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“Just be sure about the women you invite,” said Zep as they stood to leave. “We don’t want any spies crashing the festivities.”
Sonny raised his hand in acknowledgement as he and Adam left the shed.
“I’ll get on to Rita, get those patches organised for Brodie and Tosh.” Connor made a note on the pad in front of him. Rita was a seamstress based in Cabramatta. She’d been making cuts and patches for The Devils for as long as anyone could remember.
Zep nodded. Usually, he and Connor would talk after a meeting, particularly if there was something Zep wanted clarified with a member. But he wasn’t interested in going another round with Connor over Rachel and Abby, and the meeting hadn’t raised any concerns for him. His exit, however, was cut short by the appearance of Jacko in the doorway.
“Prez? You got a minute?”
“What’s up, Jacko?”
“One of my spiders just got a hit on Rachel Sloane.”
Jacko had a number of data crawlers monitoring and mining the internet and any number of databases for new information pertaining to people or subjects the club had an interest in. His most recent spiders were for Rachel and Abby Sloane.
Zep curled his hands into fists. “What kind of hit?” he growled.
“Rachel was just admitted via ambulance to Ballina District Hospital. I’ve got no reports of accidents or assaults that line up.”
An invisible band of steel tightened around his chest. How was it possible this woman could still affect him? “Anything from Brodie?”
“Nothing,” Connor replied. “But he’s watching Isobel’s man, not the women.”
“Maybe coincidence?” Jacko was still standing in the doorway.
“Maybe Isobel did send backup.” Connor’s tone was flat.
Zep thumped his fist into the makeshift table, then stood, knocking the chair to the floor. “Jacko, see what else you can find out.”
“Right.” He strode purposely from the room.
“Get on the phone to Mick and Dodge, find out what the hell is taking them so long to get there.” Zep spat the instruction to Connor.
“And what are you going to do?”
A red haze descended from his scalp into his brain. Blood rushed between his ears as he rounded on Connor. “Who the fuck do you think you’re speaking to?”
He stepped closer, towering over Connor. The rational part of his mind was drowned out by a torrent of emotions, his heart pounding against his chest like a drum. Every word Connor had spoken about Rachel and Abby felt like an accusation.
Connor stood, his eyes dancing with anger. “Hell if I know. You sit here staring at the ocean while you send the boys to watch out for your old lady and kid.”
White, hot rage clouded Zep’s vision. “You’re on thin ice.”
“And you’re looking for a fight. Giving yourself one more reason not to go and sort this mess out yourself.” Connor lifted his chin, his face inches from Zep’s.
Zep flexed his hands, more than ready to take a swing. “You’ve got some nerve, cunt.”
“If Morgan was still alive, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight. I’d wait with a fucking shotgun for the dogs who threatened my woman to show up and I’d blow their fucken’ brains out. I’d gut them like pigs. I sure as shit wouldn’t sit back and hope the problem goes away.” Connor’s eyes bulged, his face contorted.
Zep raised a fist.
“That’s enough!” Sonny shouted as he and Tosh burst into the shed.
Tosh got in Connor’s face, pushing him backwards. “Walk away, Connor.”
“I oughta gut you like a pig, you fucken’ cunt.” Zep lunged at Connor.
“Hey, Zep, cool down.” Sonny stood in front of Zep, his voice a mix of authority and concern. “This isn't the way.”
