Page 36 of Seizing Control: Part One

“Shut the fuck up,” I retort. My right leg bounces as I whirl around to face him. “I don’t need you remindin’ me what’s at stake.”

“Can the outrage.” Brutus’ twin scoffs. He leans back in his seat and folds his hands over his gut. Ever the chaplain, his tone is pious as he says, “You left her before the shit hit the fan. Can’t blame my brother for everythin’.”

“Speakin’ of your brother... where did you end up last night?”

“Nowhere.”

“Harrumph,” I snort. “You sure left in a hurry to go nowhere.”

“My business is mine, not yours,” Cass snarks back at me. He sniffs as he runs his gaze over my face before his attention lingers on the vice president patch on my cut. “We both know Brutus’ got somethin’ up his sleeve. He wouldn’t call an impromptu meetin’ between you and Cherub for nothin’—”

“We stick to the plan,” I interject. “No if, buts, or maybes.”

Unlike last night when he was outwardly on board, Cassius doesn’t seem as convinced.

“What if we?—”

“I said no ifs.”

Everything hinges on Cassius and his secret son. It’s been deemed too risky to expect the club to accept me as president once I’ve outed Brutus’ scheme to ally us with the Maddison clan, so we created a back-up. Despite my dad’s ongoing protests, I’ve upheld my end of that bargain. I’ll delay fulfilling my legacy longer than I already have to give the old timers leeway to accomplish their part of the plan. Unfortunately, Lily’s uncle is already spiralling, so it’s up to me to stop him from backing out completely.

“Don’t forget, you needa record everythin’ you can. It’s the only way we can prove how fucked up Brutus is to the other chapters. They can’t revolt if we have irrefutable evidence in his own voice.”

“What if we…” Cassius goes to protest again, but is forced to trail off when Lily enters the chapel. “Cherub. Venom. I’ll leave you two to talk.”

When we don’t respond, he clears his throat, smiles at his niece, then grunts and groans as he pulls himself out of his seat. Most of the old timers are still healing from the injuries they sustained when a truck mowed them down on their way to manufactured emergency at the Inadale chapter six months ago, yet none of them will take a step back.

I respect their determination, even as I resent their lack of agility.

Cassius pulls the doors shut behind him.

The soft thud as they close is a death knell.

Waves of enmity flow from my sweet thing as she settles herself into the same chair she used the last time we found ourselves alone in the chapel. That was the day of the funerals, when we laid three of my club brothers to eternal rest, the same afternoon Brutus decided to leave his self-imposed exile and take back the gavel of the club he’d betrayed.

One prospect. One ally. One turncoat.

Rider. Weston. Tank.

It was a shit-show.

I’d reiterated my vow to leave Lily as part of my deal with Brutus to keep her out of jail.

She’d done her best to stay strong in the face of my cynical dismissal of our love.

That day, witnessing the hope Lily held that I’d change my mind hurt like hell.

Watching her run away from me like I was the villain broke me.

Yet, I’d suffer through that scenario a million times over if it meant I could escape the bitter disconnect with which she observes me as I take the seat opposite her. There’s a dull edge to her normally sharp gaze. Lily sees me, yet I swear she’s looking through me. The detachment she displayed last night when I trapped her on top of the dresser remains readily apparent. There’s an emptiness in her eyes as she tracks my movements across the wide table that tightens my chest to the point of pain.

I settle into the seat opposite her.

Lily sniffs, then rolls her eyes.

Rubbing the centre of my chest, I ask, “What?”

My question makes metukà shelì smirk. “We’ve chosen the same seats as the last time.”

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