Page 136 of Cook

The Prez. My brothers.

Yeah. He was 110% right. With one text, I would bring them all down on Serenity. All I would have to do was keep this conversation rolling. Buy time. Celt would arrive within the hour, and he was probably all we’d need. I would have my brother at my back, and murdering these fucks would be easy as pie. The body count would pile up and blood would turn the floors red like my vision. And then, I could burn this place to the ground without a second thought.

Rocking back on my heels, I looked down at the muzzle of the gun and then back up at Mercer. “Take the fucking gun off my chest and let’s go. I’ll send messages on the way to gather the club’s officers for church.” And get the club armed and ready for a fight, but neither Mercer nor Parisi needed to know that.

Sloan glanced at Massimo, but he was already walking out. He showed his back, but would he be so confident if there wasn’t a gun trained on me? I could snap Mercer’s wrist in a blink and have the gun warming my palm. Pulling the trigger with the nose pointed at Massimo wouldn’t have me losing any sleep at night.

Then again, if I shot the Mafia bastard, would I ever find my mom?

I was fucking stuck.

Following like a puppy.

Massimo moved through the club smoothly, solidifying my knowledge that he owned the place. Or was at least a fixture here. Massimo’s goons crowded around me, but Mercer still had the gun on me. If anyone in the club thought this was odd or even noticed, they didn’t say.

People didn’t shy away either, as though guns were the norm here. Odd, since I apparently signed that I wouldn’t bring weapons into the club. I no longer wanted to know more about Serenity unless it involved how to raze the place to the ground.

A long dark limo waited outside Serenity, boxing my bike in. One of Massimo’s men held open the limo door, and Massimo duckedinside. Mercer pressed the butt of the gun into my back, ushering me inside the limo.

My boots stuck to the sidewalk. Once inside, I would be trapped.

No escape.

At least Maddie was safe for now with her sister. But Massimo had a tracking device on her. He’d found my mom when I’d kept her hidden for years. How he got the deets on my mother, I couldn’t guess, but one thing I knew now... I fucking had to comply.

Curling myself into a small and slim man—at least as much as I could—I climbed into the limo.

The smell of polished leather, cigars, and brandy smacked me in the face, and I stifled a gag. Massimo relaxed in his seat, crossing his legs, as Sloan and one of the other goons climbed in too. The door slammed, and the limo floated away from the curb. Definitely smoother than my bike, but I still wanted the wind on my face and Maddie at my back.

Riding, especially with her now, was my lifeline.

“I should text Prez,” I said. Wilde would need to gather everyone, and it’d take Celt an hour to get back to the Ridge. “If you want church to be ready when we get there.”

Massimo’s dark eyes glinted in the car across from me, but Snakes said, “Or get them ready for an attack.”

Massimo waved off the little man. “We have the cell phone. We decide the text. Pull the phone out, Sloan.”

Gun in one hand, cell phone in the other, Sloan said, “Who are we texting?”

“Celt,” I said over the lump in my throat. He would understand shit was going down if I texted him to call church. If only I could somehow drop the name Snakes.

“With a C?” Mercer scrolled on my phone before he said, “Found him.”

Massimo arched an eyebrow, waiting for what I would say. I, too, thought hard about the words, searching my memories. When Celt and I were kids, we often communicated in our own language with code words so my daddy wouldn’t know what we were talking about.

“Say,” I began, working my jaw. Less would be more. “Church 911. The Ridge. One hour. Tell Angel to spread the word.”

The mention of Angel should tip him off that my message had something to do with his ol’ lady and Maddie, by proxy.

My phone buzzed in Mercer’s hand, and he said, “Your man’s confused.”

I latched my jaw shut.Think about it, Celt.

“He’s asking if you’re... all good? Ah, we have a bromance going on, do we?” asked Snakes, cocking a smile. I knew the dweeb wanted my cock.

“How sweet,” he continued. “Maybe you’re the sub to his Dom. You should bring him to the club. Hierarchy in power play is my favorite.”

His forked tongue dashed over his lower lip.

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