Page 169 of Making Choices

Every skerrick of my decade old shame.

My (not-so) secret love for Cherub.

Three admissions that will destroy how my brothers look at me. It’s unlikely they’ll ever see me the same. A complete loss of trust—that’s the best outcome I can hope for.

Everywhere I look, I learn that time is against us.

Against me.

So are the numbers.

The two things we need are the two things we can’t manufacture.

Now that Fret’s been officially stripped of his nomination and returned to his legal moniker, reaching the number of votes needed to legitimately take down Brutus’ faction has been slightly delayed. If we could talk my father as well as Toker and Venom’s dads into choosing a side, the outcome would feel a lot more concrete to me. Unfortunately, Dad and Duke refuse to move beyond their stubborn neutrality until Hades gives them the okay. And Venom’s terminally ill father vehemently refuses to give us his vote until he has “everything in place because he’s tryin’ to minimise the fallout for the pair of them.” When I let go of my handlebars to make air quotes around the proclamation Hades has been beating us over the head with for the past six months, Toker tugs down his sunglasses. He wiggles his eyebrows, and he shoots me a funny look.

I shrug.

He shakes his head.

Rolling on the throttle, I start weaving through the traffic and leave him in my wake. Competitive as ever, my club brother catches up to me as I’m crossing the Stirling Bridge. We ride through the bustling streets toward the industrial area that is home to the compound. As we enter the epicentre of our turf, a group of Harleys join us. I end up leading the way into the yard with Hunter, Cub, and Wyatt, plus my father and Toker’s, and the rest of our faction behind me.

The prospects manning the gates close them behind our contingent. On instinct, I park in my spot, then turn to glare at the arsehole who pulls into Venom’s space next to me. They must have a death wish—a thought that doesn’t change when I realise that it’s actually the rightful owner of the parking spot staring back at me.

“Slash.” Venom’s greeting is little more than a grunt. I incline my head in acknowledgment as he tugs his helmet off. “You ready for this?”

“Was born ready,” I tell him. He offers me a glance that’s filled with scepticism. Scanning his battered face with a deliberate look, I quip, “Welcome back, I guess. Seems like the welcomin’ party was all outta balloons.”

“Real funny.”

“Glad you agree.” Dismounting my Harley, I dismiss him without another word as I head inside with the rest of the new arrivals. In the main bar, preparations are underway for the patching in. “Mumma. Charlie.” The two women smile in greeting, then they bustle back into the kitchen. When my duchess’ best friend pops her head up from behind the bar, I slow my stride. There’s a gleam in her gaze that doesn’t bode well for me. “Nads. Lookin’ shifty as ever.”

“Good morning, Fabio… I hear you had a restful evening,” she retorts with a grin. Before I can respond, the humour in her expression dies. “Well, look what the cat dragged in… fresh roadkill.”

Venom laughs low. “It’s nice to see you again, Nadia.”

She frowns. “Wish I could say the same, but the only nice thing I see is the damage done to your face.” Nadia plants her hands on her hips and cocks her head to one side. “Kinda glad little Cherub put her nails to good use.” Even though Venom scowls at her, the crazy blonde buffs her nails on her shirt as she adds. “Saves me the effort.”

“As nice as this chat’s been, we needa get this meetin’ over and done with.” Venom turns his attention to me. “Not sure how soon Brutus’ll show his face. Cass says he’s been busy behind the scenes but has nothin’ solid in place.”

“Sure.”

I follow him into the chapel. He takes the president’s throne, then hits me with a meaningful look. There is reluctance in my step, but no objection on my tongue as I move toward the VP’s seat. As I awkwardly settle into it, every nerve ending in my body twangs with alarm. The feeling increases as I watch the chapel fill with the club brothers we trust, and they all nod their approval at the sight of me at Venom’s side with Toker taking up my old mantle as the SAA.

Once mine and Toker’s father have slipped into the chapel and closed the double doors behind themselves, Venom brings the gavel down. “I call this special session of church to order.” Silence ensues as every set of eyes locks on him. “Over the past six months, we’ve brought you all on board with our vision for the Shamrocks and put in place a plan of action to solidify this mutual goal.” A titter of agreement breaks the quiet. “Now it’s time to put ya money where your mouth is.” As a murmur of surprise takes hold, he eyeballs each of our club brothers, one by one, until the hush returns. “We’re patching in Isaiah this afternoon, and after that, my father and Cassius will be addressing the club. I don’t know what they have to announce, but they’ve ensured me that it’ll move us forward in our quest to clean up the fuckin’ mess Brutus has made.”

A new set of odds pops into my head at this news.

Is Hades finally ready to spill his guts?

One look at my father tells me not to get my hopes up.

“The main objective of this meetin’, though, is to settle on Isaiah’s road name.”

Venom’s proclamation hangs unanswered as his abrupt change of subject catches everyone by surprise. I swallow deep, suddenly unsure in my position at Venom’s side, let alone certain that I should put forward the proposal that hit me in the early hours of this morning as I licked my wounds in the wake of his well-deserved tongue lashing. Across the room from me, Hunter leans forward to rap his knuckles on the wooden table.

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Permission granted.”

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