Page 32 of Ruthless Son

We were a family first, and when others offered the same deal to help Wheeler keep roofs over his kids’ heads, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that they felt the same way.

Wheeler coughed into his fist and rubbed at his shining eyes which looked suspiciously like the older man did have feelings outside of his dick.

“Damn dusty in here, Prez,” he mumbled.

We turned to our prez, and left Wheeler to deal with his emotions with his pride intact. Ain’t no way a brother wanted us to witness his shame, and it was. Being a man—a Street King—was the ability to provide and protect. And Wheeler was struggling with that, neither did he like the fact that we all knew it.

“You know that I won’t make a new deal with anyone without bringing it to the table for a vote. When the Irish get back to me with a price, you’ll know,” Cal continued, as if the momentum hadn’t been paused by Threads’ generous offer. “And, there’s something else y’all need to know.” Cal tapped his fingers on the table, staring at the digits in concentration as if he was thinking how best to relay whatever it was he wanted us to know. “The Sinners are one of the bigger buyers of Felix’s.” Murmurs of dissent picked up, anger swept around the table. “And Jax has been seen around town.” I inhaled sharply at the news that one of those dipshits were hanging around here, which looked suspiciously like they were bringing the fucked up drugs back home.

Those pricks were a desperate attempt to be a real motorcycle club, but they failed at it terribly. Just because you rode a motorbike with a bunch of guys didn’t make an MC.

“What the fuck are those cunts doing here, they’re based in West Virginia, they shouldn’t be anywhere near our territory,” I growled, a red haze falling over my vision when I thought about those useless excuses for bikers being anywhere near my town.

“I know, Brother. And you’ll get your chance to question them… you and Sly are going to… have a chat.”

Sly turned to me, a manic grin spread across face. “Fuck yeah, Prez.”

“And when I say chat, I actually mean talk to them,” Cal rolled his eyes. “We don’t need to jump to conclusions. That doesn’t mean you can’t scare the living shit outta them and get them the fuck out of our town. They don’t need to be here.”

I shared Sly’s glee at the chance to get some vengeance. We couldn’t jump to conclusions, but I wasn’t a massive believer in coincidence. Neither was it the first time the Sinners had tried to take from us. Jax was a rat, spending his time trying to make a fast buck and it didn’t matter who he screwed over to do it. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been caught trying to sell roofie’s for a good time to some schmuck from out of state at our local bar—the dumb fuck, trying to sell a date rape drug in a Street King bar. I’d had to chase him out of town. I’d followed that fucker straight down the fucking interstate and made sure he’d left the whole fucking state behind.

“We’re gonna have such a good time.” Sly practically wriggled in his seat, his excitement palpable.

“On another note, we have guests.” The rest of my brothers groaned aloud. “That means everyone needs to be on their best behavior.”

“Aw, come on, Prez, why do we gotta behave in front of the princess? Rex just needs to dirty her up a bit and she’ll fit right in… umph.” My elbow landed in Sly’s rib, the man laughing at my display of violence. The man loved to rile everyone up.

“One day, Brother, you’re gonna get your head kicked in for opening your mouth,” I replied, murmurs of agreement reaching my ears and Sly slapped at his chest in mock offense.

“I’m hurt y’all think that, you assholes.” He grinned back.

“Gauge will speak to the little sister about a description of the suit and hopefully by the end of the day we’ll know who the fuck this guy is and what he has to do with us.” Prez picked up the gavel, slamming it down once to end the meeting. “Now get outta here, you’ve got shit to do.”

As I walked out, I grabbed my phone, slid it in my pocket, and caught up with Sly in the main hall. He stood with his back to me beside Sonic, his focus on something in front of him.

“What are you doing? We’re supposed to go…” my voice trailed off when I saw what they were staring at. Mia stood in the center of the room squaring off with Emma. The old whore was practically part of the furniture, and kept the other club sluts in line, but Mia wasn’t a club slut, and there was no way in hell Mia would tolerate the disrespect that Emma was trying to lay on her.

“Are you gonna step in?” Sonic muttered to me.

“Ah, no. If she’s going to stick around, she should put these bitches in their place so they know who they’re dealing with,” I replied quietly, determined not to interrupt the verbal beat down that Mia was currently dishing out. Mia wasn’t club pussy, she was here because I wanted her here, but I couldn't step in and defend her, she needed to do that herself, otherwise the vultures would circle.

And maybe a small part of me was really interested to see what she would do.

Mia

I stretched languidly, my arms extending outward, almost knocking a lamp off a side table. “What the hell?” I muttered, looking around through sleep-crusted eyes. This wasn’t the motel. Millie slept soundly beside me, her hair covering her face and her mouth open in her slumber, a line of drool trickled out of her open lips. She’d always been an inelegant sleeper. She was legally an adult, but sometimes, like now when she was passed out and stuck in dreamland, I wondered how the hell she managed to survive in this harsh world.

Last night’s events came rushing back, and Margot’s sightless eyes were prominent in my memories. Slapping my hand against my cheek, I knocked the impression away, determined not to relive that horrible moment, especially before I’d had coffee.

My clothes were a rumpled mess where I’d fallen straight into bed, and feeling around the knots and tangles, I got the idea that my hair was a bird’s nest. The perks of having such pin-straight hair was that I could wash it and leave it to dry naturally, falling dry into a perfect fall of silkiness. The downside, it was so fine that it constantly tangled and twisted itself together as if it had a mind of its own, and only a good strong detangling brush would do it justice.

Without any of my things, I had to make do with just tying the whole thing at the top of my head in a messy bun—with emphasis on the messy—and walked out to find someone who could help me navigate what my day, and the coming week, would look like. Because I needed my things, and I wasn’t going the whole day without having a shower and putting clean clothes on. I still had on the same underwear as yesterday and it was not something that I felt comfortable with.

The hallway was empty, doors flung open to reveal vacant rooms. Where the hell is everyone?

Following the low rumble of voices, I found myself in a main hall. I remembered this part from last night, but I hadn’t got a good look at it. The large TV was set on CNN, the subtitles rolling across the screen. The voices were coming from some women sitting on the couches in front of it.

“Hi, good morning.” I waved at the two women, who craned their necks around to shoot me with black looks, their eyes cutting as they swept their fully made-up eyes over my disheveled self. My experience with Jenna and the men here had created a blanket of friendliness, and that had just been pulled out from beneath me, my feet hitting the ground hard with the reality that not everyone here was nice, judging by their sharp glances.

---