Page 84 of One Night with the Biker

“Which is?”

“First, your payment to me.”

“I intend to liquidate the money I saved for Ainsley—”

“I don’t want money. I want drugs. Boom Boom’s payments will only get me so much when I account for the high grade and the bumps.”

“I live in Kansas City. How the fuck can I deliver drugs to you on a regular basis? And I’m not a low-level dealer. I can send you money every month to pay your dealer, but I can’t personally deliver them.”

Bash nodded. “That’ll have to do then. First payment will be tomorrow.”

“Weren’t you high last night?”

“Used the last of my stash.” Digging into his jacket pocket, Bash pulled out my cell phone. “Who is Proctor, Missile, and Visor to you?”

“Good friends of mine. Who are they to you?”

Not answering, Bash pressed the keypad on my phone to unlock it.

“Kite gave you my code?”

“If you’re in my care, I need to know how to access your shit.”

When he held the phone up, I immediately recognized the app for the home alarm. Before I questioned what the fuck was going on, a scene from my worst nightmare played out and I listened to what those motherfuckers told Ainsley. I thought I’d watch her die, especially after the stunt she pulled. My first emotion at Reese Sinclair’s rescue was gratitude. He’d gone against three motherfuckers to save my sister. Relief and joy hit me, until I remembered he was my enemy.

“This is only from the camera in the den during the standoff,” Bash said, intruding upon my confliction. “There’s footage of them breaking in and footage of upstairs when she karate chops one of the motherfuckers and almost gets away.”

My gaze drifted back to the phone, but Bash pulled it away and tucked it back into his cut pocket.

“I’ll ask you again. Why should I help you?”

“To fuck up Nova, Kite, and Wizard,” I snarled. He was a club president, I didn’t think he’d appreciate hearing I intended to kill my own. “And any other motherfucker who crossed her.”

“Do you know the American Scorpions are older than the Death Dwellers by a few years?”

“Excuse me?” I wasn’t interested in hearing that history, nor did I fucking care. I didn’t personally know any of those motherfuckers. “And?”

“Daddy always wanted the clubs to work together. Before his death, he even considered a merger. Who’d absorb who? By the time he went to Hortensia, that idea was off the table. My uncle, Rack, started out as a Scorpion but became a Dweller. He was just in awe of Logan Donovan.”

I squinted, and Bash smiled.

“You have a problem, Roman. You’re all alone and the officers in your club want you dead. Whether Ainsley carries your enemy’s baby doesn’t matter.”

“What are you suggesting?” I asked, though I already knew and the idea insulted me. “I know it isn’t me flipping and becoming a Royal Bastard. My father would turn over in his fucking grave.”

“Your father isn’t here to help protect you and your sister.”

“I’d have a fucking bounty on my head from the Bloody Scorpions and the Royal Bastards would always look on me with suspicion.”

“Say you don’t flip and take out all the top motherfuckers. I’m sure you have some members who’d stand with you. There are always fuckheads who don’t like their president and dream of overthrowing them or supporting an asshole with the balls to attempt a coup.”

He was right. I could think of several off the top of my head.

“You’d have to get rid of all the Boom Boom loyalists. However, that would still put you at odds with Reese Sinclair.”

“That motherfucker breathing puts me at odds with him.”

Bash chuckled. “Doesn’t change the dilemma of him dropping a baby in Ainsley’s pussy.”

---