But in the corner Lilli was fixed on was a large chess set, the board itself the surface of a table. The pawns were each five inches tall. The kings and queens, the largest pieces, were each ten inches tall. A game was in progress on the board. Isaac could tell that Lilli knew he’d made the set. He was pleased to see her rapt focus; he was proud of that work.
Chess sets were among the work he did that actually made him some real money. Depending on the wood he used and the carving and turning choices he made, he could get hundreds of dollars for a set that took him a couple of days to make and less than a hundred bucks in materials. He’d once done a set on special order that had taken him a week of fairly focused work, and had netted him a couple grand. But the work Lilli was fixed on was a labor of love. Isaac considered it art. The pieces were turned in an abstract style, and no two pieces, not even the pawns, were identical. The woods he’d chosen were elaborately grained and burled, and he’d spent a very long time picking the right wood, the right orientation of grain, for each piece. He’d made the set over months, when he had time to just play in his shop. It had been a kind of therapy, started right after his father died, when he’d taken over the head of the table.
Lilli turned to him, “Jesus, Isaac. That’s beautiful. Can I—?” She gestured her desire to take a closer look.
“Sure—that’s an actual game in progress, though, so it’d be good to leave the pieces where they are.” He went with her as she crossed the Hall.
“Who’s playing? You?” She brushed her fingers over the white queen, made of a perfect piece of spruce. She was a beauty; Isaac knew it—all spirals and latticing.
“Told you chess was my game. Show and I have one going pretty much all the time. None of these other assholes has the head for chess.” He said that loudly enough for the room to hear him, since he was giving them shit. A lot of the men were smart enough, he thought, but they were mostly the kinds of guys who liked their games loud and drenched in booze. Poker was their game. They all knew to keep their paws off the board, though.
Isaac moved behind Lilli and put his free hand on her hips. He kissed the base of her neck, and she leaned back into him. He knew what the room was seeing. He wasn’t touching her rhetorically, but he was glad of the message nonetheless. He kissed slowly up the sleek line of her neck, and she tipped her head to the side to give him full access. When he reached her ear, he whispered, “You play?”
She turned into his kiss, her head resting against his shoulder. “I know how the pieces move, but no, I’ve never really played.”
“You should, Sport. You’d be great at it. Your mind works the right way.” The shit with Ray rising again to the fore of his thoughts, Isaac pressed his lips to her temple. “C’mon, let’s talk to Show.” He put his bottle to his lips and drained it, then he took her hand and led her back. He nodded toward the office to Show, who drained his beer and came off his stool to follow them.
When the three got back to the office, Isaac led Lilli to the couch against the back wall and sat down next to her. Left with the choice to sit three on the couch, stand, or sit in Isaac’s desk chair, Show, after a quick pause, sat in the chair. That was okay with Isaac. He had no need to remind Show who was in charge, and he wanted to be close to Lilli.
“We got ourselves a problem, Show. I need you to hear Lilli out. Can’t leave this room, though. Stays between us three until we’re ready to do what we decide to do.” Without a word, Showdown nodded and turned to Lilli, waiting for her to say her piece. With an uncertain glance at Isaac, she did. She told the story almost exactly as she’d told him. Isaac got the sense that it was the only way she could tell it, almost as if she were reading back a transcription.
Isaac watched Show as Lilli spoke. His VP was several years older than he, and the smartest man Isaac knew. He would have made a good president, too, but he was too smart to want it. Getting him to agree to be VP had taken Isaac a lot of effort. But from the time he was a teen, it was Show he could talk to, Show who had the right view on things. He was the kind of guy who sat back and saw everything. He wasn’t slow to act when action was needed, but he never acted simply for the sake of the action. He was quiet and thoughtful. He’d been in the club for a long time, and he’d seen some heavy shit, but he was content running the feed store and going home at night to his little house, and spending the evening with his wife and three daughters.
Isaac was thoughtful, too, and he worked hard to lead with his head and not his fists, but his temper was much hotter than Show’s, and when provoked, he did things like shove scissors into the hand of a shithead realtor. Said realtor was playing nice now, seemed like, after Show had talked him down and brought him Candy. Distract him with shiny things, indeed.
