“Where’s everybody at?” I call out through the unusually empty clubhouse, hoping for a quick meeting if the MC executives are around. It’s strange to see the place this quiet, even for a weeknight. Molly carries her duffel bag to one of the wooden benches near the main entrance and takes a seat. She looks tired as hell. She has to work a shift tonight. There’s not enough time for her to relax.

I catch sight of three sack demons hanging out around one of the tables near the bar. They look up from the card game they’re playing. Two of them flash me a flirtatious grin and try to wave me over. I quickly glance over my shoulder at Molly to see her reaction.

She doesn’t react.

Not even a little.

And that bugs me for the first time in well, ever.

I can’t figure out why, but as I have a habit of overthinking irrelevant shit. Bolting past the three groupies, I step around the bar and get myself a nice size shot of whiskey. I start to pour one for Molly and hear heavy footsteps before noticing Silas coming down the stairs. Finding a third glass under the counter, I fill it up.

“Rough day at the office?” he asks and steps up to his drink.

“Not bad. We got an internal issue though. I could use a short meeting to give everyone the details.”

Before he can answer, the rest of the MC executive show up from different parts of the clubhouse. Axe and Cole come in from the main floor hallway, and Dean, our top potential candidate for Road Captain, walks in from outside through a side door. They each nod over at Molly, who doesn’t move from her spot on the bench. Which is all kinds of strange because all the other times she’s visited, she made herself at home. I shake my head. There isn’t a goddamn thing that’s normal about this evening.

“What’s going on, brother?” Silas asks as Cole, Axe, and Dean join us at the bar.

I pour a few more drinks. “There’s a member of another Satan’s Saints chapter who’s been out of line and needs schooling,” I say, then turn to Silas. “Did Sabrina fill you in?”

“Yeah. I know about the original request, but I didn’t hear anything about another chapter.”

“That’s because I didn’t mention it to Sabrina,” Molly confirms, stepping forward toward us.

“It’s Jett Williams,” I say to the boys. “Louisiana Chapter. The idiot’s gone off the rails.”

Silas glances at Molly. “We’ll take care of it. No need to worry.” He turns to Dean. “Get the story on Williams from someone on the Louisiana Chapter’s executive.”

Dean finishes his drink in one gulp and leaves in the direction of our main floor meeting room.

“In the meantime, Molly’s going to be staying here,” I add and offer the rest of them another round.

“Anytime. You’re really into this job you landed thanks to me, aren’t you?” Silas asks.

I smile a little, just enough for him alone to see. “It’s a tough one, but someone’s gotta do it.”

“I fucking bet.”

Axe slides his empty glass to me, motioning for a refill. “It’s been a while since we had a formal meeting,” he mentions and leans forward to look over at Silas. “How’s business overall, Pres?”

“Good. Better than good. It’s been word of mouth all the way. Specifically, Jordan Bain’s mouth. The guy’s an evangelist for our MC.”

“He’s a badass,” I agree distractedly. Molly has her eye on the main entrance. A quick check of the clock tells me I’ve got more than enough time to get her to work. Unless there’s another reason she’s eyeing the door.

“He is,” Silas answers. “But I hope you know I don’t believe you give a fuck about how much Jordan’s doing for the business. Not with the way you’re watching your new assignment like a hawk.” I glare at Silas, my fingers tightening around my glass, and our Pres flashes me a wide grin. “Seriously. Not subtle.”

“Yeah, well I have my reasons.”

“And I have more business than just a stalker problem to deal with.” Silas puts his fingers in between his lips and whistles loud enough to fuck up everyone’s eardrums. The few members and sack demons around look over at him. Molly takes a seat at one of the nearby tables. “Big announcement, everybody.” Silas runs a hand through his hair as he waits. It takes less than a minute later for the room to fill up. Members come in from every direction. It’s standing room only as people settle into every available seat, bar stool, and bench to listen.

“All right, listen up. I had a talk with the Los Diablos MC president today. Vasquez is ready to have a sit down about a truce with us. Cole and I think it’s time, so that’s gonna happen in the next couple of days. We weren’t all expecting this to happen, but it’s time. What I’m saying it we’ll roll with it and hear them out.”

Axe, our Sergeant at Arms, shakes his head but starts clapping. He isn’t convinced.

Cole, our Vice President, seems more open to it as he nods. He takes a drag of his lit cigarette. “It’s worth a meeting. Even if it’s too good to be true.”

His wife, Jenny, comes through the crowd and stands beside him. She doesn’t have a vote, but she seems supportive. She also doesn’t seem to mind it when he uses his free hand to smack her ass as Silas waits to hear from more of the members.

