Page 29 of Seized By Solo

“The fucker Dyer. He has fucked off to Ireland for a family funeral, but word has it that he wants our territory. Alan has been making waves saying Elsie killed his other and he wants revenge.”

“What the fuck?” I grind out between clenched teeth.

My hands ball into tight fists at my sides as my anger builds.

“He claims she killed him, and kept the savings they had. Saying the money is his, and will make her hand it over. Threats have been thrown around, brother.” Pres looks fucking pissed, as does every man sitting with us.

“He will have to claim a war if he wants our territory. This fuckhead brother needs to go.” Boost bursts out.

“If he wants a war, he will fucking get one,” I bark out.

“He is getting nothing from us, Son. We protect the club and we protect what is ours. Do not worry on that shit,” Tag states firmly, and I nod to him.

“He’s a cocky twat for thinking he can just walk in and claim what has belonged to the Royal Bastards for fucking years,” Woody grunts.

“He thinks he has the power but he is in for a very rude awakening,” Dutch claims.

“How are plans for the visit to America?” Tag changes the subject.

“Good. We fly out on the Monday and stay two weeks. I will visit two clubs, but we will stay longer in Jacksonville, sort the deal out there, and then come home,” my brother explains.

“Good, good.”

“Make sure you make contact with the guys from Dallas. Blade is the guy I have been speaking to,” Kink adds.

“Will do.”

“Have you thought of what we spoke about yesterday, Pres?” Fritz asks, piquing everyone’s interest going by the looks on their faces, mine included.

“I have. We will bring it to the table and go from there. If the vote is for, then we look over the business plan.” Pres’ reply makes my curiosity even greater.

“Stop talking in fucking code, ya bastards. Fill us in, will ya?” Box gripes.

“You have no say here, brother,” Fritz snaps at him. “You went fucking nomad, remember?”

“Yeah, and last I checked, I still fucking wore a Royal Bastard patch.”

“Listen here, you little fuck, you may wear the club’s patch but you have no say in what we do for the club unless you remove that nomad patch and stay here. But remember, if you do, then you will have to keep your hands to yourself.” By the time Fritz is finished, he’s smirking.

The air around us goes thick with tension. I see Fritz glance at me before he looks back to Box, and Box does the same.

“What does he mean by that?” Kink asks, leaning forward.

“You touched my woman?” I snarl.

Box’s eyes go wide and he holds his hands up in a surrender gesture.

“Hey, brother, I didn’t know she was taken. I saw no cut or mark on her,” he explains, but my blood is boiling at this point.

“Calm down, Solo. Elsie is across the room and she does not need to see you lose your shit and kill a brother,” Dutch urges.

My body vibrates with the need to strangle this fucker who dared touch what is mine.

Pointing at him, I snarl. “You touch her again and I will end you. Feel lucky that my girl saved your life tonight.”

Box nods but says nothing else.

“Shitting hell, when did women come between brothers?” Woody bitches.

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