“He’s a knob. He’ll push all your wrong buttons. But eventually, he’ll concede… if I’m there.”
“He’s already pushed all the wrong buttons.” My eyes jump between his as his fingers flex on me. “You’re not coming with me.”
I’m swiftly removed from his front and he’s grabbing his phone to make a call. He wants to make Matthew a priority just to stake his claim to me. It won’t work. Travis could try every trick in the book, and he’d get nowhere.
Quietly, I make my way to the bedroom. I hear a thud and him sounding agitated, then he says Dean’s name on a loud, trying-to-be-hushed breath. I was right. He’s making his move now.
Pulling out some skinny jeans and a cropped t-shirt from one of the boxes we’ve yet to unpack, I casually dress myself, scraping my hair back into a high ponytail. I drag on my boots and throw on one of Travis’ shirts, tying the ends in a knot.
Then I sit on the end of the bed and wait.
Chapter Twenty-One
TRAVIS
My fist collides with the newly decorated plaster.
A kid?
Fucking hell. I slam my fist into the wall again, ruining what took us months to perfect in mere seconds.
She isn’t meant to be anywhere near club business. Sheismy future.
Mine to protect.
Mine to love.
Mine to worship.
But, a kid?
I can’t deny she isn’t right on every single, fucking thing that becomes problematic in our lives. Issues with the house? She sorted it. My aunt unexpectedly going to hospital. Mollie was there by her side when Mick couldn’t be. She covered the farm when needed. Then she was there for me when I needed her. She’s like an angel sent down to our family.
And what have I given her?
I don’t answer my own question.
“You still there?” Dean’s voice sounds down the line.
“Yeah.”
“So we’re going back now?”
Matthew, the fucking slimeball,wasan absolute cunt when we met him earlier today. He made shit difficult for the sake of it. The prick. Fortunately for him, Rocco called all of us to action after Saviours were seen dealing within our borders. They’d gone by the time we could get there, but that won’t go unanswered. We have to make getting every one of Nathan’s buyers on our side a priority.
The date to take him over is looming. And that shit’s now on Dean and me. If not, Saviours will pose an even bigger threat to us, and Elvis doesn’t become the King.
I look down at my bleeding knuckles, my chest rising and falling fast. “We’re going back now,” I confirm, slamming my eyes shut and resting my head against the wall.
Visions of Mollie being forced to take a line and Matthew trying to have his way with her, plague my head. I can’t let that slide. It’s irrelevant that I didn’t know her back then. What matters is I fucking know her now. I don’t like that she’s right about Matthew, nor do I fucking like the idea of doing business with the cunt. But what choice do we have? One word from him to Nathan, and this whole operation folds.
I am positive about one thing. An eternity could pass and I’d go back and right every wrong for her. I’d erase every bad thing that’s ever happened to her because she deserves to be happy.
Hate comes easily. Love comes with pain. It also gives you clarity. It’s what pushes the blood around my veins. What makes me wake up each day, knowing what I want.
But a kid?
“You got a clear head?”