Now Show sat quietly and listened, never interrupting Lilli as she told the story all the way through to how she knew what Ray had done. Isaac saw his face change, from a look of curious interest, to much more rapt interest, to sympathy and shock, and finally to something Isaac couldn’t quite identify—or, rather, something Isaac had never found the apt word for. Show was running the scenarios.
Finally he focused on Lilli and said, “Pardon me for this, darlin’.” He turned to Isaac. “You believe it all, then? That’s heavy shit to throw down, not much evidence. I’m going to speak plainly and say it needs to be your brain doing the believing, and not some other part.”
Isaac would pulp any other man who suggested such a thing, but Show was doing his job. “No doubt, Show. At all.”
Showdown nodded. “Good enough for me. Won’t be good enough for the club, though. I don’t see it. Lilli’s new in town and doesn’t even know the whole club. Her word against a brother’s—won’t be enough.” He leaned toward Isaac. “Brother, you know that’s true. If she was with any other of us and brought this story here, you would need more.”
Lilli nodded and started to stand up. Isaac’s arm shot out almost without his realizing it, and he pinned her where she sat. He knew what she was thinking. “Easy, baby. We’re not done yet. Wyatt and Ray are gone for two more weeks at least. Can’t do anything until then. We have time to work this.” To Show he said, “Her word and my faith in it is enough for you. Between you and me, it’ll be enough for Bart and Len, too. Don’t need a unanimous vote. Just need one more.”
Show sat back in the chair. “You’re talking about moving to kill a brother’s blood on a split vote. That could tear the club apart, right in the face of this Ellis shit. You ready to take that risk?”
“Ray is dead anyway, vote or not. I’m ready to take that risk to save retaliation on Lilli, yes. Right now.”
Show’s eyes went wide at that, and he turned to Lilli. “You think you could give us a couple minutes, Lilli?”
Isaac was having none of that. “No. She stays. Say it.”
“Alright then. You’ve known this girl what, three weeks? A month? And you’re ready to risk the club—the whole damn town—for her? Isaac, that’s your dick thinking.”
Suddenly, Isaac forgot that Show’s job was plain speaking, saying the hard shit and keeping Isaac level. He flipped straight into rage and started to stand, his whole body tense. But Lilli held the arm he still had on her thigh, keeping him in place, and she spoke, her focus intent on Show.
“Look. I understand. You don’t know me. What I’m going to do will affect your club, and cause a member pain. Ray is dead, that’s not negotiable. An entire squad was gunned down. Their bodies were mutilated, they were burned, and then they were hung from a wall to taunt us. All that happened because Hobson didn’t want a woman—me—as his superior. That son of a bitch is dead. I’m sorry if that hurts the club, and I understand you’ll do what you have to do. Hell, I won’t even fight retaliation, if that’s the way it goes.”
Isaac jumped at that and grabbed her arm—what the fuck did she think she was saying?!—but she ignored him and went on. “There’s no way I can get you proof. I have only the word of an ally I won’t pull farther into this. But here’s this
: get Hobson drunk. He confessed directly to my friend when he was drunk. See if he’ll do it again. From what Isaac says, he’s a screwy mess, anyway. And I can wait a bit to try to do this as cleanly as I can.”
Show considered her; Lilli held his eyes steadily. “You’re a badass little beauty, aren’t you? You’ve got sense, too.” He turned to Isaac. “I think she’s right, Isaac. We wait. We see if we can get Ray to talk. Then we take it to the club. It’s CJ and Victor we can get on board, I think. Either or both of them. They’re vets. This thing Ray did? They’ll want him dead, too. With Ray fessin’ up, though, we might get everybody but Wyatt. That’s my advice.”
Isaac had another idea, too. But he was angry now and done with advice. He needed to calm down. He nodded tersely to Show, who got the message, patted Lilli’s knee, and left without another word.
