Wirth (Dirty Aces MC Book 5)

by Lane Hart

  I’m really getting sick and tired of people threatening me.

  “Tell me where the fuck he is and who has him or I’ll kill you right here!” he grits out between his clenched teeth.

  I’m not scared of him. I think Hunt was probably more likely to pull the trigger than this man. “If you kill me, then you may never figure out the answers to your questions.”

  That realization has him slamming his gun down on the desk. “What the fuck do you want? Cash? Is this some kind of extortion?” he asks.

  “I don’t want your money. All I want is to work out a truce with you.”

  “A truce?” he repeats. “With whom? I didn’t know we were at war with anyone.”

  “Cut the shit,” I tell him. “We know it was you who shot up the Knights’ bar the other night. You nearly killed three of our men, and now we have one of yours. If you don’t stop lying out your ass, then we’ll wipe you all out by the end of the week!”

  “You’d like to think so,” he grumbles.

  “I know so.” I don’t know shit, but I can pretend I do. Most likely, the Dirty Aces do have more men since we called in all of our chapters.

  “So, what would this truce of yours mean for the Irish?”

  “It would mean you would leave the former Knights of Wrath, now the Dirty Aces, the fuck alone. They’re not leaving town no matter how badly you want them to.”

  “Then we still have a problem,” Cormac says.

  “Yeah, you have a problem. Your guy Rian’s life is hanging by a thread, and your entire crew is about to become extinct. Looks like you’re going to do whatever the hell I say, doesn’t it?”

  His dark green eyes blaze with anger. “If I don’t get rid of the Knights or Aces or whatever the fuck they are now, then there won’t be anything left of the Irish once they take all of our business away from us!”

  “What business? Because I don’t see the problem with having two places to drink when they’re not even in the same block. You guys are across town from each other.”

  “Not the bar!” he exclaims. “Heroin.”

  “Heroin?” I repeat in surprise. “Jesus Christ. This has all been about heroin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re a fucking idiot,” I tell him, causing his jaw to tick. “If you had just asked, we would’ve told you that the Knights are getting out of heroin after it killed their old president. It was a condition for us to patch them over to Aces!”

  “Bullshit,” he says, eyes narrowed in disbelief.

  “It’s the truth! We don’t deal in that shit. The only thing we touch is weed and speed.”

  “That’s all?” he says. “Just weed and speed, even in Wilmington?”

  “In all of our chapters, so yes, that includes Wilmington now.”

  “Then I guess that solves our…rift with the Knights, once you give me my man back,” he declares.

  “Not so fast. You drew blood from three of our men. One is permanently maimed with a missing ear, one took a shot to the shoulder, and the other got shot twice and still isn’t on his feet yet. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t die from infection!”

  Lowering his eyes to the paperwork on his desk, he nods and says, “So you want blood for blood?”

  “That’s the only thing that will calm down the former Knights and the rest of the Aces.”

  “And that blood is going to cost Rian his life?”

  “Not necessarily,” I tell him, hoping that Rian is still alive and none of the guys have put a bullet through his head yet. If so, this is all for nothing. There will probably still be a war with the Irish. And Maeve, well, I don’t think she would ever recover from losing her brother. “How about we let you decide?”

  “I get to decide who you get to kill?” he grits out.

  “I didn’t say anyone had to die. I said blood is owed for blood. That’s the only way to even the score. It’s not like I’m asking for three of your men to make up for the three of ours you shot.”

  “Just one?”

  “If you’ll agree to one man taking a bullet from the president of the original Dirty Aces, then I think I could convince them to back off and let Rian go alive.”

  “You think? Do they even know you’re here? Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m Wirth Wright, one of the original Aces. If you agree, I’ll try like hell to convince them to honor the truce. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come here alone risking my own life.”

  He pulls his chair up to the desk and takes a seat in it. “Then I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

  “Nope.”

