Page 15 of Mimic
I stared at her with my mouth open. “Did you just—”
“Yes, I told you to calm down. You have a concussion, and stress isn’t good for your head. For what it’s worth, I told him you would be angry. Eat your pancakes and then get dressed. I’ll take you over to the clubhouse, and you can beat the shit out of him. I’ll even hold him down for you.”
The smile on her face told me she meant it. Frustration ran through me as I shook my head and sat down. Haizley was right. It wasn’t a good idea to kick someone’s ass on an empty stomach.
Chapter Six
Mimic
Walking into church, a feeling washed over me that I was in trouble for something. I knew I fucked up yesterday leaving Indie alone when my sister came in, but I’d believed she would be safe with Rose. My sister was a badass biker old lady.
She might be small, but she’d shown me she could kick my ass, and I didn’t have any worries about her being able to protect Indie. I hadn’t thought she would leave before Indie went home. That was my mistake. I wasn’t clear enough.
Lesson learned.
But no, I was in church because I was an officer now. I would be privy to all the secrets of the inner circle going forward. I was the youngest officer sitting at the table, and while I was only five years younger than Blade, it felt like a lifetime, given he’d been in the club a lot longer than I had.
Although, if I included the life I’d lived from the time my mother disappeared when Rose and I were ten years old, then I had a solid decade of experience under my belt.
I sat quietly as the others went over everything they had learned about the Death Dogs and their connection to Steele, the president of the Mother Chapter. As well as their connection to Daniel Scott.
What a sick bastard he was. Daniel Scott was the man who sold Amber to Sebastian Capribella. They were both the reason she’d ended up in a cell underground in Louisiana when Massacre found her during a raid.
Amber was gone now. Moved to California to live with the Golden Skulls as Massacre’s old lady. He wasn’t good enough for her. No one was good enough for her. Amber was special. Everyone in the club knew it. She wasn’t just a club girl; she was a sister to all of us.
Amber was my reason for being here.
She was the reason George Stone let me go. I didn’t know how he’d found Amber, but he sent me here to watch her. To make sure she never left.
Fuck you, asshole! She left!
She was happy now.
He was right, though; I was reunited with my sister because of Amber. Her mother, Valhalla, president of the Nyght Nymphs, found Rose on the street after Dakota snatched me. She took her in and raised her. George had known about my sister and where she was, but he wouldn’t tell me because George never did anything without getting something in return.
Now the prick was dead. Shot in the head by a woman right under the Soulless Sinners’ noses. While I was glad the bastard was dead, so was my father. Reaper had killed him that same night. I’d never get the chance to meet him now.
“We need to do something. Reaper won’t wait forever,” Cash said, pulling me out of my head.
“We will. Right now, we have a lot of other shit going on. We have the cookout at the Powell Ranch this weekend. Armando Garcia will be a guest at the ranch. I want every brother there. The prospects can handle the club for a few hours.”
“Does he know?” Blade asked.
“He doesn’t. Jessie hasn’t told him.”
“Does Jessie know we know?” Jack asked.
“No. I haven’t mentioned Garcia to her. But it makes sense now why she was acting squirrely in the hospital. He’ll know when Garcia shows up.”
“Grayson’s gonna be pissed when he finds out,” Colt added.
“That is not our problem. We are there to make sure everything goes well.”
“Still no word about the horse?” Jingles asked.
“No. But Grayson believes it’s still on the ranch somewhere.”
Grayson’s horse, Thunder, had been stolen. How an animal could be worth millions was beyond me. The thing was, it wasn’t even the horse that was worth the money; it was his fucking cum.
