The guys crack up, which eases some of the tension from the morning’s events.
Z lifts his chin at Rooster. “That’s a thing, isn’t it? Swatting? Someone makes a prank call to emergency services about a serious threat taking place, just for shits and giggles?”
“That’s slightly different.” Rooster taps his fingers against the table as if he’s considering all options. “They would’ve battered down our front gate and door, not patiently waited to get a warrant and explain it to our lawyer.”
“I can’t decide if that’s better or worse,” Z says.
“You think it’s possible Tawny was pissed about the ban and orchestrated this?” Jigsaw asks.
“She’s a bitch but she’s always been loyal to the club,” I say, even though defending Tawny feels unnatural. “Her tricks are the kind of stunt she pulled with Serena. Not bringing in law enforcement.”
“It couldn’t have been her,” Z says. “Steer and I didn’t have a chance to talk to Sway before the cops showed up.”
“She got arrested with Sway,” Hustler says. “Even Karma doesn’t work that fast.”
“Besides,” Steer adds. “Getting that warrant and showing up the way they did, that takes time and planning. They didn’t do that on a whim.”
“Our officer buddy found out about it,” Z says. “But he only gave me fifteen minutes’ notice.” He lifts his chin at me. “At least it was enough time to get you and Shelby somewhere safe.”
“Thanks, brother.”
“I think they’ve been freezing him out,” Rooster says. “We’re probably lucky he found out at all.”
“Or he’s playing us.” Jigsaw slams his fist against the table. “I’ve never trusted that prick.”
“Same, brother,” Z says.
Someone taps on the closed doors. Dex is closest, so he jumps up to answer.
Lilly’s anxious face comes into view. “Sorry to interrupt. But we just buzzed in Priest and his crew.”
“Fuck.” Z stands and braces his hands on the table. “All right. Let’s try not to show him that we’re rattled. Keep working on getting the place cleaned up. He’ll probably want to have a long chat, so I’ll keep him busy for as long as I can.” Z’s gaze strays to me. He lifts an eyebrow but I’m not sure what he’s asking.
As the room thins out, I approach Z. “You need me, brother?”
“Stay close. I know Priest wants to speak to you, personally.”
“Where’d you think I was gonna go?”
“After this morning, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to go the fuck home, G.”
“Shit happens. We’re fine. Nice little bunker you guys carved out down there. Thank you for making sure I got out in time.”
He stares at me for a few seconds. “I’d go to prison myself before I let you go back inside.”
“Let’s not get extreme.” I clap his shoulder. “You got a wife and son who need you out here.”
He opens his mouth to say something else, but Rock stops next to us. “You trying to avoid Priest?” he asks Z.
Z smirks. “Like the plague.”
Laughing and shaking his head, Rock places his hand on Z’s shoulder and steers him toward the door. Outside the war room, Rock hooks an arm around Z’s neck and yanks him close, saying something against his ear. Z nods quickly, then Rock shoves him toward the front door.
“He worried Priest’s gonna blame him for the raid?”
“No.” He glances at me. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. Just not looking forward to rehashing the last fifteen years again.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “Hopefully, this is the last weekend anyone expects that from you.”
Serena’s at the bar and I step behind it to pull her to my side. “I want to introduce you to our national president as my ol’ lady.”
She glances down at her jeans and sneakers. “I feel like I should be more dressed up to meet the president.”
I tug on the edge of her property patch. “You’re wearing what matters most.” I scan the living room. “Damn, you guys did a good job picking things up out here.”
“We worked from here out.” She nods to the hallway. “They’re working that way. Lilly cleaned up a room for Priest, just in case they wanted to freshen up first.”
There’s still visible damage—holes in the wall, torn furniture—but at least it looks more like a rowdy biker clubhouse that had an out-of-control party than a place that got raided by the cops.
Still, there’s a good chance Priest will come down hard on Z for landing on law enforcement’s radar.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grinder
“Grinder.” Priest’s low, gravelly voice hasn’t changed much.
I turn, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “So glad you’re on the outside, brother.” He holds open his arms and gives me a slow, respectful embrace, as if he’s concerned I turned feral in prison and might give him rabies.
Since there were many days inside I felt closer to a wild animal than a human, I’m not insulted. I accept the embrace and pat his back. “Damn good to see you, brother.”