by Snow, Nicole
She was working at the bar, and she threw herself at me, practically bowling me over on the floor for the second time that day. I couldn't resist locking my arms around her.
Hard to believe so much shit happened in just a couple months since the wedding.
“Hey, sis. It's Brass here around these boys,” I reminded her.
She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? Just like you're gonna suck it up and call me Saffron?”
Damn. Hearing that fucking stripper name was always like a shot in the chest, but right now we had more important things. I hugged her one more time and then stepped back, nodding.
“Whatever you wanna be called, it's damned good to see you again. We'll catch up later when business is done.”
“We'll be the judge of that,” Blaze growled, slamming a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Let's go. You've said your piece.”
Shelly gave him a disapproving look. Blaze shrugged.
“Club business, baby. You know that.” He paused, flashing my sis a knowing smile. “Don't worry. We won't scratch a hair on his head unless he gives us a damned good reason to. All the boys are under orders not to. Even Tank.”
She nodded, relief shining in her face. “Make sure you bring him back here when you're finished. We barely got to talk at the wedding.”
Great. More drama for later. Didn't have a fucking clue how to tell her I'd picked up an old lady who almost killed my ass at first, plus a little girl.
Being marched into the large Devils' meeting room with Blaze behind me was almost a relief. Everybody was there waiting for me, a buncha guys I'd seen before, sans Stinger and Moose.
Blaze filed in behind me and pointed to a chair in the middle of the table. I sat, watching as he took his place. Typical Prairie Pussy bravado. The other guys looked like they'd suck his dick, all except Tank, who seemed like such a heavy bastard in his own right he didn't need to fawn over anybody.
Still, there was something in their eyes I'd never seen with Fang. True respect. Brotherhood.
They looked at their Prez like a worthy leader, not a man they ran favors for on fear alone.
“All right, bros, let's get this shit started,” he said, picking up a small gavel at the head of the table and slamming it down. “Church is in session, and we have a guest. Never thought I'd see a motherfucking bear at this table.”
He shook his head. I snorted. The disbelief was mutual. It was surreal as shit being here, staring at the faces of these men and their devil emblems, everything I'd been trained to destroy.
“Seems there's a power struggle in the Grizzlies MC,” Blaze continued. “Worse than the shit we've been hearing about their brush fire war with the cartel. Fang's reached his limit, and that's pretty fucking serious news for our club, seeing as we've always been on edge since Throttle sealed the truce with the bears.”
The two national Presidents putting blood aside seemed like eons ago – right here in Montana, no less. But it was really less than a year and a half ago, back when easy pussy and pushing sweet fire in my veins was all I had to worry about.
“Fang's a fucking idiot,” I growled. “Traitor to his own club.”
A tall, muscular dude around my own age snickered several chairs over. Blaze shot him an angry look. The Devil froze, pivoting his lip ring on his mouth.
“Shut the fuck up, Roller. I'm not gonna disrespect this asshole's colors as long as he doesn't shit on ours.” Blaze looked at Tank next to him, and then at me. “Now, Brass, you gonna tell us why the fuck Blackjack sent you racing up to our territory?”
I told them everything. How the fucked up war with the cartel weakened the whole club, fanning tensions that were simmering for years. Told them how they'd tried to kill me, how I shredded that psycho's face who'd tried to kill my girl, how Blackjack believed the club could turn itself around if it just burned away the cancer at the top.
When I was finished, Blaze leaned back in his chair, his jaw clenched thoughtfully. He turned to Tank.
“What do you think?”
“It's a real sad story, boss,” Tank said. Not something I ever expected to hear from the giant. “But having this boy here's a real load of bullshit.”
There. That's more like the Prairie Pussy badass wannabe I know. I looked at Goliath and grinned.
Blaze folded his hands and leaned forward, all his attention on me again. “I'm inclined to agree. Look, Brass, we appreciate you giving us a head's up about this shit. Mostly so we can stay the fuck out of it. What were you hoping to do with this little knock and talk?”
Fuck. Typical selfish Prairie Pussy bastard. I balled fists underneath the table, trying not to let the anger in my eyes flood everything.
