Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Murphy elbows me and from the corner of my eye, I catch his chin tipping toward the other end of the table. Standing behind Z, Shadow’s watching with a dead-eyed glare.
Well, we knew he was trouble too.
I resume my study of the other brothers. Jigsaw—alert and interested. Rooster, nodding and frowning at the same time. Hustler just looks confused. And after I went over the club’s books this morning, I’m not surprised. Steer’s relaxed against the back of his chair, almost like he’s relieved he wasn’t asked to step from the SAA role into the president’s position.
Now that he’s lobbed the grenade at everyone and given us time to absorb the shock, Priest taps his knuckles against the table to regain our attention. “I hate even saying this, but if at some point it looks like Sway isn’t going to make a full recovery, then we’ll discuss other options.” He glances over and smirks at Rock. “I know Upstate isn’t pleased about losing their VP, so this isn’t a permanent arrangement. Right now,” he adds.
Rock’s expression remains steely and calm, although his eyes narrow slightly. He gives Priest a curt nod but doesn’t respond.
Z flicks his gaze to the ceiling and my chest squeezes. He’s in an awful position.
“Now, even though it’s temporary, we need to make it official,” Priest says, waving his hand at Z for him to stand and approach.
A sick sensation slithers through my stomach. Murphy and I both lean forward.
Priest crooks a finger at Rock, silently asking him to join Z. Blink hands Priest a knife and Priest hands it to Rock.
“Holy shit,” I breathe out.
“You gotta be kidding,” Blake murmurs.
Priest’s message to Rock seems obvious. I call the shots.
Z’s never coming home.
I push the thought away and concentrate on the scene unfolding in front of me, hating every second of it.
Rock doesn’t hesitate. He accepts the knife from Priest without a word. Then neatly slices Z’s VP patch off his cut.
I close my eyes, feeling the imaginary sting of the knife against my own flesh.
This is so wrong.
I was there when Z was given that VP patch. I was still a prospect, so my vote wasn’t counted. But I remember the day well. After all the struggles and hardships our club had gone through, we’d found our way to a true brotherhood. Z’s my brother and one of my best friends. This is excruciating to watch but I sit still because sharing each other’s pain is what brothers do.
Rock hands the patch to Z and says something to him that I can’t hear. Forcing Rock to be the one to take Z’s patch seems like the ultimate fuck you from Priest.
“What the fuck?” Murphy breathes out.
“Congratulations,” Priest announces, as if this is something to celebrate instead of mourn. He slaps a small patch in Z’s hand. Then, to pour salt in our fresh wounds, he hands Z a “Downstate” bottom rocker.
Z stares at his hands for a few seconds.
Everyone in the room stands and claps. Heart pounding, I rise and join them. I catch Wrath’s eye at the other end of the table, and he shakes his head.
The warm welcome from his new charter seems to shake Z out of his shock. His mouth slips into a fake smile. “Thank you for welcoming me with open arms during such an uncertain time. As everyone knows, our two charters go way back, and I’m honored to lead Downstate through this rough patch until Sway recovers.”
Nice try, Z, but you’re going to be wearing a Downstate rocker.
Sway might have taken the bullet to the head, but it’s my club that’s getting torn apart.
CHAPTER TEN
Charlotte
Marcel’s been downstate, helping Z sort through things for weeks while Sway’s in the hospital recovering. I want to be a good ol’ lady, support the club and all that, but I miss him. Heidi and I have gone downstate almost every weekend to spend time with the guys and help Lilly adjust to her new role as the president’s ol’ lady. But now I’m behind on work and need to catch up.
I’m obsessing over my notes for an upcoming trial when the front door to my office opens. My gaze jumps to my calendar. No appointments.
“Sunshine, I’m home!”
“Marcel?” I jump out of my chair and hurry around my desk. I’d kicked off my heels earlier and my tights stick to the carpet as I run.
In the hallway, I stop and stare.
Marcel’s long legs eat up the distance. He crashes into me somewhere in the middle. He lifts me against his body, holding me tight.
“Are you really home for good?” I murmur against his bristly cheek.
“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he whispers. His lips collide with mine. I curl my arms around his neck and melt into him.
“Missed you too,” I whisper. “I hate sleeping without you next to me.”