Page 90 of Tempting Fate

“All right… have it your way,” I concede. “I think Brutus is up to somethin’… ’cause he’s at the epicentre of everythin’ that’s gone down. The Bishops snatched Fret from right under our noses—the only way he could’ve got outta the gates was with his father’s okay. Brutus set up the meetin’ with the Maddison’s, but we were never told the details, and there was no vote on it. Then when his son was shot literally in our driveway, Brutus did nothin’. He just stood there. I ordered an ambulance be called. I made the decision for Slash and Toker, and the enforcers to make chase. Me and Lily worked to keep Fret alive while Brutus just watched us.”

Glaring at Angelis, who appears on the cusp of storming off, I ask, “When Joseph rocked up at the gates without a warrant, who made the call to let him inside?”

“Brutus.” The word hangs heavy between us. After taking a few seconds, whereby Angelis stares at the ground and scuffs his boot through the gravel, he finally adds. “He took a call about five minutes before they arrived, disappeared out the front, and screamed at anyone who tried to accompany him to leave him alone. Next thing, Joseph was inside the clubhouse.” Slash’s father clears his throat twice, then drops his attention to the ground. “Brutus was nowhere to be seen while we were all cable tied and lined up against the wall in the bar by the cops. Joseph went strollin’ toward your bedroom with nary a question or a glance our way.”

“How did Gabriel know we needed him?”

“Cub swiped my phone outta my pocket and opened up a call to Gabriel so he could hear the commotion.”

“If he hadn’t done that,” Gabriel offers. “Both you and little Cherub would probably be locked up now.”

“Most likely only me if she’d kept her mouth shut.”

At the reminder of the confession Lily blurted out to Joseph, I jam my hands in the longer hair at the top of my head and tug. My woman’s loose lipped confession that she shot Alex is taking on an even darker tone the more we deconstruct the situation.

Did she save me from being arrested by making herself a target?

Since I don’t have the spare mental capacity to deal with that worry now, I decide to air my final suspicion instead. “The Bishops clubhouse is what… twenty to twenty-five minutes from here?’

“Twenty tops,” Slash agrees, then he grumbles, “don’t do it,” under his breath when he sees where I’m looking.

“Isaiah,” I call out to the prospect who’s hanging out on the roof. “Come down here.”

With his weapon strapped across his body and one hand holding it so it doesn’t bounce too much, he climbs down the stairs then jogs over to us. The look on Gabriel’s face at the sight of his son in a Shamrocks cut almost makes me regret my choice to involve him.

The cold war between the two shows no signs of defrosting.

It’s been a year and a half since Isaiah’s hangaround period began.

Nearly four months since he was given his bottom rocker.

Yet, his father, the man who’s helped us out of more legal scrapes than I can count, refuses to forgive his son for going against his wishes, despite the fact Isaiah is only following his long-declared dream. His son is proving to be a quiet but solid force within the club. He’s got the makings of a future leader. That doesn’t seem to placate Gabriel. He’s got a bee in his bonnet about Isaiah joining us, which makes little sense. Lily’s boss is not an unreasonable man, however, we know from experience that when he digs his heels in, nothing will sway him except time.

I respect Gabriel.

Wouldn’t normally push the issue.

But Lily’s at risk and my club is crumbling, so their personal matters have to take a back seat.

“Tell these three what you told me about Brutus losing his shit after the ambulance left.”

“Oh, okay,” Isaiah replies, narrowing his eyes as if he’s thinking hard. “He didn’t lose it when the ambulance departed. It was, maybe, ten minutes later… probably forty or so minutes after you guys left.” He jerks his chin toward Slash. “He took a call. It set him off somethin’ fierce, and we couldn’t calm him down. Sent Cub to get Venom, and seein’ Venom is what finally stopped him.”

“I came outside at the same time the enforcers returned,” I expand on Isaiah’s conjecture. “They were pullin’ in as I was gettin’ the lowdown on the Brutus situation. Before I could do anythin’, he turned on Slash and didn’t stop until I called him out.”

“That’s true,” our prospect agrees. “No matter what stopped it or started it, it was like someone had flipped a switch… nothing like his usual slow burn, then boom, he explodes over something tiny. One minute, he was overseeing the tidy up, helping us clear away any traces of the shootin’ in case the cops came, actin’ normal the entire time. Then, he stopped to take a call. He kind of stared at us, almost like he’d lost his train of thought… I was about to ask if he needed anything, but he just exploded. Started breakin’ things. Swingin’ at us when we got too close. He put a dent in the van.” Isaiah gestures to the indentation in the closest vehicle. “It was random. Didn’t make sense.”

“All right.” Angelis claps a hand down on Isaiah’s shoulder. “Thanks for that.”

“If I remember anything else, should I come to you, Venom?”

“Yeah, come to me,” I tell him. “But for now, I need you to go check inside, make sure everyone’s holdin’ up after Fret, ’specially Lily, Wyatt, and Nate?—”

“What’s happened to Fret?” Sander’s voice interjects.

My group falls silent as we swing around to find Sander standing just inside the gates. He’s dressed in his basketball tracksuit with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Carefree, except for the concern that clouds his gaze when no one immediately answers his question, he seems like he belongs to a different lifetime.

So much has happened since he flew out.

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