Page 71 of Glacier

“Hang on.” I checked the timestamp on her messages telling me she was on her way back. “She should be nearing Bitterthorn about now if everything went okay on her run.”

“Fuck, fuck. Okay,” Jude muttered. “I’ll take Abel and Zeke. We’ll try to intercept her and get the product moved.”

“Fuck,” I whispered again, hating that he’d been put in this position. “I’m sorry, Jude.”

I never apologised. It wasn’t something I did. When we put this plan in motion all those years ago, we never wanted our lives to cross like this. It muddied the waters.

“It’s what brothers do, Glacier. We may not be Club, but that doesn’t make us any less brothers. We’ll take care of your Ol’ Lady. I’ll call you when we find her.”

My gaze moved between Lurch and Lawless as they listened to the conversation. My throat tightened. Fucking loved the brotherhood—even the ones I couldn’t publicly claim.

“Appreciate that, Jude. We’re an hour out, but we’ll make up time where we can. I’ll wait for your call.”

“Fuck, Glacier,” Lawless muttered. “This isn’t good. We keep Ol’ Ladies out for a reason.”

“I know, brother. But Juju’s been in the life a long time. Should’ve known she’d step up. Let’s ride. Jude will call when he finds her. Just fucking hope it’s not too late.”

Half an hour later, I was talking to Juju, assuring her she could trust Jude. She didn’t panic. Or if she did, she didn’t let me know. Didn’t question me. Just listened and moved on. Fucking perfect Ol’ Lady. Never been prouder in my life that she was mine.

We rode hard and fast. My phone was blowing up with messages, but we didn’t stop until I saw the clubhouse gates.

The Prospect on duty hurried to open them, and we blew through. Parking in our allocated spots, I ripped off my helmet and saw a dozen messages from brothers—about a mole, Juju, and the Tarts.

“Fucking hell.” Lurch had his phone in his hand, reading the group chat.

Lawless shook his head. “Zero’s going to be busy as fuck.”

“He is,” I agreed, swinging a leg over my bike.

I stood next to my brothers, flicking through the messages. I didn’t like what I was reading. I’d deal with it—but my first thought was getting my hands on Juju.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I stalked to the clubhouse door and pushed it open hard enough that it slammed against the wall. My gaze zeroed in on my Ol’ Lady, holding court at one of the tables. The brothers who’d been blowing up my phone surrounded her, looking grim. The big-ass knife Steel gifted her sat on the table in front of her.

Jesus, if she wasn’t the fucking perfect Ol’ Lady.

She saw me coming and rose to her feet as I closed the distance. The knife disappeared into the sheath under her shirt.

Then she was in my arms, and my heart settled back into a regular rhythm. My blood pressure dropped. The urge to smash something faded as she kissed me.

For now, everything was right in my world.

Tomorrow? I’d deal with missing whores, gun shipments, and a brother who might hate me—but still did right by me.

Yeah… tomorrow was soon enough for all that.

***

Church the next day was held in the common room. The remaining Tarts had been banished to their quarters and locked in—we’d deal with them later.

The brothers were loud. They were pissed. I got it. I was fucking pissed too.

Whistling for silence, I slammed my hand down on the table. I remained standing, with Lawless and Lurch flanking me. Lawless cracked his knuckles, something he only did when he was stressed as fuck.

Our Officers lined the walls like sentries, while the rest of the brothers crowded the common room. Zero sat off to the side, his face buried in his computer screen, fingers moving.

I looked at him when the room finally fell silent. “Is the room clear?”

“Yes, Pres.” Zero tapped a final key. “I’ve gone over it twice.”