Page 34 of His Loyal Rebel

Priest slid a pack of smokes toward him. He took a seat, set down the bottle, and grabbed a book of matches off the center of the table.

"You might've noticed you were left alone on your way here." Priest set an ashtray in front of Whip. "I called in a favor. For now, the police aren't actively looking for you."

"That's not a guarantee." He exhaled harshly.

Knowing Cusclan got the upper hand on someone from the police department put doubt in his head that Tarkio could contain the problem and protect him.

"No, it's not." Priest exhaled slowly. "Those damn guns Cusclan took away from Moroad Motorcycle Club made them twice as powerful."

"Never thought I'd say it, but I wish the Moroad members were out of prison and could give Cusclan a run for their money to take back the weapons." He took another swig off the bottle. "I imagine the power has shifted on the inside of the prisons. Is there anything we can do to keep Cusclan busy? Maybe contact those in the Montana State pen? Or, have them spread info into Idaho?"

"I'll see if I can get a visit in with Walker tomorrow."

Walker was Tarkio's point of contact, doing twenty-five years for murder. He was the eyes, ears, and mouth to the other Tarkio members who found themselves sitting in a cell, doing time.

Whip stood, knocking the chair backward. "The best thing we can do is blow up the Cusclan clubhouse. At least take half the fuckers out."

"You need to give yourself—"

"Time? Jesus Christ, they killed my parents. They would've killed my sister if she hadn't shot them." He threw the bottle of whiskey against the wall. "If Twyla gets hurt, that's in my head, man. That's another person who falls to Cusclan. I'm not going to let that happen."

"She's tied to Big."

"Bullshit." He kicked the chair out of his way. "She's young, trying to make it out on her own and got behind on bills. She moved in with him because she was trying to save money."

"Are you telling me they weren't fuck—?"

"Yeah, they were. But, Twyla only put up with him for a month before leaving him." His chest tightened.

Her reasons for being with Big sounded messed up at the time, and it'd taken him a while to remember what it was like when he was younger. Back when his parents were alive, and he was a recent patched in member with Tarkio. He'd done more than his fair share of stupid shit.

Hell, he thought he was invincible. No one could hurt him, and he'd live forever.

It'd taken a prison sentence for him to grow up.

He'd lost the stupidity and came out hard and angry. Two traits he couldn't shake because he'd learned about the real world.

"You're not going to stay away from her." Priest sighed heavily. "You're too damn much like your dad."

And, like his dad, he drew a line on the ground when it came to club loyalty. Cusclan had no claim on Twyla. Nothing was stopping him from looking after her.

He couldn't walk away and leave her to defend herself. The blowback from Cusclan, not gaining hold over Tarkio and claiming the Missoula territory would put her at risk. Big and his MC brothers would look at every possibility of making Tarkio weaker.

They'd look at going after their wives.

Girlfriends.

Businesses.

Communities.

Those with any contact with Tarkio were at risk.

Because he was seen around Twyla, Big could make a statement by hurting her if he found her alone.

"I'm going to watch her while she's at the house." He faced Priest. "It's the least I can do."

"I have crews guarding the crops in Northern California and our businesses in Missoula." Priest stood. "I need to get to the prison, while Curley and Roddy are heading to Idaho tonight for the rally with those in Moroad who hadn't got swept up in the sting, plus Ronacks MC, Bantorus Motorcycle Club. I'll call in some of the senior members to patrol her area. That's the most I can afford to do while we're stretched thin."

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