Page 75 of Whispers of Fire

On the 30th? No.

I fuckin' can't.

That’s Rose's wedding.

When I should save her from this fuckin' shit show.

“Ares.” I swallow hard cause it’s the first time I’m doing this kind of thing.

“What? Got a tea party to attend?” He lifts a brow.

“I can't that day. Got a thing,” I say, clenching my jaw.

Fuck, since when have I ever argued an order?

I’m used to talk to him and brainstorm together, but I don’t fuck with his command.

I’m the VP, not the prez.

“A thing? You mean your Mormon neighbor chick?” His eyes narrow on me.

“Yeah.” How can I tell him that I need to save her for a guy who fuckin' buys guns from the club? Ares won't have it. It’s always been club matters over women for him.

“Spill it out, Vox, for fuck’s sake.” He punches the bag.

“She's being forced to marry Alexander Skarn, the leader of the cult she's in.”

“Alexander Skarn? Skarn? Fuck, you mean our client for the last three years? You mean the guy who made us 450K last year?”

“Himself. He's a fuckin' asshole, Ares, he's gonna rape her and I can't fuckin' stand there and watch.” My brain fights the idea, barely preventing my fist from ending in the wall next to us.

“Well, you won't have to cause you'll be in Seattle.” He shrugs a shoulder.

“No, I won't.” Ares' gaze snaps and fire fills his pupils.

“The fuck ya think ya doing, Vox?” Anger spills out of him. “You THINK I'm gonna let you fuckin’ waste your time for a chick when Skarn makes us good fuckin’ money every year? I need you in Seattle. Get your shit together, Vox, for fuck’s sake. It's an MC club, not a fuckin' romcom!” he shouts before punching the bag again.

I don't say anything back, cause there’s no use. I know what he's asking me. And the thing is, I know he won't like my answer.

The club or my angel.

Don’t even need a fuckin’ sec to know what matters the most between the two.

-

I spend the rest of the day in my office, working on the accounts of the Seattle warehouse. It'll need some straining out, can't see shit in those books. When I'm done, I mount my bike and head to her location on the surveillance app. It's around 6pm and she's still at the Institute. Wish I could give her a ride home.

Home.

Not my house.

Ours.

Fuck, I wish I could say that without it being a dumb fantasy.

I park at the corner of the street, concealed behind a few cars with my black gear and my helmet on. I wait for her, not givin’ a shit about how long I'll have to stay here waitin’ in the shadows as the sun starts to set.

Lots of strangely dressed folks are heading out of the building. Girls wearin’ the exact same dresses Rose always has on. They all wear braids too. From here, they all look the fuckin’ same.

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