Chapter 17

I hate to leave Iggie,but I have to head back to the clubhouse and get some shit done. The order for Michaelov has come in and we're meeting to give him the RPG 18s. I also want to talk with my officers about Pepper and Combo because their defiance and disrespect in church last time was unacceptable. Initially, I let them off with only toilet duty since I was eager to be with my man, but now I"m livid about my decision.

I told the whores to cut them off, and I have Hawk looking into them more. Their comings and goings, spending, and phone records are under investigation. If either is our leak, we'll know, and they'll get exactly what's coming to them.

I gradually ease myself out of bed and gently pull the blanket back up to cover Iggie. Leaning down, I plant a kiss on his temple. I quickly slip back into my clothes and make my way to his kitchen, searching for a pen and paper to leave him a note. It"s no surprise that Iggie has a notepad and pen on his island. I grab it and flip to the next empty page.

Iggie,

I had to go do some club stuff. I'll text you when I'm back and you can come to the clubhouse if you want. Sorry, I didn't wake you. It was early, and you looked sexy as hell sleeping.

Steel

I ripthe page from the pad and set it on the counter where he'll see it. Putting everything back how I found it, I see the page in front of the one I just ripped out is the information on the family Iggie had his work adopt. The line for volunteers to help decorate and deliver the tree is empty. He's circled the space a few times and doodled a sad face.

How fucking dare none of the hundreds of employees at Howards sign up to help him for a few hours on two different days. It would take like an hour to decorate the tree and less than that to deliver it. No way is he going to do it on his own. Maybe a few of the brothers and I can show up and help him.

I pull out my phone and search for when and where this tree thing is taking place. Decorating is tomorrow night at seven at the community center. Then Sunday morning is delivery. We can make that work; I quickly jot the club"s name down.

Making sure to lock up behind me, I jog to my cage. Not bothering to buckle up, I crank the ignition, and as soon as she starts, I hit the gas. I'm on a roll breaking traffic laws this morning.

I successfully reach the clubhouse without getting a ticket or having an accident. I park by the entrance and make my way inside. Everyone is still passed out from the night before, which is perfect since this is a need-to-know run. Making my way to the office, I lock the door before taking a seat. I need to call my officers. I know I can trust them, so they"re the only ones going on this run.

One by one, I let them know to get their asses to my office right now. I may have woken a few of them up, but that"s their issue. Remembering I locked the door out of habit, I begin to stand, only to hear a key in the lock.

Pistol's here, and he's the only one I trust with a key to my office. He flings the door open and glares at me. "This better be good, asshole. I was sound asleep. You know it's seven in the mornin', right?"

"You're lucky you've been my best friend since we were in diapers or I'd shoot you for the way you talk to me," I tell him, rolling my eyes at his dramatics. He's always enjoyed his beauty sleep.

"Fuck you. You'd miss me too much. Plus, I wouldn't look good with a bullet hole in my skull." He sits in the seat next to mine and pulls his phone out, typing something before he puts it back in his pocket.

Hawk and Trucker stumble in next, their clothes wrinkled and half-buttoned. My guess is they spent the night together again sharing Gabe. I swear, the three of them are going to press the "no turning whores into old men" rule someday.

"What's up, Prez?" Trucker asks as he shuts the door behind them before bending down to fix his boot.

"When everyone gets here, I'll tell ya. Then I don't have to repeat myself."

Zero bursts into the room, forcefully pushing Viper inside, and slams the door shut with a resounding thud.

"What the hell are you two doin'?" I growl. Zero not only slammed the door, potentially waking everyone up, but he also must have a death wish to be messing with Viper.

"I found this asshole passed out in the hall outside my door. I don't know what the fuck he was doin', but I don't think he slept much." Zero sighs.

Looking at Viper, I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Zero. I wasn't spyin' on you. Combo is in the room across from yours and is up to no good. I don't know what it is yet, but I'll figure it out." Viper cracks his knuckles, glaring at Zero.

"Alright, but at least warn a guy next time. I about ate shit trippin' over your huge ass in the hall. You'd make a shitty spy, so it's a good thing you're a psycho killer."

"Didn't mean to fall asleep. And fuck you, I'm not a killer. I'm an artist. Do you know how difficult it is to cause maximum pain without immediate death? Or how to hurt them so they scream so pretty? That's art, fucker," Viper says through clenched teeth.

"Alright, knock it off." I stand from my chair so they know I'm fucking serious. "I called you here for a reason. Michaelov's RPGs are in and we're gonna go pick them up and deliver them to him. Just us. No one else knows."

"When do we leave?" Trucker asks.

"Right now. We can stop and get some grub on the way."

Nodding their heads, I reach into a drawer and retrieve walkie-talkies, ensuring each one is in working order.

I round my desk and open the door, holding it for them and handing them one as they pass me.

We make it outside to our cages and onto the road in minutes. Snow covers the ground, taking away the option of having anyone on bikes, which I hope isn't an omen of something bad to come. I can't wait for winter to be over so we can ride our bikes full-time again.

"Listen up," I speak into the walkie-talkie, my voice crackling through the static. "We"re about to reach a diner up ahead. Let"s pull in for a quick bite."

Static fills the air for a moment before the familiar voice of Trucker comes through. "Copy that, boss."

Pulling into the Farmstand Diner, we head toward a booth in the back. I wanna be able to see everything and everyone who comes and goes from this place. Hell, I wanna be able to see who drives past. I can't wait to get some food in my stomach. Last night, I worked up an appetite.

This place is a ways out of town and we've made good time so far, so I feel comfortable stopping. We should still make it to the pickup point with time to spare.

