Page 7 of Blood of Vengeance

“Don’t ever fucking touch her, Zed.”

The larger brother—Zed—didn’t back down. “Fuck you, Flinch. How ’bout asking her what she means. Are you saying someone did something to Chiggy?”

I nodded, catching the ice-blue eyes of the man they called Flinch as he turned to watch me. “If my dreams are right, yes. Someone murdered him.”

The growls that filled the room sent the hairs on my neck rising, but I held my ground. I couldn’t show fear around shifters. My dad had definitely taught me that rule. Along with a couple others.

Never come unannounced.

Never trust a shifter.

And never show them you’re afraid.

With my dad dead, his lessons were all I had to keep me safe. That, and the beast named Flinch, who stood between me and his brothers. For the moment, at least. Because one other thing about motorcycle clubs and shifters my dad had taught me sang loud and clear in my memories.

Riders will always choose their brothers over everything else.

Which meant, eventually…I’d be expendable.

I needed to figure out what had happened to my dad before that came true.

Four

Flinch

I’d cleaned up a murder that hadn’t been thought through or planned out, the fates had decided to fuck me over by tossing my mate—a woman who had shown up at the club with nothing more than a backpack and a little hope to figure out what had happened to her father—right in my lap, and we had a motorcycle club with a dead president.

This fucking day.

“That’s it,” I said, giving each one of my brothers a dead-eyed stare to make sure they knew I meant business. “Executive team meeting. Now.”

The men who ran the club nodded and began heading for the war room, while the regular members grumbled. Everyone would eventually have to be involved with what needed to happen next, but too many mouths fighting for words would create a fucking mess instead of a plan. We needed to keep things small.

And I needed to keep an eye on my new mate.

“You’re coming with me.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her along beside me, not giving her the chance to argue. Her skin burned under my touch, soft and pliable and delicate even as it set me on fire. Super-soft. I felt like a damn monster gripping her like I was, so I relaxed my hold. All that did was give her the opportunity to pull away. To stop following me.

“Stop dragging me around.” She stood Peter-Pan-style with her hands on the swell of her hips. Inviting me to look. To feel. To take a bite. She also looked about ready to try to kick my ass. A motherfucking bunny rabbit trying to look like a pit bull. “I just came to figure out what happened to Chiggy.”

“And that’s what we’re going to discuss.” I grabbed her again—gentler this time, because fuck me, my inner wolf might lose his shit if I hurt her—and led her through the bar area and into the back of the club. The darkness of the hallway only made me think about all the naughty things I could do to her in the shadows. Not that I would—not in the club. Plenty of brothers enjoyed putting on a show for the others, but not me. Especially not with my mate. The only person seeing her taking my cock would be me and her.

Fuck, that made me realize I should buy one of those big floor mirrors for my bedroom. For later. Much later. I didn’t have time to think of that at the moment.

“In here.” I directed her through a doorway before following and closing the door behind me. Past the president’s office sat a large conference room with a long table, some really uncomfortable office chairs on wheels, and a couple of recliners. I plopped her thick ass in one of the latter and pulled an office chair beside it, pretty much blocking her from the rest of the men around the table. Cutter raised an eyebrow in my direction when he walked in, but I didn’t budge. I simply stared back at the man, letting my wolf creep to the surface. Making sure he and everyone else knew she was under my protection.

“Change in plans?” he asked as he took a seat near me, keeping his voice low and a little distance between us. Cutter wasn’t one to back down, but he had enough sense to leave me to whatever I had going on. He’d have questions, though. Later. And since he was the current head man in the club, I might actually have to answer them.

“Seems like it,” I said, still watching the door.

The VP let out a sigh and rubbed his temples, eyeing each brother until the last man entered. Until that door had been closed and locked.

“Let’s get to skinning this cat.” Cutter sat a little deeper in his chair, his gaze hard and his energy one of fuck-around-and-find-out. The entire eight-member executive committee wasn’t currently at the bar, so only five men were in the room with Chiggy’s daughter. The five of us could make decisions, though. We had to. “What the fuck do we do about Chiggy?”

Zed, our warlord and the one who led any sort of operation that could end up with dead men on either side, grunted his way into the conversation. “If he’s actually dead, we figure out who killed him and return the favor.”

Preacher, our enforcer, nodded. Our treasurer, Mule, kept his mouth shut—which wasn’t surprising—though I had a feeling he’d pony up some serious resources, both cash and otherwise, if the call was made for it.

Cutter turned my way. “You’re the cleanup man. You got this?”

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