Page 63 of Puma's Pride

“Can’t. I need to head back to my clubhouse and update my crew.” Trouble says. He kisses Corinne. “Maybe we can hang out together tomorrow. You, me and mini Puma.”

Corinne laughs and agrees. “I’d like that.”

We walk out of the casino and get into the limo that Puma hired for our group. In the car, I snuggle up against Puma. I plan on peeling off his tux like wrapping paper later, but right now, I’m just happy. Juan’s out of the picture, and the charity event is over. We need to disburse the funds, but I’m not thinking about that tonight. It can all wait until tomorrow.

I glance over at Chill and see her worrying her lip as she stares out the window. Something is going on with her. I glance at Puma and see him studying his SOA. He knows something is wrong, so I let it go, knowing he’ll handle it. Just like he’s handled everything else.

When we step into the clubhouse, I see the man from earlier, the one who was speaking with Chill. When she sees him, she freezes before striding over to get into his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She demands. “I told you I needed to talk to my President first and then I’d meet with you. You know what you’ve done? You’ve made me an accomplice, and you’ve put my club at risk.” She pulls out her phone.

“Who the fuck are you calling?” He demands, reaching for the phone.

She keeps it out of his reach as she answers him. “I’m calling Detective Sterling.”

“You’re turning me in?” The man roars. “What the fuck, Chill? You’re a fucking cold-hearted bitch!” He seems to realize his mistake when the sound of every chair in the room scraping against the floor echoes around the space. He glances around him as every member moves forward until he’s boxed in. The growls and angry noises remind me of a zoo and I have to tamp down a giggle. Now is not the time for giggling.

“Chill. Your choice. We can take him to The Pit or dump him somewhere. Maybe Nellis. I take it you’re the deserter? Lieutenant Bryson?”

Bryson glances at Puma and then does a double take. “You’re Maklin Brooks.”

Puma growls. “Not anymore. I’m Puma, President of this club and I don’t take kindly to deserters threatening my crew. Dice, Wildcard, show this man his new accommodations in The Pit.”

Bryson doesn’t flinch or show any fear, but he does glance at Chill. “Please. I need your help. Find him. I don’t care what you do to me, but please, he’s only seven, and he’s all alone.”

Puma holds his hand to stop Dice and Wildcard. “What’s going on Chill?”

“It’s my son…” Bryson starts and Puma gives him a hard look to make him shut up.

“Chill?”

“I only know what Bryson told me earlier. The cops found his wife murdered and their son missing. He thought we could help find him.”

“How long has he been missing?” Puma asks.

“Six days.” Bryson says, his voice cracking. “I didn’t hear about my ex-wife’s death until four days ago when I returned stateside. I asked for leave, but they were dragging their feet. During that time, I tried to find out what happened to Slade, but no one seems to know anything. He’s only seven. The thought of him alone, out there…” Bryson’s voice trails off.

I glance up at Puma and know he’s softening toward the man. I imagine he’s picturing Mal wandering the streets of Vegas.

“Chill, Wildcard, my office. Bryson. You too.” Puma orders. He looks at me and I rise to kiss him.

“I’ll stay awake, but if I’m asleep. You wake me. I plan on taking that tux off you.” I whisper to him. He grins.

“It’s a date.”

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