She sighed. “You’re right. I need to go back to the kitchen. I’m helping Dorie.”
Grinning down at her, I told her, “This I have to see.”
As we moved toward the front of the house where the kitchen was situated, she asked, “Why?”
“I never imagined you as a domestic goddess.”
Her nose crinkled, and the gesture was so like the one Amaryllis had made that my heart went pitter-fucking-patter in my chest. “I’m not. Not really.”
“Then why are you helping in the kitchen?”
“Easier than being out there,” she admitted with a sigh.
“They’ll come around,” I told her, hauling her into my side so I could squeeze her.
“I know. Just… not yet.”
“Hey Axe. You going to help us make potato salad?” Dorie teased, the second I crossed the threshold.
I snorted. “Only if you want it to be burned.”
“How the hell can you burn potato salad?”
“The potatoes need to be cooked, don’t they?” I retorted.
“You should be good with a cleaver. That’s like an ax, ain’t it?” Dorie asked, tapping her chin as she thought about a task she could give me.
Lucie laughed. “Let’s not test it.”
Smirking, Dorie returned to her own task—looked like she was icing a couple dozen cupcakes. Because the job seemed pretty fucking thankless, I kept my mouth shut in case she asked for help, and turned to look out the window.
In the near distance, there was a bonfire that had been stacked since this morning when we’d had all the prospects building it. We wouldn’t light it until darkness fell, but everyone was hanging out around it, most of them with some BBQ on their paper plates as they talked, danced to the music that was blaring out from speakers that were set out around the front of the house, and basically having a good time.
The sweetbutts had to make themselves scarce on Sundays, because we didn’t want any kids seeing them with any of the bikers, and that was why the old ladies were in the kitchen cooking when that would normally be the clubwhores’ job.
It pleased me to see my brothers and their families looking so happy in the bright midsummer’s day. I wasn’t one for introspection, but ever since Lucie had returned, I’d taken to overthinking shit, trying to understand how everything had changed, all so I could find my new balance. That wasn’t to say I wasn’t happy, because I was, still, Lucie had a way of making a man’s world rock and I was just trying to roll with the punches.
In the industrial kitchen, Dorie and Lucie worked to set up the side dishes. I knew Dorie was a bit of an introvert unless it was with people she liked, and that she and Lucie got on so well told me that Dorie had never believed Bomber, so she’d had more faith in Lucie than we had… Well, that made me feel like shit, even though I was glad Lucie had at least one friend.
“Do you need more help?” I asked when, after twenty minutes, no one else came in and offered their aid.
Dorie snorted. “Nope. I’m used to it.”
I scowled. “That’s shit. I can get some prospects in to help. You should have said that no one was helping out, Dorie.”
“I like it when it’s quiet. Don’t need all those old hens chattering away.”
Lucie laughed. “Can’t believe you’re Wheels’ old lady, Dorie.”
The other woman chuckled. “That’s exactly why I need the peace. You know he chatters more than the sweetbutts.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I said around a laugh of my own.
“Surprised you ain’t got into it with some of the sweetbutts, Lucie. Not with the way they hang around your men.”
My laughter died and I glowered at her, but Dorie had been raised with us so she just cocked a brow at me, then, stunned me by sticking out her tongue.
Lucie snorted. “They’ll learn. Soon enough.” The warning was for me too.
I heeded it by staying out of the conversation.
“You still thinking of moving out?”
Shit, Lucie had talked about this with Dorie? But, even as I grumbled inwardly, I couldn’t be too mad. Not when I knew how loud this place was, how inappropriate too—I’d fallen over two couples fucking in the bar before I’d sought out Wolfe for our little conversation with Amaryllis. It wasn’t like I could say shit. They’d been two brothers with their old ladies, and everyone knew that the bar was where any kind of scene could go down.
“Yeah. I keep meaning to, then I get bogged down with something else.”
Dagger had told me she wanted us to move with her, so I wasn’t scared of her leaving, but fuck, it would be a real upheaval and it wasn’t like we worked a nine-to-five. We needed to be on hand most hours of the day, especially when it came down to runs, and hell, they were safe here. That mattered to me more than anything. Especially with those bastard Knights hovering around the perimeter of our lives.
Still, if we kept her busy, then maybe she’d forget entirely… wasn’t a bad plan, even if it was devious, and where devious was concerned, it meant outwitting a master.
Or, in this case, mistress, because Lucie was one of the best bullshitters I’d ever seen. Definitely meant we had to bring our A game to the table.
❖
Wolfe
Four days later
“Okay, give me the details.”
Lucie, ever difficult, squinted at me. “Details about what?”
“You know what.”
She hitched a shoulder. “Maybe.”
My nostrils flared with exasperation. “You have five minutes before the council meeting starts. If you want me to sell this idea to them, then you’d better—”
“You’re giving me five minutes to discuss this business transaction before church?” She shook her head at me. “You really don’t want to make any money this year, do you?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Do you know how much money there is in smuggling cigarettes between states?”
“A lot, I’d assume. Imagine how much more money there is in guns.”
“You know how bizarre this conversation is, right?” Axe pointed out. “Lucie, if you had a dick, you’d have whipped it out right now and started a measuring contest.”
