Page 87 of Pulse

It was more than Pulse deserved.

Spec seethed in his chair.

No one would walk out if they disagreed with the vote. Pulse wouldn’t let them. He’d quit before one of his brothers voluntarily left or their tempers got them kicked out of the club for something he did—even Spec. He wouldn’t be responsible for screwing up his family more than he already had.

“How big a threat do you think the cartel is?” Ty asked as he rested his elbows on the table.

“I think they want to destroy the whole club. Since they’ve infiltrated the DEA, they have the power to arrest me for whatever the fuck they want. If they do, I’ll disappear and never be heard from again. Then they’ll dismantle the club with some bogus felony drug charges.”

“Well then, I think the solution is simple,” Spec said with an evil smirk.

Jinx frowned at him. “Really? You wanna hand your brother over to a drug cartel? You ever seen the shit they do to people?”

Shrugging, Spec folded his arms across his chest. “I survived torture. Maybe he will too.”

“That ain’t right, man.” Jinx shook his head.

“What isn’t right is him lying to us.” Spec leaned forward, practically snarling across the table at Pulse. “Give me one good fucking reason to believe you’re not lying now.”

What could he say?

Because you used to trust me.

Because it was a lie of omission.

I promise I’m telling the truth.

All his justifications fell flat.

“You can believe him because he’s a good man,” Ty said.

Spec scoffed. “You, too, VP? This is fucking insanity.”

“He’s never done anything to hurt his club, Spec.”

“He—”

“I’m not done.” Ty didn’t often exert his authority, but his tone cracked like a whip into the room.

Spec shut his mouth.

“We started this club what, two, two and a half years ago? How many times has Pulse had our backs? How many times has he patched us up? How many of our women has he helped through—” Ty swallowed.

His ol’ lady had suffered at the hands of human traffickers. She was doing well now, but it had been scary for a time, and those days would remain scarred in Ty’s mind for the rest of his life.

He cleared his throat. “How many times has he helped our women through some serious shit? And now, the second his past might threaten this club, he’s here willing to sacrifice himself.”

Pulse’s face burned. Ty made him sound like a damn martyr. All he wanted was to keep his brothers and their women safe. “VP, I’m not—”

Ty lifted his hand. “No, look…” He stood, his face fierce and dark. “I get it, Spec, you’re butt hurt because this shit took you by surprise. But really fucking think about it. He didn’t have to tell us shit. He came to you and Curly because he’s worried about us and our ol’ ladies. And he did it, knowing full well what you might do to him.”

“Or he’s in over his head and might as well see if we’re willing to help his ass out. Or he’s setting us up. There’s more than one possibility, VP.”

Ty shrugged as he sat. “Guess that’s why we’re voting then. So we can all decide for ourselves which possibility is most likely.”

Christ, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Look…” It was Pulse’s turn to stand. “Regardless of how you all vote today, in my mind, you’re my brothers. You can be pissed at me for as long as you need to come to terms with this shit. Bottom line, I’m not DEA any longer, and there isn’t a goddamn thing they can say or do to make me go back.”

“No?” Spec asked. “What if they get their hands on Talia? You saying you wouldn’t give them exactly what they wanted to save her ass?”

---