Page 44 of Riding Dirty

Cake and I go back to the clubhouse. The last thing I can do is have this conversation in Elodie’s apartment. It feels like I’m cheating on her, even though I am definitely not. First of all, I am not going to be fucking claiming Chassis. Not when I have Elodie, and I haven’t even claimed her.

I don’t know if I plan on it either.

I’m almost fifty years old. I don’t know if I plan to claim any woman, ever, but if there was one, it would be Elodie. Not Chassis. Elodie’s the one I want, if I it got down to me needing to pick, if I had to choose. Chassis is nowhere in my brain space and never has been.

Dare is standing with his back to the front door when we walk through. Cake doesn’t want to have this conversation here, and I get it. He doesn’t want a bunch of guys to offer themselves as tribute in an effort to become the big dick of the Iron Flame MC.

When we step into the bar, Dare no doubt senses our arrival, and I watch as he slowly turns his head, looking over his shoulder, and I see when he realizes just who is standing beside me.

Immediately, Dare stands. He wasn’t expecting to see us. Tearing my gaze from Dare, I jerk my chin toward the hallway, then tell Cake that he can follow me. He knows where the office is, and he knows that’s where this conversation is happening.

A few moments later, we’re all three in the office, with the door locked. None of us sits behind the desk. That’s not what this is. Cake lounges on the sofa that is pushed against the wall, and Dare and I flip the chairs around to face him, sinking down in those seats before anyone says a word.

Surprisingly enough, Cake isn’t the first to speak. It’s Dare. And when he does, he shocks the absolute shit out of me. I didn’t realize we had eyes on the border of town. Mainly, my focus is on fire contracts and shit, not club security.

“Clocked you coming into town. Did some recon,” he states.

Cake jerks his chin forward, his eyes searching mine for a moment, then he flicks his attention over to Dare. He arches a brow, no doubt waiting for him to continue, wondering how much recon he’s done and what he knows.

Dare doesn’t give shit away, at least not immediately. He shifts in the chair beside me, crossing his legs and resting his ankle at his knee. Cake leans back against the couch cushions, lifting his arms and spreading them across the back as he waits for Dare.

There is a moment of silence, a long one. They stare at one another, and I’m about to just say the shit about Chassis when Dare finally speaks.

“It took me all of five minutes to figure out why you would be here. First, I just assumed you were going to send one of your sons to take over this club as president, considering we’re the closest one to you. But that didn’t make sense, because one could take over for you, and the other two could start their own chapters, so that would be fucking pointless. So it’s Chassis.”

“It’s Chassis,” Cake confirms.

“She’s knocked up.”

Cake’s eyes widen, and I watch as he tries to figure out just how Dare knew that. His attention flicks to me, and I hold my hands up in innocence. I didn’t tell anyone a goddamn thing. I open my mouth to say that, but Dare continues.

“She posted an announcement on her social media. It’s public. You might want to tell her to lock her shit down.”

The color rises in Cake’s face, his cheeks turn bright fucking red, and I honestly don’t even think he’s seeing anything right now; he looks that pissed. It’s a good thing Chassis isn’t here, because I have a feeling he would end her right about now.

“That dumb girl,” he grinds out. “Stupid fucking girl.”

“So you’re here because? I mean, I got the gist of it, but I don’t know what you want with us,” Dare continues.

The shock wears off Cake’s face almost immediately. That’s when he realizes that while Dare knows some stuff, he doesn’t know everything. And I guarantee he’ll be dealing with Chassis later about her post. But for now, his focus is this.

“Need someone to claim Chassis,” he announces.

Dare blinks, then he clears his throat, blinking again, and thankfully, he doesn’t jump up and tell Cake to pound sand, not that I think he would, not really. There is still a level of respect here that Cake has and will always hold.

Plus, if Cake wanted to demand this be done, he would be well within his rights to do so. Though I don’t think he ever would. He’s just not that kind of guy. However, right now, he seems really fucking desperate, and I have a feeling he would do anything, even if it was out of character, to save his daughter.

“You need to give me more information before I can even think about what that shit would entail,” Dare states.

Cake grunts, sliding his palms down the thighs of his jeans as he clears his throat, then jerks his chin once before he speaks. Thankfully, he explains a little bit more about what the fuck he wants from us and why he wants our help in particular.

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, shifting forward, and places his elbows just above his knees. He brings his hands up, pressing them together in front of his mouth. His eyes close slowly, and he exhales a deep breath, then flicks his eyes open, and his gaze focuses on Dare.

“Perov Bratva.”

That name sends a chill down my spine. I open my mouth to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about, because no way in hell did Chassis get mixed up with one of the Perov men. They’re in Vegas, and she is in Prescott, Arizona.

Im-fucking-possible.