Page 37 of Ruger's Rage

CHAPTERFIVE

Ruger

"Reed just crossed into West Virginia," Bloodhound comments, checking his phone. "Should be here in two hours with Seamus and Butch."

I nod, trying to focus on business instead of Tildie’s soft lips and amber eyes. "Good. Make sure the prospects have the meeting room ready."

Ounce studies me with that knowing smirk that makes me want to punch him. "You look like shit, Prez."

"Fuck off."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain bartender, would it?"

I shoot him a glare that would silence most men.

Ounce just chuckles.

"Leave him alone," Bloodhound says, his gravelly voice neutral. "Man's allowed to have interests outside of the club."

"Since when?" Ounce counters. "He's been married to that gavel for three years."

I ignore them both, thumbing through financial records of businesses tied to the Grim Vultures. "Focus. We need Reed's intel if we're going to stop whatever Striker's planning."

The mention of my uncle sobers everyone up.

Business first, always.

That's the rule I've lived by since taking the Presidency.

But for the first time in three years, something's competing for space in my head.

If I’m being more specific, it’ssomeone—Tildie.

The way she melted against me in that park, like she was starving for a gentle touch. The cautious trust in her eyes before panic took over.

"Earth to Ruger." Ounce waves a hand in front of my face. "You with us, brother?"

I straighten up, pushing personal shit aside. "Always."

"Sure about that?" Bloodhound asks quietly, those watchful eyes missing nothing. "Because Reed's not coming just for a social call. Vultures have been hitting his territory hard too."

"I know what's at stake today," I snap. "Get the fuckin’ room ready."

They leave me alone with my thoughts and the growing stack of reports.

The Grim Vultures' recent moves suggest coordination with my uncle.

The pieces fit too perfectly to be a coincidence, and knowing my uncle, I know he will never give up moving against us.

And now there's Tildie, whose ex has Vulture connections. Another piece that fits too perfectly.

The question I can't shake: Is she part of this? A plant to get close to me, to get information?

My gut says no.

The fear in her eyes when she got that text was real.

The way she kissed me—hesitant, then honest—that can't be faked.

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