Page 62 of Blood of Vengeance

I agreed. “Rush mentioned that. Said he might call in a brother for backup if they left the house.”

Cutter pulled out his phone, typing quickly. “I’ll send Diesel over as backup.”

“We’ve asked Mule to find a witch for Zella.”

Cutter’s sharp eyes stabbed into me, his frown intense. “You think that’s the best idea?”

“I think those old hags in the hills know more about healing than any human doctor ever born.”

He grunted. “Does she know?”

“Fuck no. I don’t even think she knows about us, let alone witch healers.”

He flipped his phone a few times before pocketing it, his agitation clear. “Every fucking guy in that room last night knew she was sick.”

Yeah, they would have. That scent was unmistakable. “Yes.”

“They’ll see her as weak.” He glared at me, the unfuckwithable leader back in place. The man who saw everyone but brothers as blood bags probably realigning his loyalty right there in the parking lot. “If you hear even a word about a brother coming for her?—”

My own growl cut him off. “That’s my mate’s best friend. They’re practically sisters, which makes Zella family. No one is fucking with my family.”

Cutter held out his fist and took the bump I gave him with a nod. “Same, brother. I’ve got you covered.”

Which meant he had Locklyn’s back. Something I already knew but would always bring me at least a little relief hearing from a man like Cutter.

“Our women are going to be the end of us,” I said, half joking and half…well, not.

Cutter chuffed, more wolf than man in that moment. “But we’ll die fucking happy, won’t we.”

No doubt.

Conversation done and guidelines set, Cutter led the way into the building. The place reeked of smoke and beer, a sign there’d been a good party the night before. As was the stickiness of the floor. Motherfucker, I hated early morning meetings primarily for that reason. I’d have to wash off my boots before I left.

“Cleaners coming this morning?” I asked.

“About ten. Don’t worry—I pulled out the boot cleaner and have it set up at the entrance to the conference room.” He looked down, glaring at the floor. “How the fuck does this get so sticky?”

“Some of the brothers are fucking children and can’t hold their beers.” We made it to the conference room door and, just as he’d said, the boot cleaner sat at the entrance. He sprayed a degreaser on the soles of his boots then rubbed them back and forth over the rolling bristles, stepping inside only once both feet were clean. I followed suit, making sure to get the sides as well. Grunting in satisfaction when I took a few steps in and didn’t feel any residual tackiness.

“Ready for this?” I asked once I had settled into my usual seat.

Cutter nodded, dropping into his chair. “Sure the fuck am.”

“You’ve got my vote.”

“Appreciate it, brother. Let’s hope the others feel the same.”

The rest of the executive team filtered into the room, each taking the time to use the boot scrubber under the watchful eye of Cutter. No one needed directions, though this wouldn’t have happened with Chiggy. He hadn’t given a fuck over such small details. Cutter obviously did, and that scrubber—that need to keep the party debris out of the executive room—was the first sign of a very big change coming up.

Zed walked in last, eyeing the boot scrubber as if it were an alien life-form before spraying the cleaner and getting down to it. He scrubbed his boots well then kicked the device to the side, shutting the door behind him. He gave a simple nod to let us know we were ready to begin before dropping into his chair.

Meeting time.

“I’m going to keep this short and sweet, gentlemen,” Cutter said. “Now that Chiggy’s been honored appropriately, we need to begin thinking about the future of the Hellions. In that vein, I am informing this team that I will be seeking votes for the president spot.”

“You know we, as the executive team, can just assign the role to you, right?” Banger said with a heavy, furrowed brow. “There’s no need for a full club vote after the death of an executive member.”

“I’m aware, my friend. But I feel like Chiggy got his spot with a vote, and I got mine from him. If I want to lead these men, I need to make sure they want me in the head chair. So we go to a vote.” He looked around the room, eyeing the team that had been appointed by Chiggy. The ones who would soon need to follow him. “I want to be sure I have my executive team on board before I take this to the members. Anyone got beef they want to talk about while we’ve got some privacy?”

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