Page 31 of King
“I’m not a fucking kid anymore. I can handle my own life.” He takes in a deep breath and releases it. “Look if shit starts going down, it could be this. I just thought you might like to know.”
and
“I’ve got to go,” he says, standing and walks to the door.
I don’t stop him. I’ve got this shit now to deal with, on top of Alana, and the rival motorcycle club, we both need time to cool off.
“I got an appointment.”
“Bring her by,” I order before he can disappear out the door. “We need to discuss this situation.”
“I’ll see if she has time.”
“Tell her to make time, Gavin,” I say. “The fucking club could be affected. It’s not a request.”
He opens the door and walks out without looking back. As soon as the door slams shut, I pound my hand against my desk.
“Calm down, Dylan. Looks like our baby brother might be in love.”
I sigh. “I think so too, but this isn’t good bro.
Congressman Williams is a prick and can make our lives a living hell. It’s not a
matter of if, but when.”
“What’s the plan?”
“I have no fucking clue, Logan.” I ran my hand down my face. “But I got to
deal with Alana’s shit. We don’t need to be worried about looking over our
shoulders because of a love triangle with a fucking powerful politician. Williams can
do a hell of a lot more damage to us than the Bianchi’s.”
“It’ll work out.”
My brother tries to reassure me. While I appreciate his confidence in me, I don’t think he realizes the position we’re in. I can deal with criminals, but Williams skirts the line, and I’m not worried about what he can do to us on the illegal side of things because we can handle that like we always do. My concern is the legal routes he can use to bring us all down.
Chapter Eleven
ALANA
Freedom.
That’s the only word to describe it. Despite the two men who are chauffeuring me around like I’m a movie star, it feels fucking fantastic not to be couped up inside the clubhouse. Not that I’m not grateful to have somewhere safe to stay, I just need a change of scenery, or I start to get restless.
We’ve only been out for about an hour. On the order of Grimm, I closed all my credit card accounts, emptied my bank accounts, and got rid of my cell phone, so Matteo has no way to track me. I hate having to spend money on new clothes when I have a perfectly good wardrobe in Vegas, but it’s not doing me any good here, so I’m taking a little of the cash I have on hand and getting some things I need. But both of my babysitters are grumbling about driving me around. It’s not my fault they’re saddled with me. If it was my choice, I would have come by myself.
“Hey, guys can we get something to eat, then go by the tattoo shop so I can hang with Amelia before we head home?”
Home. That’s what a biker’s clubhouse has become to me.
Since Amelia has been working at Saint’s shop, I haven’t seen much of her. I want to catch up and see how things are going. When she gets back to the clubhouse, I’m in bed and when I wake up, she’s already gone. Although we’re going through this thing together, we don’t see each other, and I miss her.
David, the prospect we met the first night looks at Christian, who’s also known as Tongue who’s looking in the side mirror. According to the girls at the clubhouse, he can make any girl very happy with the stroke of his tongue, hence the name.
My hackles rise at the shift of the energy inside the SUV. While they don’t want to drive me around, the energy isn’t from frustration or being annoyed. Tension saturates the air now. It’s a feeling I’ve gotten used to over the years being with Matteo. Danger is near.
