nineteen
“So your sister ditched you.”
When he put it like that, it sounded so much worse. “She said it was important,” Angel explained—again—but she could tell Moose wasn’t buying it. Hell, she wasn’t either. Rena had been shifty-eyed after she’d hung up the phone and said she had to run because of some appointment she’d forgotten about.
On a Saturday.
After noon.
Angel wasn’t abreast of every business’ practices in town, but she was pretty certain that most if not all doctors’ offices, aside from the one and only urgent care, were closed on the weekend. Still, she didn’t say anything, instead allowing her sister to run off. She was probably getting herself into more trouble, but at this point, it was par for the course. At least they had spent some quality time together for once. Angel had fun talking guys and life and shooting the breeze with the only person in the world she shared common history. Though her sister might be a total mess, she was the only one in the world she trusted without reservation.
Kade made a sound in the back of his throat that said he wholly disagreed, and Angel didn’t try to argue. She knew he was right. They both did. He’d seen and heard enough during their late-night talks to know, and he wasn’t dumb either.
“Well the next time she pulls something like that, give me a call, and I’ll come right over,” he said, the innuendo so thinly veiled, Angel could see right through it.
Voice turning husky, she answered, “Why do you think I’m calling now?”
A low, deep growl rumbled through the phone. “I wish I could, Mouse, but Quick and the guys just rolled in. We got church in five.”
“Oh.” She knew better than to ask what they were having a meeting about. She just hoped it wasn’t anything serious. The idea of Kade being in the midst of anything dangerous struck a note of fear in her that she didn’t like or dare to look too closely at. That cord attaching her to him seemed to be growing thicker and stronger every day, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. Every time he climbed into her bed and slid inside her, she felt her bond to him increase, the need to claim him as her man gripping like a fist in her chest, her every breath directly linked to his.
Did he feel the same about her? Is that why he’d decided that their trial basis was over and she was officially his? For some reason, his claim on her felt significant, much more than just an act of ownership. It felt real, tangible. Permanent.
Angel couldn’t explain it, but the moment he’d said that she could no longer envision a future without him in it. And that was the single most terrifying thing she could ever imagine, outside of ending up pregnant and single.
Crazy how a single action like deciding to date a biker could end up reshaping everything she’d planned for her future. Instead of looking out for only herself with zero intention of settling down with any one man, she was now looking forward to the days ahead shared with a man she was tumbling down the rabbit hole for.
“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Kade said with a soft laugh. “I’ll be by later, once I take care of things here.”
“Is that a promise?” she asked hopefully.
“Depends how things go in church. I’ll text you later to let you know for sure.”
“All right. I’m grilling ribs tonight, so if you can make it in time for dinner, I’ll save you a plate.”
“My kind of woman,” he said roughly, causing Angel to grin. “Bye, Mouse.”
“Bye, baby.”
After they hung up, Angel put away all of her clean clothes then loaded a bucket with cleaning supplies and worked her way from the back of the apartment to the front, shaking her head as she went from room to room, wondering how in the hell so much dirt managed to accumulate in a week with only two people living there, one of which was hardly ever around.
Once the apartment was clean, she hopped into the shower to wash, then she got started on making the rub for the rack of ribs she planned to cook later. Kade might not make it in time for dinner, but she knew he would be there one way or another because he always followed through. In many ways, he was someone she could count on too—predictable. With him on her mind, she put together the best dinner she could manage, because as her mother always used to say, the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.
Was that what she was trying to do, get to his heart? She wasn’t certain, but a part of her sure felt like that’s where she wanted to be.
***
Church had been interesting. As Moose rolled up beside Quick’s bike and put down the kickstand, he was both a little irritated he’d been left behind to warm the bench like a rookie football player who hadn’t made first string and proud of his brothers for standing up to the plate, ready to swing a home run.
So the great and powerful Contreras hadn’t folded, but he had shown his cards to an extent. Yes, he was most definitely doing some shady dealings behind closed doors, and their best guess was that his connection to the cartel had only deepened, bringing the head of the Mexican cartel right to their doorstep.
That wasn’t going to be good for anyone.
The good news was that Contreras had left the door open for talks with the Spartans, which had Quick hopeful that it meant he was willing to negotiate. If he was, then they could avoid another bloody showdown like the one they’d had with the previous leader, Luciana, whom Contreras had answered to, like a little whipping boy on puppet strings.
Turned out homeboy had a nose for business, though, and had ruthlessly taken over as the head of operations. But he hadn’t made waves like they all thought he would, and this recent development gave them all hope that something could be resolved.
Maybe they could make him see reason and he’d either leave town or move his business elsewhere. Moose had a few ideas on how to make that happen. He clenched his fists open and closed as he and his brothers filed into the local bar, feeling the familiar ache to put his hands to good use. Personally, he would love to put a few marks on that smug bastard, Contreras. Purple and blue would go great with his olive skin tone.
Quick led the way to a table in the back big enough to accommodate everyone. As soon as they sat down, a pretty young waitress came by to take their order of two pitchers of beer and to keep ‘em coming. After the talk they’d had, taking the edge off was in order. Sometimes, the stress around the table got to a person, and the only way they had to calm the nerves was with a little alcoholic beverage.
