by J Bree
A man steps into my eye line, a big grin of his tanned face. “Hello there! Welcome to Southern Miss. I’m Finley, you must be Angel.”
I smile and tuck a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, nervous as hell about this entire process. “Uh, thanks! I’m not going to be on campus, just here for like… exams or whatever.”
He grins at me and motions for me to follow him down the hallway. He’s dressed casually but it’s all nice clothes. Designer without being flashy. He obviously comes from money because he carries himself with that lightness that comes from not ever having a single thing to worry about or prove.
I’m jealous as hell.
“Are you sure online classes are for you? The workload can be hard to juggle, there’s still room in the dorms here. Not a lot but there’s some options I could sneak you into,” he says as he opens the door to his office, throwing me a wink as he opens the door for me.
My skin crawls.
It always does around this sort of attention. I hate men taking notice of me in any way, let alone this friendly sort of banter, the type where I’m not sure if he’s flirting or just always like this.
I’d rather be on stage dancing in panties and pasties than be in this small room with this guy. The stage is safe and quiet and like an island out to sea in comparison to the intimacy of this space.
The chairs are next to each other on one side of the desk.
“I’m not really into the formal stuff. I’m pretty hands-on with my students’ schedules and we need to be on top of your course load so this setup and my laptop works best. Do you have yours with you?”
I left it in my car, hidden under my pillow in the trunk. “No, sorry. I didn’t realize I’d be talking to someone today. The last time I transferred I didn’t have to.”
He takes a seat and grins at me when I get myself settled. He’s pointedly not looking at my bare arms and legs but that only makes it worse because it’s clear he wants to. Hell, I should have worn more clothes but the temperature here is like nothing else. I’m not used to the air feeling like hot soup to walk through.
It’s gross.
“You’ve transferred once already? Not enjoying the classes or other interruptions?”
I rub my palms down my thighs. “I’ve moved a couple of times. I’m… I’m staying with family now. I’m here for good.”
It feels like I should say something to reassure him that I’m not going to flunk out or run away from this. I don’t want to look unreliable or like the gutter rat I really am.
My dad used to call kids on the streets that, but he said it with that sorrow in his voice like he wanted so badly to change it for them. I think if the law were on his side a little more he’d have adopted a hundred kids.
Everyone else who uses the term isn’t being so kind.
“Having support is really important while you’re in college. I think you’d have a lot more if you were staying on campus but family is good too. Are they happy with your decision to move here and attend Southern Miss?”
I force a smile. “Oh, they’re thrilled to have me home. Life is great here and I’ll have so much support while I study.”
He nods as though he’s really thinking about what I’m saying and grabs one of the notebooks from his desk. “Look, I think it would be best if we scheduled in some time each semester to keep in touch and make sure you’re keeping up with your classes.”
That sounds like a pile of steaming shit waiting to happen. “Sure! Sounds great, let’s schedule the first one now so I can keep the day clear on my calendar.”
He grins that easy grin at me again and fills out a card, handing it over and making sure his fingers brush mine. It’s a dick move and one I was expecting so I manage to keep the shudder to myself.
“Call me if you need anything. My office line is on the front but I’ve popped my personal cell phone number on the back in case you need anything out of office hours.”
Sleaze-bag. “That’s so thoughtful, thanks.”
He doesn’t notice my dry tone at all, just leans back in his chair and stares at me expectantly, like he’s waiting for me to flirt with him or hand him my number.
Fuck, I might change mine after this meeting.
“Look I’ve got work and family waiting on me. Thank you for all of your… specialized attention, I’ll be in touch.”
I see the challenge light up in his eyes and my stomach drops.
Fuck.
I don’t wanna be on anyone’s radar.
I just want to disappear.
Chapter Four
Tomi
The party for King’s return lasts a full week.
It’s stupid and it’s reckless but the club also needs something to distract the brothers. Something to make them all forget about the rats, the pigs, and the Demons breathing down our fucking necks.
I don’t forget it though.
Neither does my family, no matter how fucking wasted we all get, there’s no forgetting the betrayal that’s going down in my fucking house. The rats that have been sleeping under our roof, the traitors who eat at our table, no matter how hard I party I won’t ever forget about that.
I’m a Callaghan through and through, so when I wake up after the party finally ends I’ve never been so fucking hungover in my life. Well, that’s a lie.
I once had to drink Rue under the table to stop him from ruining his own fucking life. That was a hangover I never want to repeat.
Nothing worse than feeling like death warmed up so I drag my sorry ass to take a shower to try to clean myself the hell up. We have church this morning with the Shreveport charter before they head back home and there’s more than enough business to cover with them that’ll require a sharp brain.
I stand under the cold water for ten minutes before I switch it to hot and scrub up, rinsing the whiskey and beer outta my skin where the shit is leaking outta my fucking pores. I shave the scuff off of my face and throw on the last of my clean clothes. I should probably let one of the biker bitches clean up around here but the last time I let one of them into my room I’d come back to my desk being fucked around with and with the rat situation I can’t afford to have people messing around with my shit.