A sweet and timid server approaches us, carrying a pot of hot coffee. I quickly notice her hand trembling as she pours. My eyes shift across the table to Pistol, and he's arching an eyebrow in her direction. As she fills my cup, I gently place my hand on top of hers, causing her to gasp and lock eyes with me. "You alright there, baby girl? You"re shakin' like a washin' machine on the spin cycle."

"Yeah. Ummm, I"m fine," she says with a slight tremor.

"Are you sure?" Pistol interjects, raising a brow at her. "We can help you if you're being hurt or someone is here who shouldn't be."

She tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, gives us a small smile, and heads back to the kitchen.

"That was weird," I tell the guys, dumping some creamer in my coffee.

"Maybe she was just nervous ‘cause six scary bikers just walked into a mom-and-pop shop." Trucker shrugs.

"I don't know. This place is on the highway, so you'd think she'd be used to getting all kinds of people in here. Just stay alert," I tell them.

The waitress comes back and this time I look at her nametag; Marni. As she reaches into her apron, she pulls out her pad and gives us a tight-lipped smile. "W-w-what can I g-g-get for you?"

"Marni is it?" She jumps when I say her name, quickly turning to look at the window to the kitchen before turning back to us.

"Yeah," she nods.

"Cut the shit. Somethin' ain't right, and if shit"s about to go down, let us at least get these people out of here. What do you know?"

"Nothing. I don't know anything. My foster dad's brother is the cook here. He begged my foster dad to make me work here. He's not a good man. I'll be eighteen in two weeks, and then I'm out of here." She rattles off while pretending to write on her order pad.

"What's that got to do with us?"

"Randy has been trying to get in with the Hellhounds MC and, well, when you guys walked in, he called someone and told them you were here. Then told me to keep you here no matter what it took." She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Okay, go back to the kitchen and give him that pad with whatever shit you wrote on it as our order. See if you can get an ETA and tell that piece of shit you need to take the garbage out or a smoke break or whatever and meet us in the parkin' lot. Can you do that, girl?"

"Yeah. B-but are you gonna hurt me? I swear I didn't know. I'm just trying to survive until I can leave. My foster parents are shit." She looks like she's on the verge of tears.

"We ain't gonna hurt you, girl. Now get a move on," Pistol growls.

Hurriedly, Marni makes her way through the kitchen door, and we slowly stand and exit the diner. Back in our cages, we hit the gas and I wave my brothers out of the lot back onto the road. We need to get the fuck out of here before the Hellhounds show up. I'm not having a shootout at a diner filled with innocent people. We can come back later to deal with the cook.

I idle by the back door, waiting for her as I promised. Marni bursts into the lot through the diner"s back door, her eyes wide and chest heaving.

"Get in," I call to her.

"What?"

"Do you want out? Get your ass in the truck. I promise I ain't gonna hurt you, but we gotta get the hell out of here, girl. Get in or wait another two weeks. This is your out." I have no clue why I'm trying to get this underage girl in my truck, but what's done is done. I know what it's like to have shitty parents. If her uncle is as bad as she made him seem, she"ll face consequences when he finds us gone.

She forcefully rips open my passenger door and jumps in, slamming it shut as I press down on the accelerator.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"How long till the Hellhounds arrive?" I ask, so I know how much of a head start we have.

"Randy told me I only had to keep you occupied for another twenty minutes. He suggested offering to suck one of your dicks to keep you there." I see her staring at me from the corner of my eye.

"You're jailbait, girl. And you ain't my type. I'm a taken man." I pick up the walkie-talkie I left in the cup holder and radio the guys. "It's early, so I gotta assume those bastards were all at their clubhouse, which means we won't be runnin' into them on the road. Marni here says they were still twenty or so minutes out."

"What do you mean, Marni here?" Pistol barks. "Tell me you didn't kidnap a child and bring her with us."

"It's not kidnappin' if she's willin'. I'm not gonna leave some little girl back there to take the fall when they figure out we're not in the booth."

"So you're bringin' a strange girl to our business?" he asks, and I can hear the annoyance in his tone.

"No. We're gonna leave her at the container and circle back for her. Then she can tell us what she wants to do." I give her a half smile as she raises her eyebrows.

"You're a moron," Pistol grunts.

"And you're still my VP. So we do what I say or you can be on shitter duty with the other two cunts who wanted to talk to me like that. You may be my oldest friend, Pistol, but don't mistake that as a free pass for disrespect."

It's radio silent and I know Pistol is aware he stepped out of line. He'll apologize later once he's done being in his feelings.

"What do you mean, drop me off at the container? Just leave me at a bus stop, and I'll be okay." Marni tilts her head and crosses her arms over her chest.

What is with people thinking they can talk to me in any sort of way lately? Fuck me.

"I have some business to tend to and you can't come. I'll leave you there and pick you up when I'm done. Then you can come back to the clubhouse and hide out till you"re eighteen and do what you want."

"No. No way. I've never been to a biker house or whatever you call it, but I've heard Randy talk about it enough. I'm not gonna come stay at your club and be some club slut. Fuck that." She bares her teeth at me and I chuckle at such a tiny thing yelling at me. Reminds me of a chihuahua trying to fight a rottweiler.

"It's club whore, first of all, and I have no plans of you becomin' one. You're still underage, so if you stay at the clubhouse for two weeks, you'll be under my protection. When your birthday hits, you can do what you want. You'll be a legal adult. I'll help you any way I can."

"Why? Why help me? You don't even know me," she asks.

"Because I can help and you could have kept your mouth shut back there and let us and the innocent guests get hurt. Instead, you put your ass on the line and told us the truth. So consider this my payback. Now, shut up. I need to make sure this shit stays on plan."