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“God, I know people who’ve been in for years and never been in the same room as Trey, Rogue, or Oz. Within a month, you’re sleeping with one and on a first-name basis with the other two.” Penny snorted. “The next thing you’re gonna tell me is that you had fucking coffee with Caruso.”
Dahlia stilled. “Sal?”
“Oh fuck, Dahlia!”
This was bad.
****
Trey was beyond livid, and his fury only amplified watching Stark and his men take their seats. Stark and his second, Gerard, sat side by side while Sean and two other members of Stark’s crew stood at their backs a few feet away.
Nash had given him the rundown of the interaction between Sean and Dahlia. Nash had also shared it with Rogue. What should have been a cordial meeting discussing the deals of the next transport had become something none of them could’ve foreseen.
Trey had never been put in this position where he struggled between his professional and personal life. But Sean, unknowingly, had taken a shot at his woman. Trey wasn’t about to let that go. I can’t. He grabbed his glass off the bar and shot back the whiskey in one mouthful. The burn of his throat only magnified the fire in his veins.
Nash, Caine, Cyrus, and Ridge had stayed close to the bar with him while Rogue was seated at his usual table. Once Stark’s men were seated and situated in line, Rogue stood, making his way over to the bar.
“Whiskey,” he snapped at the girl behind the bar and shifted his gaze to Trey. “How we doing this?”
Trey glanced over at the table, taking in all the men, but giving special interest to Sean. Motherfucker! It was bad enough that Dahlia had her own insecurities to contend with, but to have someone come into his place and outwardly offend her? Un-fucking-acceptable. Trey had always seen the bigger picture with business, taking nothing personally.
Until now.
Trey turned to Nash. “We own a higher percentage of the gun trade. Just need a distributor. Got anyone in mind?”
This was a done deal. Stark’s man had taken a shot at Dahlia, and now Trey would unleash his own shot.
“I have one in mind.” He glanced over at Rogue. “Not sure you’re gonna like who it is.”
Ah fuck! Trey instantly knew who Nash was referring to, but it took Rogue a little longer. It was clear from the harsh lines between his brows when he realized.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Rogue shouted.
Killcreek Drifters MC.
Nash held up his hand. “There could be others. Just thinking, if you need a guarantee right now of a crew that would take it, Killcreek would.”
This would ultimately come down to Rogue’s call. Trey had no opposition to working with Killcreek, and as Nash pointed out, they could have other options. Or not. It was a risk cutting ties with Stark and being left to work with Killcreek.
“Your call,” Trey said.
He wouldn’t force Rogue’s hand. That’s not the way they worked. They were a team and worked fluidly since the day they’d started. It had to be mutual.
Rogue grabbed his glass, drank it in one shot, and slammed the glass on the top of the bar. He turned to Trey, glared with a tight scowl, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
“Out of all the fucking women on this goddamn fucking planet, you pick the biggest fucking pain in my ass.” Rogue turned and stalked back to the table. Trey couldn’t help himself and gave into a small smile.
This was more than just breaking a deal over Dahlia. It spoke volumes of what Rogue was willing to do and sacrifice for his woman. And more importantly, for Trey.
He pushed off the bar and walked to the table, standing a few feet away from Rogue. It was his usual spot. He rarely sat down at any meeting. It was his position and one he was proud of. Trey didn’t have to run a meeting to know his importance or worth.
Stark glanced between them. “I’ve got all the details for the next run. I’ve…”
Rogue held up his hand. “Not so fast, motherfucker. We got other business to address first.”
Stark straightened in his seat, looking to Trey for answers. He’d get none. Trey glared back at the man who shifted in his seat.
Rogue pointed over Stark’s shoulder to Sean.