If any of them knows a thing about security cameras and surveillance equipment we’ll be in trouble, I need them to stay unaware of just how much of this shit I’m leaving around everywhere.
When I get out into the clubhouse, I find Rue looking like shit warmed up at the bar and when I park my ass on the barstool next to his he grunts at me.
“Church in ten. King wants us to go over some shit before we meet with Luis and his crew. They’re leaving today, thank fuck.”
I smirk at him and grab the bottle of beer he’s nursing, finishing it in one go. “If you’re feeling that fucking wrung out you should probably quit drinking, old man.”
He scoffs back. “You’re older than me, asshole, and you were a fucking pussy. Pacing yourself like a good little bitch.”
I shake my head at him, jerking my head at Monroe so she’ll bring us more beer. “I’m not trying to forget how fucking pussy whipped I am so I don’t need to drink as much as your sorry ass. Maybe you should take up yoga or something. Find your zen.”
The glare he sends me as he tips the fresh beer back would strip paint. “Fucking yoga. College ruined you, asshole, are you sure you wanna slum it here with us dirty bikers?”
I chuckle as I shake my head at his grumbling and clap him on the back as King walks out of the chapel and catches our attention, jerking his head at us to follow him.
Just us.
So not regular church then, fuck.
I leave the beer behind because if this is a family meeting and not a Coldstone one then shit has gone south again and I’ll need a clear head for it. Rue sighs and sets his down as well and I’m sure his head is fucking pounding without the hair of the dog.
“Shut the door behind you,” King says from the head of the table and Hawk is already sitting besi
de him with a cigar hanging out of his frowning mouth. Hellion is perched on his chair like he’s uneasy sitting there, papers spread out around him that he’s poring over like they hold all the secrets of the underworld.
Fuck.
“What happened?”
Hawk huffs and scratches at his beard. “Shipment is gone. Third one from the last set that we sent out the day King got home. There’s a pattern going on.”
Fuck.
Rue steps up to park his ass next to Hellion and starts scouring over the pages with him, cursing over what’s there. I sit next to Hawk and keep my eyes on King.
I want to know what he’s thinking about this shit more than I need to know the details right now. I need to know what sort of a Prez we’re serving under so I can plan out my own recon accordingly.
Vic’s death has told me a little, but not everything.
King’s eyes are intense as he slowly takes each of us in. The twitch in Hawk’s fingers as he flicks the ash from his cigar, Hellion’s piercing scrutiny on each and every document on the table, the frown on Rue’s face as he joins the dots together, and me.
The stiffness of my shoulders as I sit there and wait for his instructions. The death already etched into my face and the stillness of my body as I wait. I’m ready to shed blood for my club and to bleed for my family. Whatever the cost, I’ll pay it.
Rue starts fucking losing his shit and slides a page over to me, rubbing a hand over his face like he wants to scrub it off. Hellion grunts and leans back in his chair too, looking over at his brother-in-arms and blood as he waits for his decision on this shit too.
King says nothing, waits for me to see the evidence put forward.
I look over the note Rue’s passed over, the times and details, and it takes me a half second to see that there’s a pattern to where the information is coming from.
Church.
More specifically, the chapel itself because that meeting only had the senior-most members of the council, and the meeting with the route only had my blood which means someone has bugged the fucking place. I don’t know how they got that shit past us but it’s fucking serious shit.
I meet King’s eyes and he nods at me like we’ve come to an agreement. We have.
I’ll fucking find this surveillance.
“We gonna go ahead with the meeting? Even with the chance we’re being watched?” Rue says slowly, like he’s thinking real fucking hard about his word choices.
I keep my eyes on King and he nods. “We go ahead with the meeting and keep our eyes open. Keep our shit under wraps until we can sort out the shipments. We can reconvene later, make a plan once Tomi’s had a chance to go through the place.”
Hellion grunts and sweeps the entire chapel with his eyes like he’s got laser vision and will see whatever bugs have been planted. “Keep shit on topic with Luis, make sure none of our boys let anything slip. I’ll let Luis know too.”
I nod at him. We coulda really gone to town on these assholes if the other charter wasn’t here. Could’ve made up some stories to throw them off and catch them out, but we’d have to throw Luis and his boys under the bus for that shit and that just isn’t King’s style.
Integrity and brute fucking force to the end.
Rue and I have a little more planning and smarts but that’s for later, for when we step up and make this shit our own. Not for now. Now we’re here to shut our mouths and follow orders, learn everything we can from our fathers, and then rule this place when our time has come.
If we make it, that is.
When church finally lets out I’m ready for a fucking drink before I have to go deal with the bullshit down at the bar. Rue has a mountain of jobs lined up at the garage and looks about as happy as a kick in the balls about it. He’d spent the last week trying to avoid both biker bitches from both charters and Diego, Luis’s son and a royal fucking pain in both our asses.
We’d managed to keep Poe the hell away from the clubhouse but now she’s fucking pissed as hell and ready for blood.
