Page 84 of Property of Rattler

“The fake marriage worked,” Piston states. “It drew Stone out.”

“The marriage wasn’t fake,” I growl.

“Do you hear yourself, Rat?” Freak snorts. “Where’s the‘I’m never going to be tied down,’asshole now?”

Words snorts. “Word is the marriage wasn’t consummated, so it’s easy to annul.”

I can’t contradict him, but I wish I’d had the opportunity to fuck her back in the cabin. We’d been working up to it, when Stone attacked. I’d only turned her down because I wanted to take things slow. I’d be her first, for fuck’s sake. To be honest, I was nervous, wanting,needingto make it good for her. Treating her so differently to anyone else that had come before.

Bullseye clears his throat, and I bring myself back to the present. Apparently, they’re still discussing making my marriage null and void. I narrow my eyes at him, he fucking knows my feelings about her. Why doesn’t he shut this shit down?

“Yeah, Ames can tell the judge you’ve got a pencil dick that doesn’t work,” Stalker observes while sporting a wide grin.

It’s exactly the type of comment that I would have come up with myself in the not-so-distant past, but right now, I can’t summon the energy to snipe back at him. Instead, I work on persuading them. If they won’t believe that me, Rattler, has fallen for a girl, perhaps I can use something else to convince them. “Have you forgotten the money? Club stands to gain five million dollars if we hang on a few years.”

“Four,” Tempest corrects, his eyes narrowing. “Because as I recall, you were to pocket a cool million.” He gives a heavy sigh, and his brow furrows as he tosses out his accusation. “Is this what your change of heart is all about? You want to stay married to get the money? Because that I can understand.”

My hand, the one not constrained by the sling, slashes down. “I don’t give a fuck about the money.”

Woody kicks out his legs and pushes his chair back a few inches to give himself room. He stares at me for a moment as if I’m a puzzle to be solved. “If it’s not the money, are you saying, you give a fuck about her?” He snorts a laugh as if he can’t believe what he’s saying.

“Oh, come on, Mr.I’m not ever getting caught in the ol’ lady trap.You want us to think this is anything other than the green?” Paint rubs his forefinger and thumb together.

“If she’s sensible, she’ll ditch your ass. Soon as she knows any danger to her is all over.”

If I could walk unaided, I’d get up and punch Winchester in the mouth right about now.

“It isn’t over,” Saint observes. “Not until we know the Russian won’t be a problem.”

Piston waggles his fingers. “Her brother’s no longer a threat. He’ll be dead as soon as we arrange it. As long as we keep her out of the Russian’s hands, in six years we’ll all be rolling in it.”

My fist hits the table. I don’t want any fucking money. I want her.

Bullseye clears his throat before I can say anything. A clear signal he’s going to speak.

“If the club wants to claim its payday, we’ll have to assess the risk. We’ll need to keep an eye on her and continue to provide protection.” His mouth twists. “From what Stone spouted under duress, the Russian was pretty keen on taking her for himself. He’s abrigadier,fuck knows how manyBoyevikihe’s got. If he’s determined to have her, that might mean facing the Russians.” He pauses to rub his brow. “I’m going to speak to the Pakhan, and see how the land lies. Once the insurance claims are settled, we’ll be able to pay off Stone’s debt if we have to. As for Rodion Volkov, maybe he’ll dispose of him himself. Stone gave us enough info that I think would convince him he’s got a dirty player in his ranks.” Again, he breaks off, this time to sigh. “But if he sides with Volkov and agrees he’s got a claim due to promises Stone made, then we’ve got to be prepared to throw hands.” He purses his lips. “Ames is still worth ten million.”

Ames is fucking mine.I open my mouth to tell them so, but don’t get a chance.

“In which case we can trade the woman to him,” Woody puts in.

I try to stand, but my legs betray me, and I sink back into my chair. All I can use are my words. “Over my dead fuckin’ body.”

Murmurings start, I’m sure someone’s said words to the effect of,that could be arranged.

Bullseye bangs the gavel loudly. His steely glare encompasses everyone. “Can I remind you only yesterday there was an empty chair where Rat is sitting now? Don’t even fuckin’ joke about losing a brother.” He slams both his hands down.

Silence descends, and brothers look contrite.

“Sorry, Rat. I was joking,” Winchester offers.

Piston shrugs. “Said nothing other than what you would have said, Bro.”

And he ain’t wrong. It’s just not the same when it’s directed to me. And far too close to the bone, seeing as only hours ago, I’d thought I was facing my last moments sitting with a fucking bomb on my lap.

Stalker sits forward. “We went into this based on there being a payday for the club. And we’ve already racked up costs protecting her, like having to replace the gates for a start.” He shakes his head. “They weren’t cheap.” I glare at him, but he’s only looking out for the club as our treasurer. He looks at me, then his eyes become more alert as he switches his attention to our tech guy. “Ames might come into some money now. Genie, can you see if Stone left a will?”

“Already looked into him,” Genie purses his lips. “He ain’t got anything to leave. He went through his inheritance like a knife through butter. He’s got a posh pad, but it’s mortgaged to the hilt, and he’s behind on payments.”