Seychelle glanced toward the bar, but Preacher and Sabelia had already disappeared inside the building. Seychelle wondered if Brandon had anything to do with Shari’s hatred of her.
“Shit,” Fatei hissed under his breath. “Come on, Seychelle. Let’s go.”
“Were you looking for me?” Seychelle asked, trying to get a feel for Shari’s voice.
“Yes,” Shari snapped. “You don’t stand a chance in hell of keeping him. You know that, don’t you? A prissy little thing like you can’t begin to know what he likes.”
“Do I know you?” Seychelle asked, her gaze moving over Shari’s expression. Her eyes looked glassy. Drunk? Was she hypnotized? Did she really hate Seychelle that much? And what was she saying about Savage?
“Seychelle.” Fatei indicated the back door. “You need to get inside.”
“Run away,” Shari sneered.
“What exactly do you want?” Seychelle challenged, ignoring Fatei. He put a restraining hand on her arm, and she shook it off, her chin up, her eyes cool as she regarded Shari.
FIFTEEN
What the fuck? He’d made himself very clear. Stick with the band. Stay right with them. Did she do it? No. There she was. Seychelle. She looked . . . gorgeous. A little wild. A sinful temptation to any biker. He should have made himself very clear to Fatei, not to her. She was completely oblivious to the way the men looked at her. He’d noticed that before. She looked at them through the eyes of the healer, not the woman.
She had that voice. That body—tits and ass. All that thick, wild hair. Those eyes and that mouth. Now she was absolutely challenging Shari and her friend right in front of the two Diamondbacks, who were already a little obsessed with her. Not to mention Brandon lurking around the corner like a creep. She was ignoring Fatei’s instructions to get her ass back in the bar; in fact, she shook his hand off her arm.
Savage was going to kill that woman after he punished her and then fucked her brains out. He had a job to do, and it wasn’t looking after her. Or even watching her. He was lying up on a rooftop with his rifle, eye to his scope, backing up his sister. Pierce had made his request to speak with Alena formally, and Czar had had little choice but to agree to it.
Pierce had maneuvered them into a corner, and he knew it. They’d listened to Plank laying out his concerns about the Venomous club. It hadn’t come as a huge surprise to them that the club continued to try to chop away at Diamondback territory. They moved into a small section without permission, without respect, and acted as if they were just a weekend club, doing nothing but getting together to have a good time. If the Diamondbacks made a move against them, to law enforcement and civilians, the Diamondbacks would look like an outlaw club bullying a group of nice weekend dads getting together to ride. In truth, Venomous was anything but.
Torpedo Ink had seen the tactic used over and over. The moment the larger club defended their territory, they were in the wrong to the outside world, but if they didn’t defend it, inevitably they were perceived as weak, and they lost it. Venomous was coming at them from all directions, hitting chapter after chapter. Plank wanted Torpedo Ink to quietly take care of the problem before, during or after the run. Just make it go away but make it look like an accident, or if they got into a fight, anything that would distance itself from the Diamondbacks.
Plank had information that the Venomous club intended to take over the Mendocino territory first. It had already begun chipping away at the borders, swallowing the outside edges of the county and moving to take smaller pieces a little at a time. The county was rural and hard to patrol. Venomous frequented the Torpedo Ink bar and were often seen in Fort Bragg and Sea Haven as well as Caspar, all Diamondback territory. The Venomous club members were wearing their colors openly when riding, a major sign of disrespect when they’d never gone to the Diamondbacks to ask permission to be in their territory.
Plank had been very specific about the targets. He had rumors of a conspiracy to kill him. He even had somewhat of a vague timeline. Supposedly, he and a few of his inner circle were to be assassinated on the run that was coming up. When questioned, he’d admitted to using a couple of the patch chasers to get information. Whether it was good data or not still had to be confirmed, but Savage suspected it was. The Venomous club members were all too cocky when they showed up wearing their colors in the bar and at local events. They believed they were in control.
Then Pierce had made his request to talk to Alena, and he’d made it through Plank, his president. It was impossible to deny him, the way Plank presented his case. Plank claimed they hadn’t known Tawny would be at the last meet. She’d lied to hurt Alena. Pierce wanted a chance to explain things. Plank felt he’d had a hand in making things worse between the two and would appreciate a few minutes of Alena’s time.