I clutched his arm before one of the men could drag me off. “I’m not going anywhere,” I declared.
Brock’s jaw hardened, not taking his eyes off Clark. “Yes, you fuckin’ are.”
I held my ground. “I’m the one that is involved in this whole mess. I’d like to see it to the end.” My voice was strong.
Brock sighed. “You got ten seconds then I disregard what my brother and my woman say and I do the world a favor,” Brock hissed.
“I want to propose a truce,” Clark said simply, unbuttoning his suit jacket in the weird way men did.
“Not gonna happen,” Brock replied.
Clark didn’t seem surprised at this. “I already know you are trying your hardest to make sure I don’t see my next birthday. I assume you already know the resources I have at my disposal. Neither of us wants war, I’m sure. And I can guarantee you don’t want to lose any more brothers.” He glanced at Bull knowingly. “Or women.”
The men all stiffened at the threat and Bull stepped forward, hand on his gun. Steg held him back.
“That’s the last time you threaten my brothers and even fuckin mention our women,” Cade cut in calmly, “or I’ll put a bullet in you myself. I don’t care if I’ve got a whole bus full of witnesses.”
Clark nodded. “Fair enough. I only wanted to point out that this is a fight that you neither need nor want. I would rather not have a nationwide motorcycle club,” his eyes rested pointedly on me before going back to Cade, “interrupting my life. And I’m sure you could do without any complications resulting from this. So I would like to suggest a ceasefire.”
“You took one of our women. Fucking tortured her. Nearly killed her. You really think we’re gonna forgive and forget that?” Cade answered.
Clark shook his head. “I do not. I do suggest I will overlook the slaying of almost a dozen of my men and personally deliver the man responsible for the injuries Amy sustained during her stay with me.”
“So you think handing us one of your foot soldiers is enough to forget what you did? Think again, old man,” Cade glared at him.
“Rafael is not a foot soldier,” Clark said calmly. “He is my son.”
I hissed in a breath and this and even the staunch men were taken aback. This was fucked up.
“You think I’d trust a man willing to kill his own kin in order to save himself?” Cade bit out in disgust.
A glimmer of something flicked through Clark’s eyes. “Why else would I hand over my son if I wasn’t going to keep my word?”
There was silence as everyone chewed on this.
“You hand him to us, and any fuckin’ inkling that I get you’re setting your eyes in our general direction it’s war,” Cade said finally.
Clark nodded. “I assure you we will never cross paths again. You have my word.” He handed Cade a card.
All of the men simultaneously stepped forward as he held it out, Brock pulling me behind his back yet again.
Clark ignored this. “A number you can reach me on. You pick the time and place for our exchange.”
He glanced around the group. “Good doing business with you, gentlemen.” His eyes found mine. “As always, Miss Abrams, a pleasure. Be well.”
“The pleasure was all yours,” I snapped.
Clark turned around and got into his car. We all stood and watched it pull out of the lot.
“That guy is off his fuckin rocker insane.” Lucky broke the silence.
“Back to the clubhouse. Now,” Cade commanded. He looked at Brock. “Bring Amy. I’m getting Gwen and Belle. We’re on lockdown until I’m satisfied this crazy fucker means what he says.”
“I have to say I’m growing to hate these lockdowns,” Rosie declared, sipping a margarita.
I sipped my own. “Me too. As much as I love a good margarita and the quality of the company, I’m not too fond of the not being able to leave part.”
“I know, and I had a date tonight.” Rosie frowned down at her phone.
I perked up, loving to hear about Rosie’s latest men. They rivaled the revolving door I had back in my heyday. I don’t know where she found them all, considering she had an entire clubhouse full of protective older brothers.
“This guy is a professional swimmer. You should see his arms.” Her face was dreamy.
I myself thought her serial dating was an effort to forget about a certain law enforcement officer who had a serious hatred for her brother. That had dimmed slightly, however, with his fondness for Gwen and baby Belle. I suspected he still wanted to put Cade behind bars, but his friendship with Gwen had made him slightly less eager to have Belle grow up without a father. He came into the store sometimes bearing coffee and giving us some eye candy. His banter with Rosie was easy, but I caught the way she looked at him.
“Dreamier than Luke?” I asked mischievously.
Rosie’s face snapped to me. “What are you talking about?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You know what I’m talking about. It’s time you gave me the lowdown.”
Before I could get the goss Gwen plonked down beside me, snatching my glass. “So getting Belle to sleep in an unfamiliar bedroom was not the funnest thing in the world, especially when she decided that today was the day she was going to give me my first experience of projectile poo,” she declared, draining my drink.
I screwed my nose up at this. Gross.
“Luckily I’ve got good reflexes. I would have had a minor breakdown if I got crap on this dress. It’s vintage.”
Gwen didn’t look like one of those stressed out, sleep-deprived mothers with unstyled hair and a slightly crazed gaze. Her chocolate brown hair was shiny and falling around her face. Her outfit was, like always, perfect. And she had pretty much lost all of her baby weight; the extra she was still carrying actually looked good on her. The bitch.
“That’s why I’m not having kids,” I informed them. “That and I’m quite fond of how my vagina looks.”