“Blackjack and I are trying to save both our asses. Can't you fucking see that? I know this club's been through the grinder ever since you started this charter, Blaze. The last thing you wanna do is strap on your knee highs and go wading through our cesspool.”
“Damned straight,” Blaze said with a smile.
“And you're a fucking idiot if you let the past blind you to what's coming.”
Blaze's smile melted. Tank rose, slow and angry, ready to choke the life outta me for insulting his Prez in their own clubhouse.
“Wait, wait,” Blaze said, putting up his arm over Tank. “Let's give him one chance to qualify that before we shut his ass up for saying such stupid shit.”
“This shit will spill over into your club, Blaze. What I didn't get a chance to tell you is Fang thought I was a rat for the Devils. Not the cartel.”
“Fuck!” Tank growled, settling back into his chair.
“I know. We had a major shipment fucked up in Washington last week. He doesn't believe the Mexicans would slip so far north and hit us past Redding. Didn't take him long to draw a target on the Devils, thinking you'd double-crossed us while we've been busy.”
“Bastard!” Blaze's fists hit the table. “If that dumb motherfucker wants a war on his northern flank, we'll give him one. We'll ride through Sacramento with his fucking head on our bikes before the Mexicans can get to it.”
The Devils Prez was shaking. Hot headed as usual, but for once, I didn't blame him for having such a short fuse.
“Dunno, boss,” Tank said, eyeing me warily. “There's only eight of us, maybe double if we put in a call for reinforcements from the Dakota boys. That's enough to take Redding with Brass and his splinter group, but it's not shit if we gotta battle dudes from every other Grizzlies charter too.”
Blaze shook his head. “I hate to say it, but you're fucking right. Having this club on your side isn't gonna mop up every charter from Coeur d'Alene to San Diego. Besides, it sounds like the cartel's got your man on the ropes. Maybe we'd be better off here, beefing up our defenses, waiting for your evil empire to fall.”
I laughed. He really didn't see the full picture, and it was like talking to the goddamned wall trying to pry his eyes open.
Don't give up. This is the end of the line, boy. One more try, or settling down with Missy's gonna be the least of your worries.
I couldn't ignore the persistent voice in the back of my mind. I tried to stay calm as I looked at Blaze and stood, hands on the table, not even looking past him when Tank got up and began sizing me up.
“You're totally fucking wrong, Blaze. I wouldn't come here asking you for favors without holding an ace.” This time, I looked at Tank, the fiercest skeptic in the room. “He botched a hit a couple weeks ago. Some druggy with an old personal vendetta. When the fucker wouldn't pay up, he sent his boys after the guy. Ended up with a dagger in his back.”
“Who the fuck cares?” Tank growled. “Give us something we can chew on or shut the fuck up, bear.”
I grinned. “Fang doesn't take trophies like Devils do. He likes to see it all go down on video. Some guys recorded the crime scene. Even got some junkie bitch holed up in the room to squawk about what happened on film. Go ahead and fucking guess who's brought the tape to Big Sky country.”
Silence.
Tank and the younger
guys eyeballed me like they wanted to drag my ass out back and put a bullet through my head. Blaze drummed his fingers on the table, angrily digesting the bitter pill I'd just forced down his throat. He knew damned well how restless other club Prezes got when shit started to fall apart. One more bombshell that made the head honcho a target for the Feds was one straw too many, one last kick that would bring the whole rotten structure down.
He didn't need to know I'd killed the fuck myself and bribed the junkie to spill what I told her. He didn't need to know the twisted bastard was just a convenient kill I'd made for Jackie, warping the murder into a weapon against Fang.
I swore I'd bring his ass down. Any white lie, any kill, any fucked up stroke of luck was on the table.
Only trouble is, Blaze still didn't look convinced. Shit. I had to head him off before he could open his angry mouth and breathe selfish fear back into all his guys.