“Which I’d win,” I told her smugly.
“My cock might be smaller, but I know what to do with it.” She sniffed. “Unlike some people.”
Because that was a blatant lie—and no, my ego wasn’t so huge that I thought I was Casanova reborn—I had to laugh. “You’ve got some front, babe.”
She grabbed her tits. “And all of it’s up here.” When we laughed, she smirked at us. “You know it’s the truth,” she ended with a wink.
I was tempted to haul her onto my lap and motorboat her tits, but fuck, I wasn’t lying about church.
“Yeah, it’s the truth, but come on. How am I supposed to—”
“How about you let me into church and I sell the details myself? I’m the one who knows the process.” She huffed. “Makes more sense, right?”
“No bitches in church,” Flame mumbled, his lighter hissing to punctuate the sentence.
“Then no G.G.s to make us plenty of money.” She rubbed her fingers together. “I’ll be off. I have a house to find in town.” Her eyes turned distant. “Is Taylor Hills still swank?”
Axe’s shoulders straightened. “You can’t seriously think we can live there?”
Her grin was all teeth. “You haven’t seen the money in my account, baby.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “How much money did those guns earn you, Lucifer?”
“You know that trick stopped working when I was, what, ten, right?” She snorted at my use of her full name.
“Yeah, well, maybe if you gave us some of the facts we’d be more open to the business—”
She shrugged. “Don’t need you to be open to it. I can do the business myself. Ryan and I did. Can afford the initial outlay because that’s how I got the money—sold all our equipment.”
“You have
to be shitting me. You had a factory?” I rasped.
“Ryan was very good at what he did, and he taught me everything he knew.” There was a surprising lack of smugness to her words, and I knew that was because Ryan had only taught her everything because he’d known he was sick and wasn’t going to be there forever to protect her.
My brother had had white knight syndrome. If I hadn’t loved the bastard, I’d resent him, because how the fuck were we mortals ever supposed to compare?
“As shitty as Rutherford is,” Dagger insisted, “Taylor Hills’ properties are still over a million because of the land.”
“I can afford it. Plus, I’ll need the land, won’t I?”
“For the factory you intend to make?” I snapped, arching a brow at her. Even though I was pissed at her for trying to checkmate me, I had to admit, she looked fine doing it.
Dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down, she looked surprisingly formal. I’d forgotten her plan to find somewhere to live today, and she was obviously out to impress—that wasn’t so easy when she wore her usual getup of shitkickers, denim shorts or a mini skirt, and a wife beater that showed more of her tits than hid them. We’d managed to keep her occupied, but not for long enough if her smart attire was anything to go by.
“Yup,” she chirped cheerfully.
When she waved a hand at us, her intent to leave, I ground out, “Lucifer, stay right where you are.”
“You my daddy now, Wolfe?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing into slits. “Just ‘cause I don’t know who mine is don’t mean I need someone to take up the role.”
My top lip quirked up. “If anyone needs to be taken over their knee by their ‘daddy,’ it’s you.” As much as I’d have loved to slap her ass, I didn’t. Church was getting closer. “No women in church, Lucie. You know that rule.”
“I also know that rules are made to be broken,” she purred at me, and fuck, if my cock didn’t twitch.
Shoving a hand through my hair, I gritted out, “Just tell me how much you made last year.”
“Turnover or profit?”
“Both?” I rasped impatiently.
“Eight hundred thousand turnover, three-fifty profit.” She shrugged. “They’re expensive to make when there are only two hands on deck, because it’s a labor-intensive process. More hands, more guns, more money.”
“More ways to split the money too,” Dagger pointed out.
“The joys of expansion,” was all she said. “You have to spend money to make it.”
I grunted. “What’s the process?”
“I’m not giving you the idea, boys.”
My nostrils flared in irritation. “Thought this was your buy in to the MC?”
“And it is, but I can’t buy shit if I sell it to you beforehand. You want me here, I know that,” she replied, her tone earnest for the first time since this conversation had started. “But the rest? Nope.” She popped the last syllable. “If I sell them this idea, then at least they’ll know what I’m bringing to the table.”
Because she wasn’t wrong, I sighed. Reaching up, I pinched the bridge of my nose and mumbled, “You think you have us by the balls—”
“No, sugar, I don’t think I do, I know I do. But that’s only because you’re interested in my proposal. The money’s there.” She retrieved her cell from the neat leather purse she had tucked on her shoulder. As she tapped the screen, I stared at her, and had to admit the whole soccer mom/businesswoman vibes she was throwing off was hot as fuck.
When she stepped over to me and turned her screen around, I saw she was on her online banking app on her phone. When I saw the digits in her account, I whistled.
Her lips curved in a knowing grin, before she turned around and showed my brothers. “Proof of the pudding is in the eating.”
Axe cut me a look, but I saw he was just as startled as I was. Ryan had set Lucie up well, and fuck, she’d had no need to come back here. If I’d thought it was because she needed support, I was wrong. Well, kind of. She didn’t need the financial kind, but the emotional? Yeah, she needed that.
