Gunner was dying. He had a serious case of constant blue balls, and it was only gonna get worse if he kept sharing a house with Kelly. Kelly and her tight skirts and blouses that made her look like a sexy librarian or some shit. Kelly who wore pumps with low heels, even though she wasn’t in some office somewhere – she was just walking around the house. Making dinner or watering the plants or checking her phone… He could hear her coming a mile away just by the sound of those heels on the hardwood floors. And he got hard each time he heard the sound.
Sometimes she went barefoot. She had these small, perfect, elegant feet. Toenail polish that was, like, some kind of light purple. Lavender? Whatever it was, it was flawless, never a chip in it.
And God, sharing a bed with her … it was torture. He’d lie there sometimes after she’d gone to sleep, erection tenting the covers, fantasizing that she’d suddenly wake up reach for him. Tell him she’d been dying to fuck him for weeks. Sometimes he’d get up, go to the downstairs bathroom — so there was no chance of her hearing him — and jerk off to the fantasy.
It didn’t help that the rest of his life was all up in the air too. Every club meeting, there seemed to be more and more tension among the Horned Devils. Some of Powers’ contacts across the border had proven useful, and the club’s bottom line had increased significantly. But no one was happy. Powers cast a long shadow, and he’d started sending his men on ride-alongs with the Horned Devils. Chevy had been particularly pissed about that, but since Silverback hadn’t objected, he’d kept his mouth shut too.
The brotherhood was nervous, and Gunner wasn’t sure what to do for them. At the auto shop, Durango was often quiet, his usual spark gone. There was no more talk of riding up to Three Sisters. The only one who really seemed okay with the whole situation was Mica, who was getting to go on more and more missions despite his inexperience. He was thrilled about the increased profits, and openly sneered at the others when they expressed doubt over whether it was all worth it.
When Gunner stepped into the clubhouse for Thursday night’s meeting, relieved for the chance to get out of the house, where Kelly was walking around in a particularly tight pencil skirt, he nearly did a double take.
Russell Powers was sitting in Silverback’s usually chair, surrounded by goons. A few of the horned Devils were hanging around the walls, looking uneasy, not sure where they should sit.
Russell met Gunner’s gaze and smiled. “Ah, Cam. Good to see you. It’s been a while.”
Gunner glowered at Russell Powers. He couldn’t stand this fake chummy shit Powers pulled. He continued to stare at Russell, who finally looked away, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Where is everyone? This is a rather … important meeting.”
Silverback leaned against the wall, looking older and more haggard than Gunner had ever seen him. “They’ll be here. We don’t usually have a set time for meetings. Just whenever people can get here.”
Russell checked his expensive watch. “I don’t have a lot of time this evening,” he said imperiously.”
“Too bad,” Chevy muttered.
Russell ignored him, though Gunner thought he saw the man’s jaw twitch. “I suppose we can get started. Do fill your absentbrothers in later.” He said the word “brothers” with a slight sneer.
Russell leaned back, hands on his knees. Yeah, this guy had read all the self-help books about how to take up space in a room and assume a “CEO stance” and whatever the fuck. He just looked like a pathetic douche. For the thousandth time, Gunner cursed himself for going along with the guy. For not knowing his own fucking enemy. For not knowing how far Powers’ reach extended, how many men he had at his disposal.
If we cut the head off the beast, does it grow a new one? Or does the body flop around and eventually die?
Powers straightened one pant leg. “I have a large stash coming in. The first part arrives tomorrow. It’s only a fraction of the total goods. Some of you will go pick it up. If all goes well, you’ll accompany my men when they pick up the much larger haul in a couple of weeks.” He glanced around the room, finger under his chin as though giving this deep consideration. “You.” He pointed at Mica. “You’ll go.”
Mica preened little.
You little fucker, Gunner thought.Have you forgotten that he fucking shot you?
“And you two.” Russell indicated Chevy and Hap, another club member.
Chevy glared at Powers. “I got club business to take care of here tomorrow. I ain’t going riding.”
“Oh my. I’m so sorry to hear that.” Russell didn’t sound sorry at all. “Unfortunately, you’ll have to put all that on hold. Any ‘club business’ is now my business, you understand. And this shipment takes precedence.”
Chevy’s jaw literally dropped. He turned to Silverback. “Boss?” He said the word pointedly, emphasizing to Russell that he still considered Silverback his leader. Or challenging Silverback to actuallybe a boss and stand up to the fucker.
Silverback’s expression remained stoic.