“Look, I get it. Calling in your support means a battle, even if there's hardly anyone left standing by Fang's side. But it's a battle that must be fought. This shit doesn't end any other way – not even if Fang ends up with his neck on some Mexican's machete. It's not over 'til my club's removed its cancer and starts to heal. Don't you see it? If the Grizzlies fall apart, guess who's next in line for the cartel?”
I gave him a chance to answer. He didn't.
“Those boys from south of the border don't fight like MCs. There's no code, no club charter holding 'em back, no mercy. It's all about green to them. Green money and red blood.” I rubbed my fingers together. “My club has a lot of fucking problems, I'm not blind to that. But we didn't fall apart over night either. We were kicking your asses, barely raising a finger, back before the cartel started bombing, shooting, and raping everything in sight. They're taking the Grizzlies down, piece by piece, and we're a helluva lot bigger than your club. What the fuck do you think they're gonna do when we're dead and buried? When there's nobody left to fight them tooth and nail between Mexico and Montana?”
Blaze opened his mouth to give me more hell, but nothing came out. He closed it, his lips twitching angrily, drumming his fingers on the table.
“This is the kinda shit that needs to go up for a vote,” he said quietly. “You're not a voting member, Brass. Kindly get the fuck out. I need all the brothers here so we can make our decision.”
“You mean I'm free to walk?”
“Wherever you won't trip on our club.” He looked past me. “Let's recess, bros. I'll tell Sting and Moose to bring this fucker's girls back around. They can hang out in the bar with him while we make our decision.”
Blaze looked at me, and I nodded, exiting the room before his gavel clapped the wood. I headed for the bar to see my sis, wondering if it was really possible we'd just come to some kinda fucked up understanding.
Missy ran to me when they got in. Jackie followed cautiously behind her, taking a seat at the bar.
I dropped the strong man act in my rival's lair just long enough to grab my girl's ass and press her to me. Fuck, her lips tasted good.
There'd been too much drama and too much Jackie around to fuck her like I wanted. Christ, after this vote, I needed to get in her again. Every second my cock wasn't buried in her pussy was a shitty one.
“Did they treat you right?” I asked, shifting my eyes on the two man escort strolling toward the meeting room.
“They were great!” Jackie chimed in before her big sis could answer.
“Yeah.” Missy smiled. “Jackie got a kick out of Moose talking like a pirate. He's the one with the –“
“Eye patch,” I finished for her. “I know.”
I hadn't heard how their Treasurer even lost his fucking eye, but it must've been recent. Still, hearing the good news put me a little bit at ease. The Prairie Pussies were assholes, but I wasn't worried they'd steal my women and cut their throats. It was nice to relax, if only a little bit.
“Who's this?” Saffron said, heading for the table with a pitcher of beer like I asked.
Missy looked at my sister, and I had a weird flashback to me and Blaze sizing each other up. My girl spoke first, studying Shelly's old lady jacket. It had a big PROPERTY OF BLAZE on the back, standard for claimed women in most clubs.
“I'm Missy Thomas, and this is my sister, Jackie. I'm Brass' old lady, and proud of it.” She stuck out a hand.
“Brass? Holy shit!” Shelly looked at me for a long time before I finally took the pitcher outta her hands and she took my girl's palm, giving it a shake.
Jackie laughed.
Fuck.
Wasn't sure what was worse: waiting to see if the Devils behind the wall voted to save our asses, or trying to explain to my little sis that I finally had something in my life worth living for.
IX: Heart on the Line (Missy)
I had to look close at Shelly Reagan to see the family resemblance. Her eyes were much brighter, and she didn't have that darkness swirling around her like Brass, the same sweet intensity I wanted to tame.
As soon as I said I was his old lady, there was a minute of stunned silence. Then the woman laughed, threw herself at me, and tucked her arms around me in a big, brutal, almost possessive hug. Okay, maybe they had something in common after all.
“Damn it, Jordan. Brass.” Shelly – Saffron? – pulled away and stuck her tongue out. “You blather on about being away and all this club intrigue, but don't even tell your own sis you've finally found a girl?”