Axe gets off the bar stool and takes a seat at the empty table close to us, kicking his feet up. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Both Los Diablos and the Mongols have fucked us and back-tracked on truces and deals before. I don’t trust Antonio Vasquez and I sure don’t trust Dean Roman. Those Presidents have a way of changing their minds. And let’s not forget how they sold us out when Giovanni was in the picture… Just like that dude who killed Julius Caesar.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Silas asks, probably regretful now that he opened the floor for input.

“You know, back in the Roman Empire.”

I speak up. “No, you dumb fuck. That was Brutus.”

“Whatever. I hate the name Roman, that’s all.”

“Fuck you too, asshole. You know my last name is Roman too.”

“Shit. Oh yeah. Wait, are you related to the Mongols’ president or what?” He’s done this shit before. Every fucking time Dean Roman’s name comes up, we get to this stupid crap.

“I’ll fucking cut you, dickhead.”

“Admit it. He’s probably your dirty old uncle, motherfucker,” Axe mumbles just to get a rise out of me.

I dart out from behind the counter and am rough when I grab Axe by the throat. “Do you like your fucking life right now? I’ll end you, brother. Cut the crap.”

Even as I choke the man, Axe answers with, “I hit a nerve, didn’t I?”

Cole drags me off and Silas pounds his hand on the counter to get everyone’s attention.

“The fuck? I’m in the middle of announcing something important to our members. Calm the fuck down. Both of you.”

“Fuck, all right.” I shake off Cole and straighten my cut, still angry as fuck as I return to my spot at the bar.

“Go ahead, Cole,” Silas says to his VP, making it clear that they had a one-to-one before Silas gathered everyone around. But that’s how they operate. Cole is just as much a sounding board and close friend to Silas as he is our VP.

Cole turns his bar stool to face Silas. “I’m on board for whichever direction we take. On another note, I was going to ask if you heard anything about that little contingent of Russians that showed up out of nowhere lately. They’re set up about ten minutes outside of Mesquite.”

Silas shrugs and knocks back the second drink I poured him. “No idea. They haven’t messed with us. We have to assume they’re friendlies until they do something that tells us otherwise. Bain mentioned he knows one of them. We can do some intel through him down the road, but it’s not a priority. For now, let’s prep for this sit down with the Los Diablos.”

“Fine with me,” Cole answers.

“As for Roman…” Silas turns to Axe and folds his arms. “And to be clear, Dean Roman is not to be confused with Brutus, and is not Tate’s relative in any way, shape or form.”

“Got it, Pres,” Axe says, coughing out a laugh.

“Roman will want to get in on truce talks once we get somewhere with Los Diablos. Depending on how shit pans out, when he comes around, we’ll be ready. Getting back to the topic of Los Diablos, Vasquez and I will be in touch soon. Now, most of you understand that these decisions are up to the executive. The reason I’m announcing this to everyone is this. Until that meeting goes down, no one from Satan’s Saints is to mess with any Los Diablos. And vice versa, of course. Vasquez will control his people…and it’s my job to make sure everybody on this side stays in check.”

Whispers grow to loud chatter around the vast space. Most everyone has an objection an understandably so. That’s because we all still have a taste for blood after they went below the belt and tried to blow up our fucking clubhouse then tried to take out Cindy. The only mouths not moving are Silas, Cole, and Axe. And Molly. She’s got enough on her mind.

“You know how I feel about the motherfucker,” I tell Silas through the clamor. “But if this is what you want, I’ll toe the line. I just won’t like it.”

“You’d better.” Silas drags over the whiskey bottle and takes a mouthful.

It dawns on me that I should come clean about the slash and dash I did to the Los Diablos motorcycles at that bar up the road earlier. But giving Silas the straight good in front of all the members is sure to stir up more trouble. It’ll send the wrong message to the majority of them. I don’t want to be the guy who undermines my own President, especially when he and Cole are sure to hand me my ass on a plate.

Because deferring my update on the error of my ways can make things worse. I wait for Silas to wrap up his announcement.

“So, uh, Pres,” I start when the time comes. “I think we need a quick chat.” I run a hand across my stubble jaw. “Nothing big, but you should probably know, considering the timing.”

Silas cocks an eyebrow and leans back with both hands on the bar. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Let’s go talk.”

My president’s face is stone cold as he nods over to Axe, Dean, and Cole. The five of us head over to the meeting room. Sure, I’ll admit what I did, but I’m not in the least bit sorry.

I remember Molly’s still in the crowd and look back to where she was sitting. I catch sight of her with Jenny, heading through the place toward the stairs with her duffel bag.

Yep. Molly’s safe here. Within these walls, she won’t need to worry or be constantly in fear. And she won’t need me for a damn thing.