Chapter 18

The RPGs are safely stored awayin the back of Viper"s cage while Marni is safe and sound inside the shipping container. I gave her some snacks from the glove compartment and a blanket. She's as pissed off as a cat in a bathtub, but she'll get over it. Showing up at Michaelov's drop with a teenage girl would not go over well and we don't need some strange girl knowing our business. I already have enough to deal with trying to find the fucking rat in our club.

We won"t have to travel far to reach Michaelov"s meet-up location, so we should arrive quickly, provided there are no mishaps. The sudden vibration of my phone on the dash pulls my attention. Swiftly grabbing and unlocking it, anticipation fills me.

Iggie- Missed you when I woke up. Everything okay?

Me- Everything's fine, just had to deal with some club stuff. Did you see my note?

Iggie- Yeah. I also saw you added the club's name to my charity tree paper.

Me- No one from your work signed up. So me and a few brothers will help. You don't need to do it alone.

Iggie- Okay

Me- I'll text you when I'm back

Iggie- I miss you

Me- Same

I slidethe phone back onto the dash and scold myself for texting while driving. I need to pay attention to our run. That man has me feeling all tangled up inside. It would be easier if he lived with me, then I wouldn't have to constantly wonder and worry about where he was. Maybe I can get him to wear a tracker, like a necklace or bracelet or something similar. Then I wouldn't worry as much about him and jump as soon as his name lights up my phone.

When we pull into the church"s parking lot, it's almost deserted, and Michaelov is already there. With a cigar in hand, he leans against his vehicle, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. Viper parks his truck next to the SUV and immediately jumps out.

Following suit, I slam my gearshift into park and get out, the gravel crunching beneath my boots as I head toward Michaelov.

"No issues this time, I see." Michaelov blows smoke in my direction.

"We're here, ain't we? Now let's get this over with. I got shit to do," I snap.

Michaelov drops his cigar on the ground, rubbing it out with his loafer. "Don't push me, Steel. I've had enough of your fuck ups and attitude."

"If you want to keep gettin' your weapons dirt cheap and my valued discretion, you'll take my shitty attitude and let me handle my club."

"Let's see what you brought today and I'll make my decision." Michaelov sighs. I nod to Viper, giving him the okay to haul them out of his cage.

He moves two wooden crates, shaped like short rectangles, and carefully positions them on the tailgate. With a flick of my knife, I pry the lids off and expose the RPGs inside. "We good?" I look at Michaelov.

"We're good." He pulls his cell from his slacks and my phone dings. I see the confirmation that he has transferred the funds to our club account.

"A real delight, as usual, Michaelov. If you need anything else, speak to me directly. I'll be in touch." I twirl my finger in a circle so my men know we're done here and they're clear to get back in their cages and head home.

I need to make a stop back at the shipping container and pick up my stowaway.

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