Lucie was a pretty cold woman, but where we were concerned, we were her kryptonite. I knew that. Knew that she needed us as much as I’d trained myself not to need her.
Having her around was making these past few years of denying my feelings for her seem all the more fucking pointless. And when I thought about my disastrous marriage? I felt like an even bigger dumbass.
Axe’s voice was thoughtful as he stated, “I think the brothers will be interested in what she has to say.”
No shit. With that amount of money backing her? Jesus would be interested too. Maybe for different reasons, though…
While I bitched about it, I ultimately agreed to having the pain in my ass approach the brothers at church.
Watching her walk away, Axe’s arms slung around her shoulders as he guided her out of the office, was enough to make it worthwhile though. I could sense her excitement, could read the hope she had that this would be enough to appease the rest of the club.
But I wasn’t so sure. Bikers had long memories, and Bomber had fucked up her rep over the years. For her sake, I hoped this was enough, and that I wasn’t lynched when my brothers saw who I’d brought with us for the meeting.
Church took place in the basement, which replicated the floor plan of the stairs above. It contained a large, custom-built table that seated thirty brothers, with the rest herded around it on other seats.
Knowing the rest of the MC would be inside by now because we were running late, I hauled her back when we reached the door. “Don’t come in until we call for you,” I told her, surprised when she just nodded and stayed back without argument.
As we walked in, the chatter of two hundred men died down. The act was respectful, but I’d heard what they were discussing like a bunch of old hens before they’d shut their traps—Lucie’s return and why we hadn’t tossed her out.
Dumbfucks.
Ignoring them, I went straight to the table and took my place. I was at the head, Axe, as my VP, was at the other end. Dotted around were Flame, who was my Enforcer, and Dagger, who was my Treasurer. The positions of Secretary, Road Captain, and Sergeant of Arms had yet to be established as the previous holders of said roles had all died in the same gunfight that had killed Bomber.
We were currently at war with the MC behind that mass slaughter, but we’d had to retreat to lick our wounds as we tried to find a new equilibrium.
In truth, Lucie couldn’t have returned home at a worse time in that we were all unsettled and on edge. But, with her proposition, she might well save all our asses.
The basement was illuminated starkly with bright white lights that made me feel like I was being interrogated by the cops, but it was a dark as fuck space without them. I hated being down here, but I didn’t have much say in the matter. Church was church, and holding it down here was more than just convenient, since it fit the three-hundred strong brotherhood, but also, Bomber had stacked the place with supplies in case we were attacked.
I’d always thought the fucker was paranoid, until he’d been shot down by Satan’s Knights MC. A piss-poor excuse for a club who was trying to snatch our territory out from under us.
Thinking about having Amaryllis and Lucie in the midst of this chaos set my heart racing, and knowing that she wanted to live outside the clubhouse? Fuck. That just wasn’t going to work, even if I understood her logic. I wasn’t happy about my little girl being in contact with these motherfuckers every day. I didn’t have many paternal instincts, but having her see the shit that went down in the clubhouse was more than even I thought I could stand.
With the hiss of Flame’s lighter punctuating every word, I listened to Axe who was acting as Secretary until we picked a new one. He read through some of the shit we’d discussed last time, things we were supposed to have resolved by now but hadn’t. It had been a fucked-up couple of weeks thanks to Lucie, and that point was rammed home by how little we’d achieved since last church.
Time that was unaffordable to lose.
I rubbed my nose as I slouched back in my seat, not paying as much attention as I should while I stared at my brothers. I had a feeling that we had a dirty rat among our kind, but nothing solid to suggest who.
Someone had told the Knights about our shipment, but it could have been someone with eyes on the compound.
My distrust and unease was one of the reasons I hadn’t selected brothers for the open roles on my council. They were all having to earn their spots.
“—before we get started on other business,” Axe drawled, “anyone have anything they need to bring to the table?”
The table was set in the back-right corner of the basement, so we could twist around and look out to the hordes of bikers down here. We were a large club, had doubled our numbers in the early nineties, thanks to the uptick in demand for cocaine. With our proximity to the border, calling on us for transport was pretty standard. Back in the day, we’d run lines for the Bratva up in Brighton Beach and a Mexican Cartel over in Chihuahua.
“Why’s Bomber’s daughter back?”
I pinpointed the brother who’d asked the question and narrowed my eyes at him. “She’s come home.”
“For good? Not sure what Bomber would think—”
“Who says I give a fuck what your opinion is?” I snapped back. “I don’t need a vote to take an old lady.”
Before anyone could say anything, utter another word that would break the sudden silence my declaration had triggered, Flame’s lighter hissed and popped. “Nor does Dagger, Axe, or I.”
I felt the other men’s confusion. My nostrils flared in irritation at being cornered like that, but fuck, I got it, and if it meant being undermined by the other members, then I’d just have to prove to them that I was still as much of a cunt as ever.
“You’re sharing her?” Rodeo asked, his eyes wide.
I dipped my chin. “She’s ours. So, watch your fucking words.”
“She’s a traitor!” Locke spat from his position in the middle of the crowd. Apparently the dick felt passionate enough to leap to his feet.
Their Sinner: Hell’s Rebel’s MC Part I Page 12
