Page 80 of What Lies Within

Rigs leans back with a loud exhale.

“That’swhy I didn’t say anything at the time.” I survey the men in the room. “Because this is how I knew you’d all react.”

Hammer utters a quiet "Fuck" and runs a hand over his head.

It's Turnip, whose lip lifts in a sneer as he regards me with new eyes. "Senator Mitcham is that bitch that wants to reintroduce the death penalty, am I right?"

“Same one,” Digger mumbles, gaze locked on me.

"Hope you told him to go fuck himself." Rigs chuckles, referencing the blackmail.

“The threat was anonymous, so I ignored it. Until they gave me something concrete to go on, I didn’t see the point in giving whoever had sent it credence.”

“Hold up.” Turnip raises his hand before him. “Let’s back up to the fact your fuckin’ mother is the woman who’d have us sittin’ in the chair for the things we’ve done.”

“It don’t matter right now,” Digger warns, lifting his chin.

"Like fuck it don't." Turnip scoots to the front of his seat, arm extended, and pointer finger stabbing my way. "The fact Terry knows is dangerous enough. What if he turns narc and feeds her info about our club? About theveryillegal shit you do?” He shakes his head. “You kept this from us, and I want to know why you didn’t find it pertinent to share information that affectsallof us.”

“This is why!” I erupt, throwing my hands at my sides. “Because one little truth and you fuckin’ look at me different, Turnip. LikeI’mthe traitor.” I shift closer, leaning down to level our heated stares better. “Did it matter before today? Did whose cunt I came screamin’ out of matter when I gave you that badge?” I stab the stitched title over his breast.

His jaw hardens—a warning to keep my hands to myself if I want this conversation to maintain some semblance of civility.

“Did it?” I holler, demanding his fucking answer.

He leans back, slow and measured, and looks away.

It’s all the answer I’ll get, but it’s enough for me to know I’m right. It didn’t matter shit. So, it shouldn’t matter now.

“I mean, maybe,” Rigs says quietly, “bein’ your mother and all, she might rethink re-instating the penalty if she knows it affects you.”

Got to love the guy. Always looking for the silver linings. "It'd make her fast-track the fuckin' thing," I mumble. "Look, the point today," I say with an edge to my voice, "is that the Reapers have a fucking contract with the Devil's Breed to cart their goddamn skin trade to the border, and it has no end. Fucking Fox shook hands on a goddamn work ticket that, first off, goes against our ethos, and second has no exit clause."

“And none of it would have happened if you’d just taken his fuckin’ colors when you were supposed to.”

I snap my head around, body twisting to follow, and raise an eyebrow at Minion. “You think I don’t know that?” Of all the fuckers in here, his turn in support shakes me most.

The man has always been a respected sounding board, the guy I could trust with my life and my children's.

And now he wants to question me.

"It could be argued that we're all equally to blame," I say, low and level, as I inch closer to him. "We sat here, in this very room, and voted on whether he'd receive punishment for his actions when the deadline passed for Fox to turn in his patch. And we all decided he wasn't enough of a threat to be concerned with at the time.We allagreed that he was an issue to be dealt with later."

I roll my jaw; eyes narrowed on the fucker. He knows what I don't say. That as a club, we decided to keep our focus on supporting Minion through the death of his old lady. That wedeemed laying Carly to rest and providing a stable environment for her daughter were more important than meting out violence and unrest against my fucking brother.

“Bitchin’ over whose shit is in the cornflakes won’t get us anywhere,” Hammer states. “Shit’s still in there, ruinin’ everything, so best we can do is decide how to fix it.”

“What sort of fuckin’ metaphor is that?” Rigs says with a slight laugh.

“He’s right, though. We can’t change the past, only move forward with intention.” I appeal to each man in the room. “That’swhy I wanted to get through what I had to say before everythin’ fell apart.”

“Have at it then,” Turnip grumbles, settling arms across his chest.

“As we all know by now, Volkov pulled his contract with us after that shit in the warehouse went down.”

“You mean, after you refused to hand Rae over.” Hammer shrugs. “I’m not saying it was the wrong decision, but let’s call it what it is.”

Grumbles echo about the room.

---