“Tonight, I’m going to put in a call with Cruiz,” Quick said, his words like a bomb being dropped in the middle of the table.
Everyone stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. The man was shouldering some serious baggage, and like the rest of them, he was eager to unload.
“You think that’s wise?” Moose asked while visually assessing his friend for any sign of sudden onset psychosis. Was that a thing? He thought it might be a thing…
“I think he gave us an offer we can’t refuse.”
“You sound like the Godfather.”
Blake smirked. “Gotta think like one to deal with one, right?”
“I don’t think we wanna be goin’ down that road,” Repo said wisely, and they all agreed with a nod.
“Me either. But I’ve been turning it over in my mind all day, and I think Cruiz was saying somethin’ when he made that offer; otherwise, why make it at all? In fact, why not have us thrown out on our asses the moment we walked in?”
“Or shoot us on sight,” Taco added.
“Exactly. So I think making a call is our best bet. See where his head is at.”
“You think he’s in over his head with that Mafioso looking dude and is looking for a solution?” Taco asked.
“Or he’s setting up an ambush,” Wayne suggested.
“That was just what I was thinking, Scarlet,” Moose said with a smirk. With a nickname like that, he couldn’t not use it whenever the opportunity presented itself. Wayne gave him the side eye, suggesting he didn’t agree. Whatever. The kid would ease into it eventually.
“So we’re in agreement,” Quick stated, glancing at each of them.
“As long as I’m not left behind with my thumb up my ass again,” Moose groused.
“You had your thumb up your asshole? Dude.” Country scrunched his features. Moose shook his head and poured himself a drink. The man was forever cracking jokes.
“What about the women and kids?” Taco asked, clearly thinking of his own little family who he’d been working diligently at expanding. He and Bambi were like a couple of rabbits, giving Blake and Gabby a run for their baby-making money. “We can’t all run off and leave them without protection. And I know we have prospects on hand, but who here really trusts a handful of rookies with the safety of their family, especially if something like what happened last time repeated itself.”
“You have a point,” Blake agreed, scratching his grizzled cheek thoughtfully. “We’ll have a sit-down and draw straws. This is all assuming Contreras agrees to a meet ’n greet. Either way, we do this smart or not at all.”
“Or we let Country go Rambo with his military contacts and turn Contreras’s mansion into a burned-out crater,” Repo suggested.
“I’m game for that,” Country piped in eagerly, always the first to be ready to blow shit up. The man was a military hero, knew all about covert missions and weaponry the likes of which most of them had never seen beyond a Gun Digest magazine.
“Hold off till we know what we’re looking at,” Quick told him, then swigged some of his beer. The man was wound tighter than a kid’s music box, tension evident in how tight he held his mug all the way to the set of his lips as he slapped it back onto the table.
Times like this, Moose was glad he hadn’t gone and gotten a girl knocked up. Most days, it was an okay life to raise a kid up in, but those off days were the kind of nightmares that made a man say no fuckin’ way, and there was no telling what corner those days were lurking behind.
After the seriousness of the day passed, the guys got into lighter talks, making wisecracks and ribbing each other over bullshit that didn’t even make sense half the time. None of them got wasted, but they all had a good buzz going by the time trouble walked through the door.
They hadn’t been expecting it—couldn’t have predicted it if they’d tired. And the most surprised person at the table was Moose, who was wondering how in the fuck he was going to explain this one to Mouse.
Sauntering toward a booth as if they’d done it a thousand times was Rena…with Manuel Contreras’s grubby hand resting on the small of her back, guiding the way, while two of his henchmen flanked him, keeping an eye out for problems.
Well, problem was Moose’s middle name. Just so happened it was each of his brothers’ middle names too. And their hackles were all standing on end, their mouths frothing to take a chomp out of his hide.
But Quick wasn’t about to let his pack step out of line. Not now, especially not in a public bar, and especially not when he was attempting to do things diplomatically.
“Does your girlfriend know her sister is sleeping with the devil?” someone asked, but Moose’s vision was filled with red and narrowed to a pinpoint focus, so he had no idea who he was addressing when he replied with a, “Not yet, but she’s about to find out.”
Then he took out his phone and snapped a few pictures. Evidence. When he confronted that lying little wench, he wanted proof to back him up. He wanted to look her in the eyes when she tried to lie her way out of this one. Angel said her sister had a way of always getting herself into trouble, but Moose just hadn’t realized how deep she would go.
This was new ground. A delicate situation that could blow up in their faces fast if they didn’t handle it properly. If talks with Contreras didn’t go well, if they pushed the wrong button on his hair-trigger temper, no doubt Contreras would use Rena as a bargaining chip.
As much of a problem as she’d been, Moose had no doubt that Angel loved her sister fiercely. If anything happened to her because of them, she’d never forgive him. She’d always blame him for her sister getting caught in the cross fire.
Moose turned his head, catching his president’s eye. “This changes everything.”