by Lane Hart
“How’s the money looking? Think we could pull it off?” I ask Roman.
“Yeah, I think we could handle something like this for several hundred people easy. I think we have to,” our president declares. “If Madison doesn’t win this election, all of our businesses could go under, and then no telling what would happen to the Kings.”
“So, she’s, like, our last hope,” Leo asks.
“Yeah, she is,” I agree.
“Let’s try and stay on her good side,” Roman tells me. “Saving her last night will get us a few points, but don’t do anything to make her hate you.”
“Hate me?” I echo in confusion.
“He means don’t fuck her and leave her high and dry holding a grudge against you, which will include the entire MC,” Verek explains.
“I’ve already told her I wouldn’t sleep with her,” I admit to everyone in the room. Although, now that I’ve said it aloud, it’s like it’s real and there won’t be any takebacks. Fuck. Too late now. “If I can’t get rid of her in the morning, then I don’t want to even go there.”
“Good,” Roman replies. “You’re finally doing the right thing for once when it comes to women.”
“I’ve never heard any complaints before or regrets,” I can’t help but respond.
“Most of the calls asking about the club’s re-opening are from women asking how you are,” Leo says with a smirk.
“See? They’re worried about me, not hating me for giving them a night they’ll never forget.”
“Well, let’s not take the chance on Madison Monroe having regrets that would negatively affect the MC.”
“Fine! I’ve already said I won’t sleep with her,” I tell him.
“Yes, but for some reason, that doesn’t comfort me,” Roman mutters with his brow furrowed. I’m about to ask what he means when he asks, “Any other business before we adjourn to Bailey’s house?” When no one adds anything, he picks up the gavel and slams it down. “Let’s go.”
As we all get up to head out, Roman stops me with a hand on my arm and says, “Let me do most of the talking at Bailey’s. I’ll leave the video message to you, and that’s it.”
“Okay. Got it, prez.”
“I hope so,” he replies.
“Too bad it’s too cold for our bikes,” Winston grumbles. “Hard to be intimidating in a bunch of cars and SUVs.”
“We’ll make it work,” Roman replies with a smile as he clasps him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, spring will be here before we know it.”
“You’re staying back, right?” I ask Conrad when I catch up to him.
“I don’t want to, but I’m not stupid,” my brother says. “No reason to give Bailey a chance to arrest me or provoke me again. The next time I hit him, I may not be able to stop, especially if Hannah’s not there to pull me off of him.”
“You lay low. In fact, why don’t you and Hannah go stay at one of the club’s beach houses? They ran off our tenants and shut them down to tourists; but as part owner, you could stay there anytime you want.”
“Why? You want to be alone with Madison or something?” he asks. “You heard Roman. If you piss her off, we’re fucked.”
“No, that thought didn’t even cross my mind,” I tell him honestly. And since my brother knows me better than anyone, he can probably hear that I’m telling the truth. “Besides, you’re the one who was trying to get me to fuck her last night.”
“I didn’t tell you to fuck her, I just didn’t think it was realistic that you wouldn’t end up fucking. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever,” I say, because I really don’t want to let myself go down the road and start thinking about fucking Madison. If I start, I may not be able to stop until I have her. “The point I was trying to make is that if Bailey wants to arrest you, our house and here are the first places he’ll look. Don’t make it easy on him. Spend as much time with Hannah while you can. I know you missed her the last three months.”
“Okay, maybe. I’ll ask her and see what she thinks,” Conrad replies.
“Good. If you’re not home when I get back tonight, I’ll call and let you know how everything went.”
“Hopefully, I’ll get to see it for myself on the news.”
“Hopefully,” I agree, because I’m not sure if the media will show up or not for Madison. They didn’t when she made her announcement, but I think this story is different. It’s one that will grab the whole town’s attention.
Chapter Sixteen
Madison
“Holy crap, that’s a lot of cameras,” I say, showing the photos Harlen sent me to Lily and Vanessa of the scene in front of the police station. The three of us, along with the two prospects, of course, decided to have an early lunch before the press conference. Harlen decided to skip class to attend as my media coordinator. I told him that was unnecessary; but after what happened, he said he thought being there was more important than an hour of lecture. I hope he doesn’t regret making such a sacrifice for me.
“We should probably get moving,” Lily says. “If you’re still sure about this?”
“I am,” I say even though I feel like I may pass out as soon as I stand up from the nerves. What if no one believes me? Shit. “Jake, Lucas, would you two mind if I name you as witnesses from last night?” I ask the guys sitting at the table next to ours.
“Go for it,” Lucas says.
“Doesn’t matter to me. Chicks dig heroes,” Jake says, looking like he’s feeling better after a burger and a milkshake.
“Good, because I don’t want anyone to say I’m making it all up.” Lowering my voice, I tell them, “We should probably cut out the part about you both chasing after the bad guys with guns.”
“Why?” Lucas asks. “We’ve got carry conceal permits. We’re legal.”
“You are?” I say in surprise.
