouse isn’t off the beaten track, but it’s not exactly close to civilisation either. Nosey civilians.
“Yeah, well, whatever your reports say unless you’ve got a warrant to be here you’d best get fucking gone before I get my solicitor down here. I’m sure he’d have a field day with this.”
Morgan’s jaw clenches, and he huffs out a breath before he glances around once more. He signals to his men, rotating his finger in the air.
The clatter of boots on the floor is loud as they clear out the room. Morgan walks slowly to Derek and steps into his space, his gaze hard.
“I know shit is going down here, and whatever it is I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
Derek meets his eyes, his mouth pulled into a tight line. Tension crackles between the two men like a live electric wire.
“So you keep saying, but so far you haven’t uncovered shit. Maybe you should find someone else to piss off. We’re just a bike club, pal.”
This is a lie. I may be naïve in a lot of ways, but I’m more than clued up on the fact the Club’s bread and butter is earned through drug running.
Morgan clearly knows this too, even if he can’t prove it. He grits his teeth and mutters an insincere, “Sorry for the intrusion.”
Derek snorts. “You might want to fight real crime, instead of making things up to harass law abiding citizens.”
Law abiding is pushing it. Morgan agrees because his brow twitches and his mouth draws into a line.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, Mr Chambers.”
There’s a hint of malice and a whole lot of threat in his words that Derek either ignores or doesn’t care enough to register.
As soon as Morgan clears the room, Derek moves over to Weed and they start talking. I can’t hear what they’re saying from here, and I doubt I’d want to.
The less you know…
“Well, that was intense,” Beth mutters, watching as Chloe slowly approaches her man.
Weed notices her immediately and gestures for her to come to him, which she does. He then engulfs her in his arms in a way that has my stomach panging. Yeah, I’d give my right arm to have the kind of love my brothers, Weed and Wade have with their old ladies… minus the biker. I do not need that level of bossy in my life.
“You okay?” Sofia asks me, clinging to my hand.
I nod and hide my shaky hands by putting them under my thighs and sitting on them. My whole body feels like it’s trembling.