When Show was gone, Isaac got up from the couch and paced the room. He was livid, and he needed to get control. Why was he so angry? Because Lilli had basically said once Ray was dead she didn’t care if she lived or died? Yes. Because Show had insulted the fuck out of her and him? Yes. Because he was right—to keep Lilli safe, Isaac was ready to blow his club up if he had to?
Yes. No. Goddammit. He couldn’t fucking do that. Too many people were counting on him. He clutched the tall back of his leather desk chair and sent it wheeling hard across the room to crash into the metal filing cabinet.
“Isaac.”
He turned to Lilli, who was still sitting on the couch, looking calm. “Baby, I’m sorry. It’s not as bad as it looks. We’ll work it, I promise.”
She stood and walked to him. She was so goddamn beautiful, her long, dark ponytail over her shoulder, her jeans snug on her hips but not too tight to restrict their sway, just the barest inch of perfect belly peeking out from under her t-shirt. She stopped right in front of him and took his hands in hers, easing them from the fists he hadn’t realized he was clenching.
“There’s a plan. It’s the best plan we’ve got, I think. Whether it works or not, we won’t know until Hobson is back. That means we have two weeks, right? So let’s set it aside. It might be the last two weeks we’ve got.”
“No way, Lilli. No way. It’ll work. Has to.” He couldn’t even contemplate what she was suggesting could happen in two weeks.
“Okay, then. We’ll have more time. But just in case, let’s take this time. Okay?” She put a hand on his cheek, stroking her fingers through his beard. It was a frequent caress, and it calmed him. He leaned into her hand.
“You can do that?”
She smiled. “Sure. You learn that on the front lines, love. Don’t take out an advance on trouble.”
He looked into her eyes. To call them grey was insufficient, but he had no better word. He’d tried to think of a metaphor for the color, but had failed. The best he’d come up with was the color of the sky on an overcast day, but he’d be damned if he said something so florid out loud. They were beautiful. Bright. They glittered when she smiled. “God, I love you, Sport.”
“And I love you.” She grabbed his belt buckle and pulled it loose. “Show me how you love me.”
He’d been hard since she put her hand on his face. Now, he chuckled and opened her jeans. “You want it sweet?” Their sex earlier had been rough and intense.
“You know I don’t.” She had his jeans open, and she slid her hands along his hips and around to grab his ass. Their sex was loud, and he didn’t relish the thought of everybody out in the Hall hearing them. It had never stopped him before, but Lilli was different.
Then her hand came around to cup his sack and give him a squeeze. She shifted her hand to his cock. “Oh, damn, you’re so hard,” she whispered, her forehead on his chest. “I love your cock so much.”
Isaac figured the soundproofing in the office walls was good enough.
He lifted her face and kissed her, his tongue plunging into her mouth, tracing her teeth and tongue. She snaked her arms around his neck and raised up high on her toes. Nothing—nothing—felt like her body against his. He wanted their clothes off. All of them.
“I want you naked.” Even to him, his voice sounded like a growl. She stepped back from him with a little siren’s smile and pulled her t-shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor with a wink. He went to the door and locked it; when he turned around, she had her boots off and was shimmying out of her jeans. He stripped as fast as he could, barely taking the time to hang his kutte over his chair.
When she was wearing nothing but a black lacy thong, her breasts bare and beautiful, her nipples hard with desire for him, he stopped her. “Leave it. I’ll get it.” She unhooked her thumbs from the thin strings across her hips and stood waiting.
Finally rid of his clothes, her strode to her and pulled her close, taking a second to feel the satin of her bare skin on his coarse body. He pulled the band from her hair, and she shook it loose, the silky tresses brushing over his arms on her back, making him groan. He brought them to the floor.
She wanted it rough; she always wanted it rough. But Isaac found that he was too overwhelmed by love and too haunted by the fear of losing her to be anything but sweet right now, to this woman who’d found a place in his heart he hadn’t known was there. He kissed her, holding her close, his hands all over her, but gently, soothing. He slid her thong slowly down her legs, kissing a path to her ankles as he went. Then he pulled himself back up along her writhing body and thrust his hand between her legs to find her wet and ready, as she always was for him. He rubbed lightly over her clit, gently between her folds.
