Affliction
Page 11“Let me know how you go.” I nod, knowing whoever I choose, the boys will trust my decision. “Anyone have anything else?” Nix moves on, asking the table.
“Received a call from Tiny yesterday.” Beau taps the table as he speaks. Last month, the club owed a marker to an old friend of Red’s. We transported a mother and child to a safe house, kept her guarded until they could arrange her documents, and then escorted her on to the next point. Seeing her so severely beaten and her kid so fucking scared messed with most of us. Fucker got away with it, but at least we were able to get the woman and her son out.
“What’s he want?” Nix asks, his attention grabbed.
“Wants us on board to help out with this underground gig.”
“You know we’re juggling a full plate right now?” Brooks asks, always the voice of reason.
“I know what we have on our plate right now, but when shit calms down, I want in,” Beau says, his voice absolute.
“What we looking at?” I ask, wondering how we could work it.
“We start off small; pickups, drop offs, and if there are any recoveries. Tiny wants to hang his hat up so if we vote on it, I want to do it with the intention of taking over.”
“Jesus, Beau. You go from not wanting to do this shit, to wanting to run it?” Jesse asks, shaking his head.
“Okay, you can have it, but only after this shit with Gunner is sorted,” Nix agrees.
“We’re voting on this then?” Beau replies, shocked at his answer.
“You all want in?” Nix asks the table, making it legit. I know this is something Beau wants, and coming from a family whose father beat his mother, I’d vote anyway. The table echoes with “yeahs” as Nix calls it as agreed.
“This is on you, Beau. We’ll help where we can, but we go in clean and come out clean, got it?” Nix warns.
“Only way to do it,” Beau replies, a small smile on his face.
“Right, well that’s about it. Anyone else?” Nix asks one last time, but just like me, everyone seems ready to call it and be done. “Remember, keep our eyes open and any news of fuckin’ Gunner or Edwards, we move.” We all nod, agreeing with what needs to be done. Standing, I follow my brothers back out to the main room of the clubhouse.
“Sy, I’m heading to the gym, ten minutes. You in?” Jesse asks, walking past me to his room.
“Not today,” I say, not in the mood for his fucking chirpy mood.
“You all right, Sy?’ Nix asks, coming up once everyone has cleared out.
“Perfect,” I tell him and regret the choice of word. He smirks, shaking his head.
“Brace, brother, it’s only gonna get worse,” he says, slapping on my back and chuckling to himself.
I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, and I don’t want to know how he knows about the shit I’m dealing with. All I need to do is get this fucking woman out of my head and all will be back to normal. Right?
I fucking hope so.
CHAPTER SIX
Holly
“Who is that man?” Sarah asks from behind me as I turn to lock up for the day.
“That one.” She points over the parking lot to a man waiting on his bike. Shit, Sy. His head comes up at our voices, but his eyes are hidden behind his glasses so I can’t see his reaction. I scan his body and zone in on his tattooed arms. They’re crossed at his chest. Anyone walking past would double take at the dark, and broody man sitting there, but not me. No, I’m forcing myself to not look back.
“Not sure,” I reply, checking the lock one last time before turning away. I don’t need to see him tonight—not after working all day.
“Damn, he is fine,” she continues, checking him out. “I wonder what he looks like under all that leather.” She runs her eyes down his covered body. Yeah, if only I knew. I’ve had the man inside of me and I have no idea what’s under that. How depressing. Especially when the man is on my shit list. I don’t even know what he is doing here. Last time I saw him was when I was threatening him with bodily harm and stormed out of his shop.
“He’s all right, if you like the biker type.” I push our hot sex out of my head and brush off his hotness. “I have to run. See you tomorrow.” I wave and start the short walk home.
“You want a lift?” she asks, but I decline; the fresh air is great after working long hours.
“No, I’m good,” I smile, and wave her off. I don’t look back and don’t make eye contact with Sy as I pass him.
“You aren’t going to say hi?” he calls out, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. I can’t react. I’m still pissed about last week. Instead, I pick up my pace and hope he gives up. His bike starts up; the rumble of the pipes vibrating in the still, early evening. He roars past me and I ignore the feeling of frustration that he’s gone. I don’t know why it bothers me. He’s done nothing but be a dick since the first day I met him at the tattoo shop. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, but I’m not that bad. Turning the corner to my street, I regret the disappointment from a few moments ago when I see his bike parked out the front of my apartment building. Great.