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I shrugged. I didn’t quite buy the excuse, but Boonie obviously had his reasons. Hell, anything that got me away from Becca for the moment had to be good, right?

“Okay.”

Ten minutes later, Rourke stood and worked his way toward the front of the bar, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

Fucking great.

Now I had to go out there and pretend to smoke. Deep smirked at me, and for a moment I wondered if they were setting me up just to fuck with my head. Then Boonie nudged me with his boot, and I caught his gaze again. The man was all business—nope, he wasn’t fucking with me.

“Gonna grab a smoke,” I announced, then stood and walked toward the front of the bar. I opened the door and looked around, spotting Rourke on the corner of the porch, casually lighting up.

“You got an extra?” I asked him.

“Sure,” he said, holding out his pack. I pulled one out. It felt so good in my fingers that it hurt. Fuck, I wanted that smoke. Almost as much as I wanted Becca.

Both would kill me.

“Light?” he asked. I considered it, then shook my head. If someone came out I’d light it, but we were alone for now. I’d talk to him, save the smoke for when I actually needed the cover.

That’s me. Regular fucking saint.

“So what’s up?” I asked him. “Boonie said you wanted to meet.”

“I think we’ve got a situation the club can help us with,” he said slowly. “The Vegas Belles—that new strip club that opened near the Washington-Idaho border. I hear they’re pulling business from the Reapers’ strip club.”

I shrugged, wondering where he was headed with this. I’d heard from Painter a few days ago, and Malloy was right. Profits at The Line had been suffering ever since the new place opened just down the street. So far they hadn’t taken action, but that wouldn’t last forever. Sooner or later the Vegas Belles would either get pulled into the Reapers’ fold or shut down—that’s the way things worked in north Idaho.

“Haven’t heard much about it,” I said.

“They’re a front for the Callaghans,” Roarke said, leaning forward against the rail. “Jamie Callaghan is moving in, getting ready for Shane McDonogh’s twenty-first birthday. That’s when everything comes to a head for us. If Jamie wins, they’ll put Shane away and control of the Laughing Tess will move out of the valley forever. You don’t want Jamie in charge. Trust me on that.”


“Why do you care?” I asked. “Lay it out for me—a show of faith would go a long way here.”

“They sent me to Northwoods to keep Shane in the fold,” he replied. “He’s supposed to be one of us, you know. The Callaghans always planned to bring him in but he’s never been very good at following orders. I guess I’m not, either.”

“What about your dad?” I asked bluntly. “He’s not a man to cross. What will he think?”

“He’s not a Callaghan, either,” Rourke replied, shrugging. “They may think he is, but Dad cares about himself and nobody else. Not me, not my mother. None of it. I could give two fucks about that asshole.”

Interesting. That didn’t match our intel.

“So what’s the plan?”

He eyed me speculatively.

“Is the MC in or out?”

“I don’t speak for the club,” I said. “The brothers vote. You want me to bring something to the table, you need to give it to me first.”

“Fair enough,” he said, stubbing out his smoke. He’d hardly touched it and I wondered if he was even a smoker. Fucking waste. Christ, I wanted to light up. My fingers literally itched for it. “Shane needs to hold on until he’s twenty-one. That’s when his court-ordered house arrest ends and he takes control of the Laughing Tess. Sounds simple enough, but they throw new shit at us constantly, trying to wiggle out of his grandfather’s will. Bullshit legal filings, mental competency hearings, you name it. We think they tried to poison him last week, although it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Thought they needed him alive?”

“Define ‘alive,’” he muttered. “They find a way to turn him into a vegetable, that’d suit their needs just fine. His mom will file for permanent guardianship and take over the Laughing Tess. That’s a win for the Callaghans—when Christina’s mouth moves, Jamie’s voice comes out. I’m here to tell you that it’s time to take sides, and the club needs to back Shane. Otherwise the valley is fucked.”

I nodded, thinking he was probably right. They’d siphon off everything until there was nothing left. Hell, they’d already managed to fuck the miners in the ass. The local union had been screaming about safety equipment for years, but the nationals pretended not to hear. We had the Callaghans to thank for that.

“So what do you want?”

“Shane wants to meet you,” he said. “We’ll sneak you into the school tonight. We’ve set up a party—lots of local kids coming. That’ll be your cover if anyone sees you around. Just another asshole looking to get drunk up at the academy, chasing after a girl or a fight or whatever.”

Explained why Boonie picked me, I decided. At twenty-six I wasn’t exactly a kid, but I was the youngest full member of the club.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll come talk to him. But I want something to give my president for now.”


Tags: Joanna Wylde Silver Valley Romance