Chapter 3

3

STONE

“ T alked to Francesco last night,” I informed Maverick as I pushed a glass of whiskey toward him.

I’d been pouring one for myself when he entered the lounge and came to sit at the bar.

Since we were alone, it was safe to discuss club business outside his office.

When I returned from New York, Fox had given me permission to make taking out the threat to Britta my number one priority. I’d been working day and night for three months to handle this shit.

Finally, we were making some headway.

“His man finally get in the right circle?” Mav asked.

I nodded before tipping my glass back and swallowing half the contents.

“The family staged it to look like Carlos took out Francesco’s number two, including his wife and kids. Darius”—who we’d discovered was working directly for the crime boss’s head of security—“took it as a sign of loyalty and introduced him to…get this…” I emptied my glass before dropping my bomb on Mav. “Portia.”

Maverick spit out the sip of whiskey he’d just taken and stared at me in complete shock. “No fucking way.”

“I couldn’t make this shit up, brother. The head of security is a fucking woman.”

Before Mav could respond, my cell phone rang. It was on the bar top to my left, so I glanced at the screen, fully intending to ignore it.

However, it was the number from the security booth at the gate. “It’s Jimmy,” I said with a frown as I picked up my phone.

“Is there a problem?” Mav asked, pulling out his phone to open the security feed from the cameras out front.

I shrugged and answered, putting it on speaker. “Stone.”

“Need you to come out to the gate. A girl here says she’s under our protection and needs help. She’s asking for you.”

“Son of a bitch,” Maverick cursed. “Fox is gonna lose his fucking mind.”

Before I could ask, he showed me the screen, and everything in me froze.

“Let her through,” Mav grunted to Jimmy since I was obviously incapable of thinking about anything except the woman with the curvy body and gorgeous blond hair.

Reality returned in a rush, and I slammed my glass on the bar top so hard it cracked. “He’s not going to keep her from me,” I seethed, feeling homicidal at the thought of losing Britta again.

“I’ll handle it. Go.”

I stalked around the bar and across the room, then into the hallway, yanking the door open so hard it crashed into the wall.

The car I’d seen on the camera was just pulling up as I exited the clubhouse, and I headed straight for it.

I was nearly there when the door swung open, and Britta came flying out, her long hair streaming behind her as she ran straight into my arms.

Holy fuck . I’d waited so long to feel her body pressed against mine. My dreams couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

The thought that there must be something wrong if she was here hung on the periphery of my mind, but I was too consumed with my desperate need for her to consider anything rational right then.

I closed my arms around her, holding her plastered against me, but I glided one hand up her back and tangled it in her hair. Firmly but gently, I pulled on it until her face was tilted up.

Then I crashed my mouth down on hers.

Britta melted against me immediately, and I grunted in approval as I held her even tighter.

She let out a little gasp, and I plunged my tongue inside to taste her sweetness.

My need for her was primal, and the kiss quickly became carnal. It was only the chill of the late January wind that reminded me where we were before I lost my mind and fucked her right there on the grass in front of the clubhouse.

But it was only the reminder that she was probably in danger that gave me enough strength to end my assault on her mouth.

“Stone,” she sighed, relief evident in her tone as she rested her cheek against my chest. “I need your help.”

“Shaw,” I corrected.

“What?” she asked, looking up at me, her expression confused.

“Stone is my road name, baby. You call me Shaw.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks turned adorably pink, and her lips curled up into a pretty smile, but it dropped half a second later as her expression darkened with fear.

I was about to ask about it, but she shivered, and I realized she was only wearing a sweater. Tennessee generally had mild weather, but January was still our coldest month, and it was in the low fifties.

“Let’s get you inside. Then we can talk,” I muttered as I released her, although I kept one arm around her as I led her to the front door.

Maverick was waiting just inside, and he nodded at her in greeting. “Britta. I’d say nice to see you, but I assume you wouldn’t be here unless there was a problem.”

He turned and led the way down the hall in the opposite direction of the lounge.

“Where are we going?” she asked softly, looking around with apprehension.

“Maverick’s office. So we can talk in privacy, baby. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Fox is on his way,” Mav said over his shoulder as he strolled through the door to a room that looked similar to the prez’s office. However, the decor made it obvious who belonged in each one.

Britta frowned. “Will he be here soon? Because I need help fast.”

He gave me a look and added, “He was…at The Room.”

I nodded in acknowledgment. The Room was a small, nondescript building on the back of the fenced property. We used it to deal with…people who needed encouragement to talk or ones who needed to be put in the ground.

“He’ll only be a couple of minutes, baby.”

“Have a seat,” Maverick suggested. Once he sat behind his desk and I had settled Britta on the couch next to me, Mav smiled at her. He had a way of putting people at ease, something we’d had in common until Britta was ripped away from me and I grew into an angry bastard all the time.

Maverick’s expression was soft when he asked Britta, “Texted a few other enforcers to join us, just so everyone has the details firsthand. Are you comfortable with that?”