  With a heavy sigh, he sticks out his arm for me to shake his hand. When I walk over to take it, he says, “I give you my word. We’ll leave the Knights alone if they do the same and return our man in exchange for me taking one bullet.”

  “You’re gonna take it?” I say in surprise as I drop his hand. “What if you die?”

  “The truth is, I’m just filling in for Rian,” he admits. “His family has led our people in the states for decades. After his father died, I took over until Rian was old enough to learn the ropes.”

  “You think he’s old enough now?”

  “Guess he’ll have to be, won’t he?” Cormac asks.

  I’m not sure how Maeve will feel about that. Is that the reason she was trying to convince her brother to leave, not just to avoid getting caught in the crossfire but so that he wouldn’t have to be in charge? At least if he’s leading, he’ll have men protecting him rather than be a grunt.

  “If the pub’s number is listed, I’ll call your bartender out front when I know more,” I tell him, and he nods his head in agreement.

  “Hurry up!” he shouts when I start to leave. And I don’t think he said it to be a dick but because he’s honestly worried they could kill Rian.

  I am too, which is why I hop on my bike and ride to Malcolm’s old house as fast as I can possibly go while making sure the Irish aren’t following me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Maeve

  After trying to find a way out of the bedroom and realizing the windows weren’t going to open and that there’s nothing in the room to break them with, I give up and lay down on the bed.

  I’m trying my best to not think about what the men are doing to Rian, what Wirth could be doing to Rian, even though I can hear the occasional thump and strangled curse.

  A few stray tears drip down over my nose and hit the bedding when I think about how stupid I was to trust him. He told me to call Rian to come over before he touched me. He had a plan that whole time he was kissing me and inside of me. I don’t think anyone has ever hurt me so badly. Well, at least not anyone that wasn’t a relative. My father and Rian damaged me enough. That’s why I’ve never been in a serious relationship with a man, because I know it would end with having my heart broken. And while Wirth and I weren’t even close to being together as a couple, I thought he cared about me enough to not manipulate me or go after my brother.

  When the bedroom door handle jiggles like someone’s on the other side unlocking it, I pop right up into a sitting position, waiting to see who it is.

  I wasn’t expecting Hunt, although I guess I should have.

  It’s only the second time I’ve seen him since the night the bar was attacked. The side of his face is still red and raw with a bandage over his ear. That’s all the time I have to assess him before he shuts the door behind him and then he’s on me. His fingers wrap around my throat and squeeze, pulling me off the bed. I struggle to get my feet on the floor before I pass out from a lack of oxygen.

  His eyes are dark and empty when he says, “If it were up to me, you and your brother would both be dead already. Nothing is worse than being betrayed by a goddamn whore!”

  Even though his hand is hurting my throat, making me gasp, I’m relieved to know Rian is still alive after all.

  The edges of my vision are starting to go black when Hunt finally releases me. I fall to my knees, thankful he let me go and d
idn’t kill me yet. My fingers try and smooth the ache on the outside of my neck, and I have to clear my throat a few times before I can finally speak. “I’m sorry,” I tell him honestly. “You do…what you have to…for family.”

  Grabbing my chin roughly between his finger and thumb, he forces my head back to look up at him. “Exactly,” Hunt says. “Which is why you’re lucky to still be breathing.”

  From the look on his face, I can tell he’s still not convinced he shouldn’t end me right here and now. But thankfully, the bedroom door opens and the pretty guy with jet black hair is filling it.

  “Let her go,” he orders Hunt. The furious man releases my chin but then his palm hauls back and slaps the shit out of the side of my face. “Enough, Hunt! Let’s go. Wirth’s called a meeting.”

  Just hearing his name stings more than my burning cheek.

  “Coming,” Hunt says, finally turning away and leaving me on the floor to stomp past the guy holding the door open.

  “You okay?” he asks, his voice and his handsome face sounding sincere.

  “Yeah. I’m just fucking awesome,” I tell him sarcastically when I grab the side of the bed to pull myself up to my feet.

