Page 164 of Come Back To Me

Being an older member, he’s familiar with my uncle from his earlier days at the club. “I know,”I reply, “but we have to get down to some business that involves him. I need all of you to know, Rippers are in some serious shit.”

Any joy they were feeling gets zapped out of the room upon my words.

I bring them up to speed with everything they need to know. From the contents of the shipments to the fact Rippers have been pulled in to stop it. Some want war; The Joker, Len and Skitz. Others want to do this quietly. All of us want this to end.

The task of being their leader never stopped being hard, even when I wasn’t here. “We need a plan to find their haul beforewe move it. And we need to make one quick.” I browse their faces, lighting yet another smoke as I do.

“Going to need more than just a plan. You’ll have to call our supplier, up our personal order,” Travis says.

I nod. “I’ll call him. You reckon triple it?”

Travis agrees, dipping his chin.

“Riggs, all bills paid, fees collected?” I query. He nods. A triple order won’t come cheap. “We’ll meet with Vincent later, see if we can scope any way inside.”

Travis nods as Captain laughs impassively, leaning around Beats to see me. “Inside. Like mission fucking impossible? We don’t stand a chance trying to do what you’re suggesting, Prez, especially if we're asking Saviours to join us.”

Beats chews a toothpick, nodding his head. “Never going to happen,” he says to himself in agreement.

Letting out a puff of smoke, I look to Captain who sips his beer. It’s not my suggestion; to get inside. I would do what the guys achieved last time, intercept and lose the cargo. But Jack wants his man. And long term, do we really want this popping up again?

Mop runs a hand over his face. “We need a show of force, brother,” he says, silencing the room.

I look up, seeing him resolute.

“We’ve gone into this whole fucking thing trying to maintain power and keep the peace. But by doing so, Rippers are slowly being pushed out.” He sighs rubbing his head, not looking at anyone else around the table. I keep a straight face but see everyone else silently agreeing with him. “Costa walked in here, told us what to do, and like pussies we agreed. For you. For this club.”

Our eyes meet, and I feel my body tense. Blame. Weakness. It shines bright in his eyes. I scratch my thumb along my bottom lip, sitting forward. My mind’s screaming at me not to blow afuse. “We voted it.”

“I know, brother. But we voted to allow them to transport guns. Not this. Now things have changed.”

The goal posts, as Mads put it, have shifted. I’m not stupid. “What are you proposing?”

“I’m proposing we find what we’re looking for, then get rid of them all, not try to infiltrate them. We have, what, a week—if we’re lucky, before the next shipment will be confirmed?”

Travis nods, knowing better than me how this operation ran last time.

“I say we just go find him and wipe him off the map.”

Everyone stays quiet, waiting for me to talk. “War will destroy everyone. Stocking up our own supply makes sense, but trying to wipe everyone out? No good can come from that.”

I take a sip of my beer, my brain shutting down, unable to see any way out. I pull at my jumper, feeling it tightening around my neck.Not now.Why the fuck does this keep happening to me? The last wall goes up in front of me, everything around me turns black.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.Air. I need air, desperately. I don’t know myself anymore. Whatever the fuck this is, I’m going out of my mind.

I dart from my chair and make my way downstairs. Practically kicking the door open, I step outside, my eyes adjusting to the light as my vision shakes, doubling everything in front of me. Show me some mercy. “Please,” I pray to no one, my hands resting on my knees as I bend over. My ship is sinking. My world burning down. The impossible has never seemed so impossible. My mind feels like an enemy. Leaving me choking, it’s determined to make me suffer at every fucking bend.

“Dean?” I hear my name, but I don’t look up. I keep my eyes shut. I can’t see past the walls. How many times is this going to happen? My life, thisfuckinglife. It’s taken its toll. “Dean.” Ineed relief. “Dean!” The voice shouts louder, making my eyes dart open.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Pulling my gaze from my feet, I look up. Legs is watching me, his face weary. Standing straight, he scans me all over. I realise I’m seconds away from panting like a dog, my back fully pushed against the wall, so to speak.

“Everything okay?”

Jesus Christ.No. “Yeah.”

I’m not sure if he’s buying my bullshit. “Thought you were at the table?”

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