“Yes, ma’am.” Great, now they’re responding to me like they do Cannon. Speak of the devil, both Lucas’ and Jake’s phones ding like they have a new message at the same time. Jake reads it aloud first. “Cannon said the Kings are about to leave the clubhouse. They should be at Bailey’s in five.”
“Okay, good,” I say with a sigh of relief.
“Cannon also said he’s got some fundraising ideas to run past you when you meet back up at the office after everything goes down.”
“Well, hasn’t he been a busy boy today,” I remark. And dammit, I will not continue to let myself miss him. Not even a little. There are two young men right across from me who are armed and ready to protect me from any would-be assholes, and yet I don’t feel as safe as I do when Cannon’s near me. Maybe the prospects were right about what they said earlier – that Cannon would take a bullet for me. Does that mean I don’t think Jake or Lucas will? No, I believe they would do it, because they don’t want to let the Savage Kings down, not just because they wanted to keep me out of harm’s way.
Does that mean that I think Cannon’s reasons for staying close are personal? Nah, that’s absurd. His job is to help me stay in one piece so that I can win the election and keep the Savage Kings from going under. Nothing more.
Cannon
Bailey’s driveway isn’t big enough to accommodate ten vehicles, so some of us are forced to pull up along the sidewalk, which is where I park my SUV and climb out. The asshole in question is already coming out of the house with his gun in his hand before Roman even rings the doorbell. Several brothers hurry in front of him, making sure he doesn’t take any stray bullets. None of us are jumpy, but Bailey would only get off one good shot before we all would cut him down. He must know that too.
“What the hell do you all want?” Bailey yells from the porch. “Get off my property, or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing!”
His comment makes me glad that I insisted that Conrad stay behind. No reason to poke the bear unnecessarily. In fact, as the fat bastard’s eyes search the faces that are closing in around him, it looks like he’s searching for someone in particular. My guess is proved ri
ght when his gaze lands on me and his eyes narrow.
“That’s Cannon, not Conrad,” Roman tells him from behind a wall of men. “And we’ll leave just as soon as we pass along a message.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Bailey asks. “You think you can sweet talk me into convincing the city to give you back your permits?” His posture relaxes a little, like he’s certain we’re there to grovel at his feet. I can’t wait until he realizes how wrong he is.
“Stay the fuck away from Madison Monroe,” Roman warns him about the time I make it to the front of the group.
Bailey’s eyes blink in surprise, and then his mouth is moving but nothing is coming out. Finally, he blubbers, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The two men you sent after her? Have you heard from them yet? Your plan failed. My men were one step ahead of you,” Roman says. “Cannon?”
I pull up one of the local news station’s apps on my phone and click to go live. It’s a few minutes past noon, which means the station has had time to go on air for the noon broadcast before turning it over to Madison’s press conference. God, she looks just as beautiful on camera as in person. Not only that, she looks commanding, like an actual queen who was made to lead. Overcoming my momentary distraction, I press the buttons on the side of my phone to increase the volume as loud as it will go and then take a few steps closer to Bailey, holding it up to him so he can hear her and see her on the screen.
“What happened last night was not only a failure to intimidate me into dropping out of the special election for mayor, but it was also a failure of the public system, which is paid to protect the people of this city, the women of this city, from harm. The scare tactic didn’t work. Instead, it’s given me the courage to stand up and call out the man responsible and to tell former Chief Bailey, that I’m not scared of him. His influence on the police department could have cost me my life. But instead, I was protected by a group of men who may have a reputation for being vigilantes when, in fact, they’re the only ones who have the courage to stand up to fight the bad guys, even when the bad guys are masquerading as civil servants, pretending to be one of the good guys. The Savage Kings MC heard my screams. They came to my rescue when the police wouldn’t. My attackers ran from these men, just as my opponent wanted me to run from him and this race. With my new allies by my side, I’m no longer scared of the threats made against my life while a knife was held to my throat by a man, allowing another to rip my clothing apart and assault me.”
Roman looks at me wide-eyed at that since I apparently hadn’t told him all of those details before. Or maybe he’s surprised that Madison is actually calling the Kings heroes. Either way, it’s highly unusual to shock our president. What can I say, she’s a force of nature, and I can’t help but feel proud of her.
I turn my attention from Roman to Bailey, who looks speechless. His lip is still a little swollen from my brother’s fist, and his eyes are darkly ringed, making him look like a giant, floundering raccoon.
“We won’t warn you again,” Roman says, his voice almost a growl. “Madison Monroe isn’t backing down, so you better put all of your energy into beating her fairly and legitimately. Because after what I just heard, along with everyone else in this city, you’ve just earned yourself an actual fight.”
Chapter Seventeen
Madison
Not only did the press actually show up to hear my story this time, but most of the journalists stayed around to ask me questions once the press conference was over. I took time to answer each and every one. And while, at first, the questions were all about the night before, eventually they got them all out of their systems and finally started to ask me about my plans for mayor if I win the election.
