Page 46 of The Trust We Broke
“I don’t think we need to vote,” Wraith says. “But for formality’s sake, we should. Before we do, I’d just add that we need more funds to fight what’s coming. Arms are getting more expensive. It’s not about paying us more; it’s about keeping the club financially healthy.”
“All in favor,” I say.
Everyone’s hands go up. There isn’t a single no.
“Motion carried,” Wraith says. “Any other business?”
I shake my head. “No.”
It takes another ten minutes for everyone to wrap up individual conversations and clear the room. I’m just about to put my cut on, when Smoke comes back into the room.
“Hey, Prez. You got a second?”
“Sure thing. What’s up?” I slide my cut over my shoulders, and I appreciate the heavy weight of it.
He sits down in his seat. “You sure this thing with you and Lucy is cool?”
I huff at that. “Define ‘cool’?”
Smoke smiles sadly, like he knows the conflict going on in my mind. “Thought you might say that.”
I place my palms down on my desk. “Thought she was the one for me. Then, she divorced me the day I went inside, proving to me she couldn’t have been the woman I thought she was. Now, she’s back. It all happened a long time ago.”
“But feels like yesterday when you see her?”
“What the fuck is this, Smoke? You’re not my therapist.”
“No. But I’m about to be your ex’s landlord. Don’t know how the fuck Quinn and Lucy ended up talking about shit, but I just got a message that she’s moving into the apartment above the bakery.”
I grab my phone and pull up the app I’m using to locate the tracker I put in her truck. “Fuck me, she’s right there.”
Smoke shakes his head. “Please tell me you aren’t invading her privacy.”
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not stalking her or anything.”
Smoke raises an eyebrow.
“Fuck you. It’s so I can avoid her.”
“Right,” he says, as if there are twenty-seven letteri’s in the word. “Because that’s definitely the behavior of someone who is over their ex.”
I grab the keys to my bike. “She’s not taking that apartment.”
“Brother, there’s nothing I can do to stop her.”
I glare at Smoke. “You could stop Quinn. Reel in your old lady from being such a do-gooder and tell her she fucked up and that Lucy can’t stay there.”
He stands. “Prez,” he warns. “You don’t talk about my old lady like that. No matter how pissed you are at the world and Lucy.”
“Shit. Sorry. You’re right.”
“Listen,” Smoke says. “No skin off my back whether she does or she doesn’t. But she might be easier to keep an eye on if she’s living there. Because, you know, I put a full-blown security system on the bakery to keep Quinn safe when she’s at work, and I could always share the feed with you.”
I pause for a second. I could watch her. I’d be able to see who she had staying over or?—
“No. She isn’t staying in Colorado, and I’m going to tell her.” I march out of the room, headed for my truck.
The sound of footsteps tells me Smoke is jogging beside me. “Then, I’m coming with you, because I don’t want Quinn caught in whatever fucked-up crossfire this is.”
