Page 60 of What He Wants

I looked our VP square in the eyes. “I think Daisy’ ex is a sick, possessive fuck. Now that the restraining order she had on him is no longer in effect, he’s making good his threats.” I folded my arms.

“You going to claim her?”

I clenched my jaw at Hawk’s question, and fought the urge to punch the knowing smirk off Rock’s face. I knew the answer to that question was important, and Rock had already received the answer once that day, even if it had been somewhat reluctantly given. The club wouldn’t protect Daisy any other way. I knew that I’d protect her with my life, but if anything happened to her on my watch--I didn’t even want to think about it. In my world, we were a club of brothers that had one another’s backs in all things. And that meant our families, too.

I thought about when we’d gone on recent lockdown. It was different when you brought in a lot of people and could protect them under one roof, but when it came to tying up a prospect on one person outside club grounds, that was usually reserved for brothers and their immediate family members. Old ladies had always been high on the list.

“I don’t see what the problem is. You don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

I ignored the instant anger that rose inside of me thinking of Painter with Daisy. “I don’t have a fucking problem. When I’m ready to claim an old lady, I will.”

“I don’t blame Big John for wanting to wait,” BK said, blowing out a stream of blue smoke while crushing out his cigarette. “Look what having an old lady has done to all of you fucks,” he joked, glancing around the table.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, brother,” Hawk said with a smirk. “Going home to a nice warm,cleanbed every night, a sweet woman, babies if you’re lucky. There’s worse things out there.”

The married men at the table were all nodding in agreement. Hawk’s words were the very reason I was holding off claiming Daisy as mine, fear that I could have those things. Fear that I could lose it just as easily.

“So what do we do to protect Daisy until we find out what’s going on?”

“She’s going to spend her nights here,” I spoke up.

“And what do we do to protect Big John?” Painter asked with humor. “Who’s he gonna spend the night with?”

Always kidding around. I shot him the bird, but otherwise ignored him. “If we can’t put a prospect on her during the day, I’ll fucking do it myself.”

More than one set of brows shot up, but Prez was the one who spoke. “And shuck your club duties?”

“Have I ever shucked my responsibilities?” I demanded through my teeth.

Hawk released a loud breath with a hardness in his eyes that I’d seen many times before. “Do what you have to, brother. We’ll support you.” I gave him a chin lift because those three words said it all, and I knew he’d have my back. The club had my back. “What else?” He glanced down at a ledger. “Cooper and Gator still set for the protection run tomorrow night?”

Rock nodded and then spoke because Hawk hadn’t raised his gaze from the ledger. “Yep.”

“Do we know what the product is?” This time he raised his gaze.

Rock shook his head. “We don’t want to know.” That usually meant that it was the kind of shit that would have rival clubs scrambling to get their hands on it.

Hawk turned his attention to me.

“I’ll follow at a distance in case there’s an ambush.”

“Good idea. We’ve been lucky lately. Let’s not tip the scales.” He turned a page. “We haven’t sent anyone to Last Hope for the club in a while, anyone interested? There’s a big pot for anyone who wins against Crusher.”

Hawk’s only response was a loud chorus of snorts as each brother made it clear that it wouldn’t be him. Crusher was Covacks’ own fighter, and lethal as fuck in the ring. Not too many beat the over-muscled Russian. It didn’t surprise me that none of us were eager to meet our maker, because when you got in the ring with Crusher, you left there in a body bag. The only fools who willingly climbed into the ring with him were the poor, desperate fucks that had nothing to lose.

“Bunch of pussies,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words. Little by little, the MC was bowing out of shit that brought in more pain than money. And why shouldn’t we? None of us were getting any younger. Most of us had families now, families that needed us, and the club was rolling in dough, most of which was legal these days. Most, but not all of it. And that didn’t mean we weren’t a one-percent club, because we still lived by our own rules.

“Are the strip clubs covered for the next week?” He glanced at Fox for confirmation, because Fox did the schedules for the prospects.

The clubs Hawk was talking about were the two that Covacks owned and we provided muscle for. We had previously handled six of his clubs, but he’d sold the others, leaving the Tittie Kittie and Pussy Pat.

Fox gave a loud yawn before saying, “Yep.”

“Are we keeping you awake, brother?” Rock smirked.

“Hey, it’s tiring sitting at a computer all day, looking over surveillance footage and investigating shit.” He yawned again.

Hawk snapped his ledger closed. “Anyone else need to bring something to the table?” He waited a few seconds. “Church is out.”

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