I watched her do something I thought I'd never see. Saffron reached up and shoved her fingers through his short dark hair, the hair that felt amazing underneath my fingertips. Of course, Brass didn't wait more than a second before he pulled away – something he never would've done with me.
“Whatever,” he grunted. “You know there's been some serious shit going on. My mind's been in strange places.”
We shared a look. The stern mask on his face broke in a thin smile, and then he grabbed my hand and clutched it to his chest.
“You heard the lady right, sis. This is my old lady, and that's never gonna change no matter what your hubby decides in there.” He gestured his head toward the closed meeting room. “I'm gonna fuck up the men who've wrecked my club one way or another. Then I'm gonna give these two everything they seriously deserve.”
The hair ruffling fingers must've been infectious. He leaned past me, tossing Jackie's hair, much to my little sister's surprise.
“And where are you staying here in Missoula?” Saffron asked, giving me a good look.
“The Bison. The guys said it'd be the safest place.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Come on. We can do better than that. I'll talk to Blaze and see if you can stay at the new lake house we're renting.”
“Lake house?” Brass raised an eyebrow. “Fuck me sideways, sis. You've really come a long way in the world after growing up in shitty apartments. Whatever. Long as fucking Blaze is treating you right...”
She smiled. “He is. And you've come a long way too...”
I was about to grab his arm, press it between my breasts, a desperate little preview of all the ways I wanted to show him just how far he'd come. But the door to the meeting room swung open, and all the angry looking Devils came filing out.
Their President, Blaze, marched toward us like he was running on rocket fuel. Brass instantly tensed up, stepping out of my grasp. Saffron backed up toward the table, and I took a seat with Jackie, trying not to eavesdrop on the serious business unfolding behind me.
Well, good luck doing that. The men were right in front of me, and they looked like dynamite about to explode.
“Well? What's the word?” Brass asked.
“It's an aye. Unanimous. You're a sorry bastard, but you're fucking right. My boys and I can't risk watching the Grizzlies fall apart or become a damned front for the cartel to creep north. We'll help your asses out – on our terms.”
The thick tension melted. I turned, even as Saffron looked at me like I was nuts. She looked away, clearly marking the hard border she'd c
hosen to create between club business and family.
Brass and Blaze shook hands like two long bartering merchants finally making a deal. There was no smiling, none of the manly pats on the back I'd seen among brothers. It was a wartime alliance, a marriage of convenience, plain and simple. Nothing more.
“I'll have my guys bring that fucking video by and get it copied. We'll have it out to every Grizzlies charter as soon as Throttle gives the okay from Dakota,” Blaze said. “Better to head off the reinforcements to Redding before we've gotta fight 'em. Hope you're right about this shit making the other charters flip on Fang.”
“I am. You read my mind, Blaze.”
They shared a grunt, and then Blaze stepped up, grabbing Saffron and lifting her by the hand. “Come on, baby. Let's get his sidekicks some grub before they head to their rooms for the night.”
“Oh, no,” Saffron said, standing and shaking her head. “I'm not putting my own brother and his old lady up in that crappy lodge. It's a bad place for a little girl too.”
Blaze's eyes bugged out. “What the fuck are you saying, woman? You wanna bring 'em...?”
“The lake house. I knew you'd throw a fit if I said home, so I'm picking the next best thing. Seeing as we're not using it in the off season...”
“Jesus Christ.” Blaze pushed a hand through his spiky hair, going red in the face, as if he was trying to hold in a hurricane.
“Fuck. All right!” He turned to Brass. “You're welcome to stay at our favorite vacation spot. Might be safer anyway if any of the fucks from your club come milling around. Just don't –“
“I know how to behave myself, brother-in-law. I'll be a good boy. You don't need to worry about the girls neither. These ladies are always on their best behavior. I wouldn't dream of doing anything that would fuck up the new thing we've got here.”
They shared an icy stare. Finally, Blaze shook his head, growling as he threw up his arms and headed for the bar.
“Shit!” Saffron gave Brass an apologetic look and ran after him. “Let's get some fucking food, and then I want them outta my damned sight. There'll be time to play catch up with your bro and his chick after the heavy shit's over.”