She looked up at me, and I smiled before kissing her forehead. Returning her gaze to Mav, her voice was strong when she agreed. “Yes. But will they be long? My mom?—”

She was cut off by a “Yo” as Deviant—an enforcer and our resident tech genius—strolled through the door. He dropped into a chair next to a medium-sized conference table on the opposite side of the room from Britta and me. He observed us for a second, then his brow rose in question.

“Britta came to us for help,” I explained.

Fox stalked into the room before I could say anything else.

His expression was fierce, but he smoothed it over when he looked at Britta. He glanced at me, then at Britta’s other side, probably looking for her mom. When his eyes came back to me, they were furious.

“She came to us, Prez,” Maverick explained, probably assuming where Fox’s mind had gone.

His scowl eased up, and he turned his attention back to my girl. “Where’s Marylin?”

“That’s why I came?—”

“Hold up, Britta,” Mav interjected, his eyes directed at the door to his office.

Whiskey—our sergeant at arms—and two other enforcers, Racer and Hunter, walked in and joined Deviant at the table.

Fox braced his feet apart and crossed his arms over his chest in an intimidating stance. However, he softened it by smiling encouragingly at Britta. “What’s going on, B?”

I scowled at his use of a nickname for my woman but now wasn’t the time to address it. Especially not when she described what she found at her apartment only a few hours ago.

Fox’s face twisted with rage, and I had a feeling I knew why. The fury was burning in my gut, and if Britta hadn’t been there, I’d have been swearing up a blue streak and putting my fist through a wall.

Fox pivoted to face the table where the other guys sat. “Deviant, focus on finding Marylin.”

“Why don’t I put Grey on Marilyn so I can focus on the…other thing?”

Fox nodded. “Marylin is the priority, so if Grey isn’t available?—”

“On it,” Deviant replied, already out of his seat and headed for the door.

I felt Britta’s relief in her posture as she watched him leave. She didn’t know many of us, but she knew Deviant’s role since he’d been integral to her relocation.

Prez was still barking orders to the other when Britta whispered, “Who is Grey?”

“A tech genius who belongs to the Silver Saints MC. Fox’s and Maverick’s old ladies are the president’s daughters, so we have a close alliance with them.”

Everyone but Maverick left the office, and Fox turned his attention back to me and Britta. “Get B settled in your room. Gonna have a talk with King,”—King was the road name for Connor Kingsley, who had taken over as president of the Hounds of Hellfire when the last guy retired—”and we’ll meet in your office in half an hour.”

Letting the nickname thing go again…for now, I nodded and climbed to my feet before holding out my hand to help Britta up.

“I’ll send Molly to you just before the meeting,” Maverick offered. “She can take her to get something to eat and show her around a little.”

“Thank you,” Britta answered as I led her toward the door.

We walked toward the back of the building, where several rooms belonged to members or were empty for anyone who needed to crash at the clubhouse.

The entire second floor was also rooms, but I’d chosen one on the ground floor. It wasn’t far from my office, which was convenient when I needed to work late. Something that happened more than I liked since I was the club’s lawyer.

With the number of clients our various club-owned businesses had, I was often bogged down by contracts. Then there was the legal shit involved in keeping my brothers out of jail or defending them if needed. And a staggering amount of paperwork came with owning the majority of a town.

Unlike a lot of clubs, the Iron Rogues had a very small compound that only had the clubhouse, some wooded areas, and The Room. It was hidden on the outskirts of town. Rather than building a fortress, we owned 90 percent of the land and businesses in Old Bridge. Anyone who lived within the town limits was a member, family member, or basically had to be approved by the MC.

Owning all the businesses and rental properties was enough to keep me busy, but I also handled the legal side of selling empty houses or lots to patched members who didn’t want to live in the clubhouse. That had become much more frequent since so many of my brothers had claimed old ladies and started families.

“My office,” I murmured to Britta, pointing at a closed door. Britta had a lot to learn about life in an MC, so I figured I might as well start right away.

We reached my room, and I unlocked it before ushering her inside. Then I pulled her into my arms and stared down at her. “You’re my priority, baby. Always. You need anything, you come to me. Don’t ever feel like you’re interrupting or unwelcome.”

Britta smiled warmly, her beautiful green eyes nearly making me forget what I’d been about to say.

“But there will be shit that I’m not allowed to share with you. Sometimes I’ll come out to talk to you rather than letting you in.”

She nodded, and I was relieved when her expression held acceptance rather than anger.

“In private, you can argue with me, yell, throw things, whatever. Even around my brothers, to a certain extent. But in front of prospects or other visitors, we have to keep up appearances, so you’ll have to do as I say without question.”

She stared at me thoughtfully for a second, then her expression turned cheeky and she asked, “But when we’re alone, I can scream at you?”

I laughed and brushed a kiss over her mouth before whispering in her ear, “Baby, you’ll definitely be screaming when we’re alone. For a whole different reason.”

Britta’s face turned pink, and a little smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

Just as quickly, her smile disappeared, and her green pools darkened. She sighed and hugged me tight, casting her eyes down before resting her cheek against my chest.