Page 58 of Manic

I take a moment to survey the room, meeting each member's eyes in turn.

These are my brothers, my family.

We all count on my father to make the right call, to keep us all safe.

"All right," My father finally speaks up, his voice steady. "Here's what we're going to do. Logi, I want you to take a team down to the docks. Scope out the situation, see if you can get eyes on these new security guys."

Logi nods, already prepared to jump at a moment’s notice.

"Ivar, dig deeper into that police chatter. Find out if it's just a coincidence or if we've got a leak somewhere."

"On it," Ivar says, pulling out his phone.

"The rest of you, I want on standby. If this goes sideways, we might need to move fast."

As the others file out of the room, each with their assigned tasks, my father hangs back.

I can see the question in his eyes before he even opens his mouth.

"What about you?" he asks. "Where do you want to be?"

I hesitate, torn between my duty to the club and my promise to Meghan.

The responsible thing would be to oversee the operation personally, to be there if shit hits the fan.

But the thought of missing out on a night alone with Meghan...

"I'll be a call away," I decide finally. "If you need me, I’ll ride out."

He nods, understanding in his eyes.

He knows what tonight means to me, to Meghan. "We've got this, son," he assures me. "Go be with your family."

As I watch him leave, I'm struck by a wave of gratitude for my club.

A lot of Prez’s wouldn’t just let one of the full patch’s hang back like this.

They're not just my brothers, they're the support system that allows me to have a life outside of all this.

I make my way back to the main room, my eyes immediately seeking out Meghan.

She's by the bar, chatting with one of the prospects.

As if sensing my gaze, she looks up, a question in her eyes.

I nod, letting her know everything's okay, and her shoulders visibly relax.

God, I love how in tune we are, how she can read me with just a look.

As I approach, the prospect, Hakon, scurries off.

Smart kid.

He knows better than to hang around this full patch’s ol’ lady for too long.

"Everything okay?" Meghan asks as I slide onto the barstool next to her.

I nod, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Nothing we can't handle," I assure her. "Where's Tindra?"

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