Page 29 of Owning the Prez’s Ol' Lady

“Damn, Priest, I never took you for a reader,” Axl said in awe.

The house opened up into a massive living room, one that was wall-to-wall covered in books.

“Have you read all of them?” Wasp asked, fingering a few books on the shelf. He went to pick up one on the shelf that was displayed differently from the rest, and was opened to a page that was scribbled over with writing.

Priest quickly closed the book, glaring at Wasp.

“I don’t touch your shit, so don’t touch mine.” His eyes narrowed as Wasp held up his hands in defeat.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Don’t touch your shit. Now, are you going to tell us why we’re here or not?”

Priest took the book with him as he moved across the house, stopping at a computer printer that had a few pieces of paper on it.

He clutched them near his chest, took a glance down the page, then handed them to me.

“Here,” he said.

“What’s this?” I questioned, looking down at the page. It was a map, one that led from Austin to some small town in South Dakota.

Priest’s eyes softened. “Before I tell you, I want you to know that the reason I didn’t tell you before was because I was afraid it would only cause more problems for the club.”

He must’ve seen the synapses of recognition flash in my eyes because he took an immediate step back.

“We all fell for her,” he continued. “And we all ruined her.”

He shot Axl an apologetic look. “This part doesn’t exactly pertain to you, but you’ll see how it all lines up in a moment.”

Axl nodded, but my fists were clenching. He didn’t have to tell me anything. I already felt it in my soul the second I saw the name of the town. Platte.

I clutched the paper in my hands, my glare intensifying as my anger bristled across my backbone. “Priest, what is this?”

“It’s a location.”

He shot Wasp another apologetic look. “Her location.” His head swiveled to glance at Axl. “Their location.”

“Fuck!” Wasp growled. “You mean to tell me that you’ve known where the fuck she’s been this whole time, and you didn’t tell anyone?”

Priest shook his head. “No. Not the whole time. But most of it.”

“How?” I growled, the paper crinkling in my hand.

“Through the car I gave her. I found out she sold it in Kansas after she left Texas. I called the dealership, and after a little monetary coaxing, the salesman told me what the VIN# was of the vehicle he sold her. After a few weeks of digging, I finally found out what town they ended up in. I’m sorry, Snyder, I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you, but I really thought I was doing the club a favor.”

Angry tears bit at my eyes. My fingers clenched that paper until the edges started to cut into my skin.

“Why?”

Priest ran a frustrated hand through his hair, the dark locks getting tangled with the cross ring on his finger. “Because she fucked up the club. Everything went to shit when we all started sharing her. I thought we’d be better off without her.”

My hands connected with his chest, sending him flying backwards into one of his bookshelves. Books fell to the ground, and he groaned as he righted his stance, eyes darkening just a tad.

He could probably fucking kill me, but I didn’t fucking care. He knew where she was the whole time, while he watched me suffer without her. That bastard.

He stood up, rubbing at the place I hit him. “I deserved that.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Priest?” The tic in my jaw only got worse the longer I clenched it.

“Your brother!” he growled. “Someone who was looking out for his fellow brothers the best he fucking could.”

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