Page 17 of Only The Strong

Reese’s spin stiffens. “No, I haven't gotten any other notes and your guys haven't reported seeing anything unusual.” She takes another sip of her drink.

Finn hums and nods his head, his brain clearly at work. “Well, I don't trust it.” He looks up at me and meets my eyes. “Keep an eye on your girl, Cale. I don’t think this guy is done yet.” Finn checks the time on his phone and then motions with his head toward the chapel. “It’s time we head in there man, don't wanna keep Ronan waiting.”

I nod my head and motion for Peyton. “Can you take a break and hang with Reese?” Peyton nods and hops onto the bar, swinging her bare legs over to drop into the seat I was standing next to, Reese laughs with her brows knit together, she’ll get used to Peyton’s antics soon.

Finn picks up his drink from the bar top and we make our way to the back of the clubhouse and to the chapel. “You into the bombshell, or is it just protection?” Finn’s question is directed towards me, but he’s looking behind us at Reese. I can’t help but look back as well, and when I see Reese over the crowd, our eyes meet and we stay like that for what feels like an eternity until she looks down at her drink and pushes her straight hair behind her ear. “Guess that answers my question.” Finn laughs, now looking directly at me, rubbing his chin and smirking.

“No. I’m not into Reese, we’re just friends and I want her safe. I don’t like the idea of some asshole getting off on scaring her.” I push past him and towards the chapel doors.

“Uh huh.” Finn follows me inside, sounding less than convinced.

“Yeah okay, we sleep together, but honestly she’s just really fun to hang out with. We’re just friends, you know I don't do anything more,” I say, taking my usual seat at the table.

Finn sits down next to me, in his usual spot, and pulls out a joint. Rolling it between his fingers, he looks at it thoughtfully. “You can let more people in, Cale. Not every woman is gonna do what Kaity did.”

“You’re right because I’m not gonna let them.” I take the joint from him and light it with a lighter that’s sitting on the table. I take a hit and let it seep into my lungs, I’m not gonna talk about my cheating ex and all the damage she caused while being sober if I don't have to. Not with Finn, he can see through any lie I try to throw at him; it's why he won't let it go with Reese. He knows damn well she’s quickly becoming anything but “just a friend”, but like I said, I don't do relationships. Not anymore.

This meeting with the O’Connell crime family is to broker a new deal. There’s been word of a war brewing between the O’Connells and the Segretos, which explains why Sebastian wanted to meet with us, and they both need ammo. Our less-than-legal ammo distribution is the club’s main income source, and it’s highly sought after here on the East Coast. We don’t deal guns; we choose not to have those wars hanging over our heads, but if the fight has already started and they're gonna need bullets anyway might as well make our buck off of it. We like to flirt with the line between moral and morally corrupt.

Killian and Conor O’Connell and a few beefy Irishmen stroll into the chapel. Killian and Conor take a seat at the opposite end of the table from Ronan, their muscled cousins standing like a wall behind them. Killian and Conor took the reins of their family at a young age, with Killian being our age and Conor being a few years younger, and although they’re cousins they look more like brothers. Both with floppy brown hair and strong jawlines. The only difference between the two is their eyes; Killian has vibrant green eyes while Conor’s are light blue. They’re both closer to my build, still tall but shorter than say Finn and Sebastian, and just as muscled as me.

Without wasting any time, Ronan gets straight into business. “Look, I’ll be straight with you, Killian. Sebastian Segreto made us an offer, but because of our friendship I wanted to offer you a chance to outbid him.” Ronan says, leaning back in his chair, looking like a goddamn cucumber he's so chill. The meeting shouldn’t turn violent, the O’Connells are long time buyers and friends of ours, but there aren’t many sellers with as much stock as us, and desperation can make a man do some stupid shit.

Conor, Killian’s second, curses when hearing Sebastian’s name. “Of course the Italian prick would try to get his bullets through our fucking connection, it’s just like that slimy fuck!”

Killian raises his hand to calm Conor. “How much?” He looks at Ronan.

“Double.” Ronan crosses his arms, deliberately placing his hand over the butt of his gun holstered under his arm.

Killian drags a hand down his face. “We’ll triple it.” Conor shakes his head in frustration, his cool stare glaring at his cousin, but Killian shoots him a stern look that causes Conor to look away. Holy shit, that’s a fuck ton of money. We’re gonna be goddamn rich after this shit starts up, well more than we already are. Between our own businesses and our underground ammo distribution, the biker lifestyle has been quite lucrative. It’s been a while since a good Italian mafia/Irish mob war went down, and now I can’t fucking wait.

Ronan leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. He’s smiling and his friendly demeanor is back now that business is taken care of. “Great, I’ll pass my regards to Sebastian.” He stands and walks to the middle of the table, right behind Saint and Nathan, Killian joins him and they shake hands. No true business deal is sealed without a proper handshake, because that’s exactly what this is, business. “Enjoy the party, brother, we threw it for you,” Ronan smirks, the smug bastard.

“As ya fucking should have, asshole. Seeing as I'm paying for it with the amount of money ya just scammed me out of.” His Irish accent peeking through now that he’s relaxed and laughing. Ronan just shrugs and opens the door, clearly ending the meeting.

17

REESE

The moment Callumwalks away I feel a weight on my chest. I feel so stupid admitting this, but it’s easier to breathe when he’s around. I can’t help but watch him walk away, the crowd is different here, they don’t part when he walks by, scared of who he is and the patch on his back. They still move away from him but here he has the respect of everyone in the room. He’s different here too, his shoulders are more relaxed and he isn't constantly scanning the room; he’s at peace here with his club brothers.

“So you’re Callum’s girlfriend?” Peyton pops a cherry into her mouth and smiles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, turning my attention from Callum to my drink. “No, we’re just friends; he’s helping with a problem of mine.”

“Callum doesn't bring girls here.” She slides her gaze up and down a passing guy, thoroughly undressing him with her eyes. When she catches my eyes again she shrugs and smirks, grabbing another cherry from the small bowl in front of her.

I ignore her comment, Callum only brought me here because nobody else was available to babysit me. “So you’re a bartender here?”

She turns her chair so she’s facing the rest of the club and leans her arms behind her onto the bar, pushing her small chest out. “I bartend at The Second Circle, but when the club has parties, some of the bartenders and strippers get our shifts switched to here.”

I choke on the sip I just took. “Strippers?” I manage to cough out.

Peyton cackles so loud the guys playing pool look over. “Yeah, the doors the guys just walked into,” she points across the clubhouse to two sets of double doors, “the ones next to it are used as a club. The best strippers always work the club parties.” My eyes are bugging out of my head, but Peyton hasn't noticed, she just keeps talking. “It’s called Purgatory. Since the club owns the strip club, The Second Circle, most of the strippers are sweet butts just trying to get some Outlaw dick, but you know, whatever floats their fake tits.”

Now I'm giggling, partly out of being uncomfortable and partly because this girl is just hilarious! “Did you just call them ‘sweet butts’?”

“Yeah, sweet butts, cut sluts, it’s like a groupie but for bikers. Nothing like you, you’re Old Lady material.” I roll my eyes and take another drink, I’m not going to spend my night trying to convince her Callum and I are just friends; even if he does make my body do irrational things. Mason slides onto the barstool on my other side, combing his brown hair out of his eyes. Peyton eyes him, laughing. “Speaking of sweet butts, how's Jessica, Mase?”

---