Page 113 of Tied to You
“For God’s sake, babe.” Tanya helps me to my feet. “He wants you up there.”
“Me?”
“Apparently.”
Oh, God. My feet begin to move, and I wipe my hands on the sides of my jeans, taking tentative steps closer to him. I look back over my shoulder at Tanya, and she gives me a nod.
“Problem?” Rocco asks.
“No,” I say instantly, turning to look up at him.
“Good. Need a word with you.” Clearly he’s furious. He ignores everyone as they filter out of their meeting room, and I sheepishly follow behind him. I get a few looks, mainly frowns and faces of annoyance. It’s only when I follow him into the room and see Travis and Dean still sitting at the table,do I know I’m about to be reprimanded for my actions earlier.
Dean sits slumped, his chin resting in his hand. Travis on the other hand has the look I’m all too familiar with. He’s mad. Bloody fuming, actually. But I’m not sure if it’s still directed at me, or for whatever’s about to come.
“Sit down,” Rocco tells me. I watch Travis purse his lips as I grab the nearest chair and pull it out. I don’t mean to grimace as I sit, but the way in which Travis looks at me, warms my centre. He knows I’m uncomfortable. He knows I need to get back. Perhaps talking to him later might not be as bad as I’m imagining.
Taking a steadying breath, Rocco places his hands on the back of his chair at the head of the table. His stony eyes stare down before they find me.
He’s about to lay into me, so I beat him to it and start pleading my defence. “I’m sorry for showing up there tonight. If I hadn’t have gone—”
“What makes you think you can sit in here and say a fucking word without being spoken to?” Rocco grumbles, cutting me off. My back stiffens. The blood in my veins thickens. I feel the tension radiating off Travis as he watches his president speak in such a way. “No, you shouldn’t have fucking gone there tonight, just like how you shouldn’t have spoken to the cunt at the wedding. None of that has anything to do with you.”
I’m sat waiting for him to throw the woman card at me. This really isn’t the right place, but I can feel something shifting inside me. It might just be my hormones, or my sudden need to know my life’s trajectory with Travis, but I squeeze my hands together under the table, slowing my racing thoughts, trying to calm myself. I don’t think Rocco would hurt me, and I certainly don’t think Travis would allow it, but the men sat before me are nothing like the men I’m used to. There’s literally no time to think about how I should handle this.
“I’m not going to beat round the fucking bush, Mollie. You know what it is that we do.”
I double take. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, my reply to anything related to club business always the same.
“Right. So, you know what we do when people fuck with us or try to take something that’s ours.”
“I can imagine.” My tone sounds like I’m being smart.
Rocco hesitates, presumably thinking just that. “The club has some business to see to. I need you to step in, seeing as that’s what you like to do.”
My eyes narrow and I glance at Travis quickly. Is he serious? That isn’t what I thought he was going to say. “I don’t follow.”
Travis runs a hand down his face. “There’s got to be another way,” he says, visibly hating this.
“There isn’t,” Rocco replies before turning his gaze to me. “The coke your old friend had on him tonight wasn’t from our suppliers.”
“I—”
“We don’t have time to play games, Mollie.”
I look at all three of them in turn. “Okay. Whose was it?”
“Good fucking question.”
“Saviours. We think,” Dean says.
“Saviours? But that would mean more than one supplier. I didn’t think you allowed that within your borders?”
“We don’t,” Travis says flatly.
My eyes trail to his. “What will you do?” I ask him, but it’s Rocco who replies.
“We’ll take the fight to them. They’ve already done too much to us.”
