Page 73 of Cutter

Whew!That was a much better option.

Chapter Fourteen

Blade slapped down the ledgers he’d been working on and closed his laptop. “Okay, you win. My concentration is shot to shit.” He glared. “What the fuck is going on with you?” Pushing his chair back from the desk, he clasped his fingers over his stomach. “Will you stop pacing? You’re gonna dig a hole in my carpet.”

“Lose the drama, will ya?” Cutter stopped midstride. Frowning, he carefully enunciated every word “I’m not doing a damned thing to your precious carpet.” He ran his hand through his hair. Although he’d told himself he was worrying over nothing, icy claws gripped him anyway. The gnawing premonition had started Monday morning when he and Emily had kissed and gone their separate ways. As he’d watched her drive off to work, every alarm bell in his system started ringing.

“She’s going to do something really dumb to test me. I just know it,” he grated, moving to the window. His thoughts clashing, he lifted the blinds to stare out. A much-improved yard shifted his focus to a few years ago, when the future of the Devils’ Spawn MC had teetered at the edge.

Fate had worked in the club’s favor. The fucked-up case the DA had built against Cutter had been proven wrong just in timefor him to come home and put an end to the club’s internal strife. The cause of the conflict had been a troublemaking prospect. Knowing how men think, the sneaky shit had presented an enticing, yet morally reprehensible opportunity to the membership. Pitting brother against each other and the club’s president, he’d almost ripped the MC apart.

Cutter never had a chance to figure out the guy’s endgame. As he got control of the situation and set things straight, mysteriously—or thanks to an opportune tip from a secret rival—the local police picked up the prospect for outstanding violations in Florida.

Everyone knows karma is an unforgiving bitch. While the bastard waited and hoped someone from an MC he’d nearly destroyed would bail him out, he ran into an angry knife behind bars.

The situation had left Blade with a bad taste in his mouth. Despite the passage of time and many suggestions from club brothers, the guy refused to hear anything about new applicants.

Took long months, a lot of convincing, and a reduction in numbers before Blade gave in. He accepted Tank, the current new prospect, because Barron had sworn over a stack of bibles the applicant was cool and reliable. Cutter had met the newbie a few times and confirmed the endorsement.

The prospect was all in and couldn’t do enough for the club. Cutter had put him on clubhouse exterior and yard duty, and it showed. The clubhouse had a new coat of paint, the weeds had been pulled, and the grass was slowly filling in the bald spots.

“Sit, please.” Blade broke into his thoughts, pointing to the empty chair in front of his desk. “Take a deep breath. Relax, then tell me what you’re worried about.”

Lacing his fingers behind his head, Cutter flopped his full length onto the chair. The cushions gave a loud squishing noise. “The bust is supposed to take place Thursday morning, andthey’re making arrangements with other departments between today, Tuesday and tomorrow, Wednesday. I haven’t seen Emily because I know she’s exhausted when she gets home and needs her rest.”

“But you’ve spoken to each other?” Blade asked.

“Oh, yeah. Two or three times a day. Always before she goes to sleep.”

“And?”

Cutter tightened his features, thinking of their strange, almost superficial conversations. “She has her sweet and loving moments, very much in her Tween space. Until I ask about the upcoming bust, and she turns gently evasive. I feel placated.”

“How?”

“She’s handling me, man. Tells me silly office stuff or what she does later at home, the kind of bullshit she thinks I want to hear, and nothing past that. No details or plans about the bust. She won’t mention any concerns she might have. Her standard answer is, ‘It’s all working as it should, and Captain Weaver is handling the situation.’” He crossed one ankle over the other. “Words from a woman who doesn’t want to give up control of the investigation to such a degree, she went to the Dirt Road saloon against her captain’s orders. I think that’s damned weird. And my sixth sense is screaming there’s foul play at work.”

Blade cocked his head. “What kind?”

“I told her she couldn’t take part in the actual bust. I was very clear. When it comes to this, though, she’s a stubborn mule. I sense she’s planning on going against my wishes.”

“I understand your concern, but this is her job. Danger comes with it.”

Cutter jumped to his feet. “Yes and no. During the investigation, her exposure to danger was limited until she pulled the stunt at the saloon. The actual operation, the setup, the waiting and watching, the inevitable gunfight, and arrests,if any are made, that’s SWAT and DEA territory with some involvement from Captain Weaver.” He gestured as he paced. “She’ll get the well-deserved kudos and recognition for her work. There’s no good reason for Emily to expose herself during the actual bust.”

“No?” Blade gave him a disbelieving look. “Isn’t she the lead investigator? I thought she’d be in the thick of the action.”

“Apparently, so does she.” He returned to the chair. “Emily isn’t happy about her rookie status, but there’s nothing she can do about it. She’s still a junior detective. If this operation is successful, she’ll earn enough good marks to climb another rung or two on the ladder. Her presence isn’t required on Thursday night. Captain Weaver, the station’s commanding officer, has to be there, not her.”

Blade gave him a level glance. “Do you want my opinion?”

Cutter nodded. “All of it.”

“Set your rules. Curb her unrestricted movements. You’ve been a patient Daddy with Emily. Way more indulgent than I ever was, or will be, with my Little. It’s your turn to play hardball.”

“Thanks, man. I needed to hear this. I’m worried sick.” Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers through his hair.

“I hear you, man. It’s easy for me to talk and give advice. I went through my ups and downs. At first, I was hesitant. I didn’t want to trample Cel’s feelings. Not nearly as careful as you, though.” Blade laughed. “Until Shark, the founder of the Keys chapter, gave me his two cents. His ol’ lady is a Little. Having our child cemented our dynamics. Whenever she’s in age regression, her behavior is similar to Little Jerrod’s.”

---