Unlike last night, standing there in front of the police station that let me down, I felt like I had taken my power back from the men who tried to hurt me and make me retreat. The only thing I felt like I was missing was seeing Cannon in the crowd, although I’m sure he probably caught some of my speech on his phone, which was part of the plan when he met Bailey. Still, it’s not the same as seeing his face in the crowd.
Everyone is excited and talkative on the way back to the office, congratulating me and telling me they were floored by the way I had the press hanging on to my every word. I’m not sure about all that.
All I know is that once I walked back into my office and took a seat behind the desk, it finally hit me that this is all real. I’m actually running a campaign now. The phone out front is ringing like crazy, which I hope means that we’ve got supporters calling in.
I’m still in a state of shock when I hear the front door open and then Cannon’s voice asking if I’m in my office. I get to my feet to go and meet him, to find out what happened with Bailey. The two of us are both in such a hurry that we collide right inside the doorway of my office.
“Shit, sorry!” Cannon says with a chuckle as his arms wrap around my waist to keep me upright. My face is practically smashed into his chest when my hands grab the first thing they touch – the open sides of his cut. His familiar clean scent mixed with the leather and his rich smelling cologne hits me even harder than his actual body. And since we’re already so close, halfway there, I make a split-second decision to lift my arms to his shoulders to hug him.
His large frame tenses against me for a moment before his palms on my back pull me tighter. I love the way it feels to be surrounded and protected by this hard strength, more than I probably should.
“You were amazing,” he whispers next to my ear, his lips almost brushing my check when he leans in and inhales deeply. I know exactly what he’s referring to, but his smooth velvety voice makes it sound like something else entirely, something he would say after a night in his bed.
Goosebumps race down my arms so fast I shiver from just that quick thought before I force myself to take a step back, putting space between our bodies, even if my own is incredibly disappointed. I feel a blush warming my cheeks and turn away, walking back to my chair.
“So, how did it go with Bailey?” I ask once I’m safely behind the desk. Cannon’s still near the doorway, a safe distance away where I can’t touch him or drown in his cologne.
Cannon clears his throat and then comes over to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk, sprawling in his usual manly way. “He was stunned,” he says, his gaze lowered to the stack of folders and papers spread in front of me.
“Stunned?” I repeat, wanting to know more.
“I think Roman was too,” he says with a grin as he finally lifts his dazzling, blue eyes to mine.
“What do you mean?”
“They both underestimated you. I think I did too,” he explains, sounding incredibly serious all of a sudden. “Anyway, we warned him to stay away; he threatened to have us arrested for trespassing, and then he waddled back inside angry as fuck after he heard your speech.”
“Good,” I reply with a sigh.
“Looked like you had a good turnout,” Cannon remarks. “You made the headlines on all the local news station sites, the newspaper, and you were even trending on Twitter.”
“Really?” I ask in disbelief. “I didn’t know about Twitter.”
“Congrats, you finally got the attention you deserved, and people are seeing you as an actual contender,” Cannon says. “Now what happens?”
“Well, now we try to get the money flowing and start shooting some videos and photos for advertising.”
“Which brings me to the idea the Kings had at our meeting earlier,” Cannon says.
“Let’s hear it.”
He arches one dark blond eyebrow and says, “Keep an open mind. Our people, our friends and family and…supporters are all just normal folks. They’re not rich and classy like the people you’re used to.”
I open my mouth to object to that wrong assessment when Cannon holds up his palm to stop me.
“Let me finish, then you can bitch about it,” he says. “Since Mardi Gras is coming up, one of the guys suggeste
d that be the theme. Winston wants to do a custom Harley raffle. And there was also some mention of us giving out beads. Really, it would be a party with food and drinks, everyone twenty-one and up, music, people hanging out and having fun while you dazzle them with all you have to offer.”
When he finally stops talking, his fingers are clutching the armrest on the chair as if he’s bracing himself for a fight. And while it isn’t an idea I would’ve gone with on my own, I can see how it could be fun and attract plenty of people. Besides, I know Cannon is trying to help and so are the Savage Kings. I don’t want to put him in the middle of any arguments.
“That sounds…great,” I tell him.
“Great?” he repeats. “Did you say great?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You hate it.” He makes it a comment and not a question.
“No, I think it’s a great idea, which is what I just said.”
“You don’t think it’s stupid?”
“No. Why? Do you?” I ask him.
“No.”
“Well, you’re the only biker I know. So, if you think the people you associate with will have fun, then I’m all for it.”
“You mean have fun and raise you a shit ton of money?”
“The more money, the better, of course,” I agree with a smile.
“Okay. So, what do you think about next Saturday night?”
“Next Saturday? That’s soon.”
“Sooner the better, right?
“Right. Yeah, sure,” I agree as I grab my phone from the desk to put it on the calendar. “What do you need me to do?” I ask while putting in the details.
“It would probably be a good idea to get some photos of you sitting on the Harley that’s up for the raffle to use on social media.”
“Okay,” I answer with a shrug. “As long as I don’t have to try and drive it.”
“Nope. Just photos. Can’t have you damaging the merchandise before people pay twenty bucks for a raffle ticket.”