All I have to say about that shit is thank fuck I don’t have a woman because Rue always looks fucking miserable and that’s not the life I want.
I want to drink my way through every bar, fuck my way through every stripper I ever meet that catches my eye, and then wake the hell up and do it again tomorrow.
Fuck being ‘struck.
I grab a beer at the bar and ignore the bitching Axe and Speck are doing over the hot stripper again.
“You sure she’s not just playing hard to get? Fuck, I think I’ll go fucking bankrupt if I keep going down there. Never seen a woman do that shit with her legs before.”
Speck shakes his head and he looks serious as all get out for once in his life. “She’s dead serious and she’s making enough green that it’s in the club’s best interest to let her do her thing.”
I park my ass down with Axe and give Speck a look. “Since when do you speak for the club’s interests, prospect?”
I shouldn’t rag on him like this.
Not when Rue’s bitch fit at King is still ringing in my ears, clear as a fucking bell, about what it means to be a Callaghan in the Unseen. But it sounds like he’s fucking smitten with this girl and that spells out fucking trouble. Not even patched in yet and already getting into fights over a piece of ass?
Jesus fucking Christ.
The doors to the chapel open again and King walks through with Luis and they both clap each other on the shoulder as they part ways. There’s a lot of respect there, even if they’re not that close anymore thanks to King’s time in lock-up. I finish off my beer but before I can flag Speck down for another Luis meets my eye across the room and motions at me to follow him into the parking lot.
I do it without question.
I’ve known this man for fucking years, long before he took over the Shreveport charter and began cleaning it the hell up but from the second he took over he’s kept me in the loop.
I took a bullet for him a few years back in an arms deal with the cartel gone wrong and that’s something his pride can’t ever forget. I was twenty-one and a prospect, a prince of my club and un-fucking-touchable, and still, I dove in front of him to get him the hell outta the way of that shot. Barely skimmed me but it woulda been nighty-night for him if it had’ve hit true.
He takes his phone out of his pocket, stuffs it in his pack on his bike, and starts the engine. I frown at him and do the same with mine, only I balance it on his seat.
Then we walk into the trees, close enough that I can keep an eye on the door and who might come looking for us but far enough away that our voices won’t get overheard or recorded.
Unless he’s wearing a wire.
Even after years of mutual respect, I don’t completely trust anyone but my blood.
“Shit’s getting busy around here. More eyes on us all.”
I shrug at him. “That’s the life. If you thought King’s release would make shit better around here you haven’t been paying attention.”
He huffs out a laugh at me. “You sure you’re not gonna push to be Prez someday soon? You’re too smart to be a VP to a grease monkey.”
Someday there’s gonna be a reckoning because they all have Rue wrong, every last one of them has decided I’m the brains of this next generation.
Rue didn’t go to college because that woulda meant leaving Poe.
We talked about it. We planned that shit out together and made an agreement on how the hell we’d be moving forward long before either of us ever prospected and patched in. There’s never been a question in my mind about Rue’s presidency.
If they’re second guessing his smarts for this shit then… good. Better to be underestimated, for everyone else to underestimate us. It makes them sloppy and it’ll only help weed out the rats.
At my silence, Luis huffs and says, “There’s something you should know.”
I sigh and nod. “I was guessing this wasn’t a fucking circle jerk.”
He scoffs as he lights up
a cigarette and offers me one. I have enough vices in my life so I wave him off and keep my eyes on the doors.
“The last shipment that came through. I usually don’t get a look at ‘em, I leave it to the boys and let them earn their cuts but shit went down and I decided to ride along.”
That gets my attention.
The shipments go from us to various drop off points around the country. Luis and his boys take care of Louisiana and we move a lotta goods that way. The last shipment had been overseen by Hellion, Rue, Vic, and I. It was stored in the warehouse for two days before we moved it along, everything had gone smoothly.
“What about it? Something missing?”
He takes a long drag and then pegs me with a look. “Nah. Something extra was in the container. Six dead bodies.”
I turn to face him completely, forgetting the fucking door. “What the hell do you mean, dead bodies? Demons? Or Unseen? I think I’d have noticed if six of our boys were missing.”
He drops the butt of his cigarette and lights up another, keen to just fucking chain-smoke this conversation through to the end. “Neither. They were kids. Six little girls, all dead and huddled together like they were being fucking smuggled.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Someone is pulling extra cash by smuggling little girls across the borders and we’re the ones doing the dirty work. Smells like the fucking rats to me.”
I spin away from him ready to stalk my ass up those stairs and start fucking swinging until I find the asshole doing it.
Smuggling fucking kids.
That’s never been our style, not something we’d ever get into, and the thought of some fucking gutless turncoat rat making cash off of some guy raping a kid that’s been moved by me and my fucking family? Nope. Not today and not on my fucking dime.
“You can’t just go in there and start shooting. We need to know who the fuck is doing it. We need to start mixing shit up around here, changing our paths and timetables. Only way to figure this out. You gotta lock it down tight. You think this ain’t killing me? I’ve got kids around the same age as the girls in that fucking box.”