  “Stay here. I don’t think it’ll be much longer,” he says before leaving. I hear the lock turn from the outside, and then I’m a lonely, miserable prisoner again.

  Wirth

  “What the fuck was Hunt doing in there with Maeve?” I go ask Devlin in a frantic rush.

  “She’s fine. He just slapped her around a little,” he says. “Nothing she didn’t deserve.”

  That’s easy for him to say. I wonder what he would think about an angry man being alone with Jetta.

  Except, Jetta would never be a traitor to the MC or betray Devlin.

  Fuck. Nothing is ever simple.

  “What’s going on, man?” Malcolm asks when everyone is gathered in the kitchen – all the original Aces, except for Fiasco, and the old Knights.

  Maeve will have to wait. Right now, I need to convince ten men to put aside their pride and egos to prevent going to war with the Irish.

  “I’ve worked out a truce with Cormac, the guy leading the Irish,” I explain.

  “You did what now?” Malcolm exclaims.

  “I went and talked to him, trying to figure out what his problem was,” I say, noticing that Rian, who is still seated in a kitchen chair in the middle of the floor with a swollen lip and eye but is otherwise no worse for wear, suddenly looks very interested in our conversation.

  “Are you fucking insane?” Nash asks me. “You could’ve been killed!”

  “I went in unarmed to talk, that’s it,” I assure them, and Rian seems the most relieved. “Apparently the Irish were under the impression that the Knights were still dealing heroin. They were concerned about the competition. I assured them that the Knights gave up heroin as part of their agreement to join the Dirty Aces. That is true, isn’t it?” I ask Hunt.

  “Well, ah,” he rubs the back of his neck. “We’re still…transitioning.”

  “What the fuck do you mean you’re ‘transitioning’?” Malcolm turns on him to ask. “We had an agreement.”

  “We haven’t sold any in Wilmington,” Hunt says. “We’re just unloading the rest of our supply back in Fayetteville.”

  “I don’t care if you have to flush it down the toilet. I want that shit gone today!” Malcolm shouts at him. “Either it goes, or you go.”

  “Fine, fine,” Hunt agrees. “I’ll make a call, and it’ll be done.”

  “Good,” I say. “And that means there’s only one other thing left to deal with.”

  “What’s that?” Silas asks.

  “Cormac’s agreed to make amends for the shooting by taking a bullet himself,” I explain.

  “What? No!” Rian yells. “He can’t do that! Shoot me instead!”

  Malcolm and the guys look from the boy to me with their brows raised in question. “Cormac was pretty adamant that he wanted it to be him and not Rian.”

  “That’s ridiculous! He’s in charge. He can’t do this!” Rian declares.

  “He said you were actually supposed to be the man in charge, once you decide to be a man,” I tell him and the others.

  “I’m not ready!” Rian says.

  “Obviously,” Malcolm mutters to him before turning his attention back to me. “So that’s it. The Knights give up heroin, Cormac takes a bullet, and all is well in Wilmington?”

  “That’s it,” I agree.

  “Huh,” Dev says. “If it was that fucking easy, why didn’t the Irish just talk to us before?”

  “That’s what I said,” I reply. “Guess they assumed the worst. From what I gather, they had an antagonistic relationship with the Knights.”

  “I still can’t believe you went alone to negotiate,” Nash says with a shake of his head. “You’ve got balls of steel, man.”

  “And I’m guessing he’s also got a dick of steel if he’s willing to go to all this trouble for a woman,” Malcolm says with a chuckle. “She nearly got us all killed!”

  “I know,” I tell him. “But so did these assholes, and you voted to let them in.” I point to Hunt and his crew.

  “Touché,” Malcolm replies. “So, when do we meet?”

  “Tonight at seven at the pier?” I suggest. “There are no cameras and shouldn’t be much of a crowd.”

  “Set it up,” Malcolm agrees.

  “Take me with you!” Rian begs. “I’ll change Cormac’s mind.”