She bucked and moaned, frustrated. “Isaac, come on.”
He bent down and kissed her breast, flicking his tongue softly over the hard bud of her nipple. His mouth on her skin, he said, “No, baby. Let me go easy. Easy is good, too.” Pushing up onto his knees, he reached for his jeans and grabbed a condom. After it was on, he shifted to lie over her and press into her, slowly inching his cock as deep as he could get. She arched her back, and her eyes rolled up. She moved hard under him, flexing. He brought a leg up to rest on her thigh, pinning her. “Hey, no. We’re goin’ slow. I want to savor you.”
“On the floor of your office, we’re going slow?” She huffed and struggled some more.
Isaac liked a rough fuck, too—in fact, he was surprised at his need now to be sweet—but Lilli’s resistance to his tenderness was beginning to seem strange. He caught her head in his hands and peered down into her eyes. “Baby, there a problem?”
She stilled and stared back; then, she surprised him with a chuckle. He felt it around his cock, so deep inside her. “No. I’m sorry. Habit.” He didn’t understand, so he furrowed his brow. She continued, “Self-protection, I guess. Don’t make love. It’s like a rule I had for myself.”
He brushed his fingers over her cheekbones. “Had?”
The look she gave him then, limpid and warm, swelled his heart. “Yeah, had.”
“Good.” He moved slowly inside her, holding her eyes with his. She wrapped her arms around his back and her legs around his waist, clasping him tightly to her, and, for the first time, they made love.
Even sweet, though, he still made her scream.
~oOo~
Isaac and Show watched Kenyon Berry and Marcus Grant, Berry’s right hand, drive off the Horde lot. Isaac’s brain was buzzing. He turned to Show; any lingering anger he’d felt about the conversation with Lilli they’d had the day before had been blown away by Kenyon’s visit.
Though still backing the Horde, Kenyon was suspending traffic on this pipeline, diverting resources elsewhere until the pressure from Ellis was down. Ellis was making a hard push in St. Louis, too, fully annexing the Northside Knights and looking to eliminate the Underdawgs entirely. St. Louis was open war. Kenyon’s point—a good one—was that the risk was too great for the Horde and Signal Bend, too, to keep moving product into such volatile turf. But St. Louis and points east of it represented substantially more than half the revenue the cookers, and thus the Horde, and thus th
e town, brought in. To the west, they had Springfield, Joplin and Tulsa. Losing St. Louis would cripple them.
That wasn’t even the worst news. His attempts to take over Signal Bend through legal channels thwarted thus far by the Horde’s success at keeping Mac Evans distracted and vulnerable property owners strong enough to resist, Ellis had apparently decided to use force instead. He was bringing the war to them. The Northsiders were recruiting like crazy, swelling their ranks. Kenyon’s intel was that they were looking to move on Signal Bend physically, drive people out. Kenyon thought they had maybe a few months before there was a turf war on the lazy streets of Signal Bend, and the enemy was bigger, stronger and richer—by orders of magnitude.
Show spoke up first. “How we handling this, boss?”
It was clear to Isaac. Nigh on impossible, but clear. “Straight on. Only way. We’re gonna need the whole town on the beam, if we have any chance. We have a little time, though. Kenyon’ll keep us apprised. First thing, we need to start guard shifts. Get men patrolling town, farm roads, all of it. We’re gonna need volunteers, and they’re gonna need some training and setup.”
Showdown nodded slowly. “We need weapons. These assholes won’t be coming in with hunting rifles and shotguns. We don’t have the scratch to arm people.”
That was how Tulsa and Joplin could help—and it would keep them away from the heat, too, as they wanted. “I’ll get with Becker and Dandy. Tulsa’s running guns; I’ll get a family discount. And I’m calling Sam. Time to call in a marker with The Scorpions.” They’d done an array of favors for the international MC over the years and had never needed to call in one. Now it looked like they might need them all at once.
Move the Sun (Signal Bend Series) Page 18