  “What are we going to do with our captives?” Dev asks.

  “Leave them here with you and Silas until the deal is done?” I offer.

  “You good with that, Dev? Silas?” Malcolm asks the two men.

  “Yeah,” Devlin agrees.

  “Sure thing, prez,” Silas says. “As long as you take at least one of the other chapters with you to have your back.”

  “Will do,” Malcolm agrees. To Silas, he tips his chin toward Rian and says, “Now that we’re done with him, you can lock him in the bedroom with his sister.”

  “Will do,” Silas responds.

  “You coming with me?” our president asks.

  “Hell yes. I set this up, so I want to be there to make sure it goes off without a hitch,” I tell him.

  “Good. Now I’ve got a few hours to decide where to shoot the bastard.”

  “Please don’t! Take me!” Rian pleads as Silas and Dev pick up his chair and carry it and him to the bedroom.

  “What’s that about?” Malcolm whispers.

  “I have no idea,” I tell him as I watch the men disappear into the room and try to get a glimpse of Maeve. I know she doesn’t want to see me, and I fucking hate it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Maeve

  “Rian! You’re okay!” I say when I shoot off the bed to go see him.

  Two men slam the chair he’s attached to down and then leave, quickly closing the door behind them.

  My brother’s face is pretty messed up, but he’s alive and can recover from a few superficial wounds. What worries me is that he’s also distraught. His eyes are glassy, and it looks like he’s hurting. Maybe the pain is worse than it looks. He could have some internal injuries.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask when I kneel in front of him. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “We need to leave! We can’t let them…” he chokes up, throwing his head back like he’s trying to find the words.

  “Can’t let them what?” I ask. “Did they…are they going to kill you?” I ask as an invisible rope seems to tighten around my throat, right where Hunt’s hands were squeezing before.

  “No, not me! Cormac!” Rian shouts.

  “Cormac? How did he get involved?”

  “One of the bikers, the guy who answered your door, went and worked out a truce with him earlier.”

  “Wirth worked out a truce?” I say in surprise.

  “Cormac agreed to it, but he’s going to take a bullet from them to even the score! Why the fuck
would he do that? Why can’t it be me or anyone else?”

  “I-I don’t know,” I reply as I try to figure out what this all means. “So, you’re safe?” I say to be sure I have it right.

  “Yes,” he whispers, his head now hanging. “But Cormac…” he chokes up and can’t finish his sentence.

  Did Wirth work all of this out to save Rian? That doesn’t make any sense since he’s the one who had him dragged here in zip ties! He was probably just trying to avoid any more bloodshed from his friends, the other bikers. God, I really wish I knew what was going on out there!

  “I love him, Maeve.”

  It takes several seconds for Rian’s random words to sink in because I’m so lost in my own head.

  “Who do you love? Cormac?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, I know you do. He’s been like a father…” I start but Rian shakes his head and interrupts.

  “No, Maeve. I’m in love with him.”

  I’m in love with him.

  Those are the last five words I expected to hear from my brother’s mouth because he’s so young and inexperienced…

  “Oh,” I mutter and then slap my palm over my still gaping mouth in understanding. “You and Cormac have…you’re…”

  “Gay.” Rian’s eyes are closed tight as if it’s so painful to say the word that he can’t look at me while speaking it. “I’ve never admitted that out loud before,” he adds. When I go quiet, coming to terms with what this all means, and being so caught by surprise, Rian gets nervous and impatient. “Say something, Maeve!”

  “Oh, well, ah…” I don’t seem to be able to combine enough words for a coherent thought. After all this time, I can’t believe my brother kept this from me! Did he think I would care? That I wouldn’t love him if he told me his secret? That couldn’t be further from the truth. So, I try to figure out what to say to reassure him. There’s only one thing I can think about. The poor thing. What if it’s one-sided and he gets his heart broken? After all, Cormac is known for being a player, going through women like crazy. Does he go through men the same way?