Relieved that the tension had broken between them, Isaac leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I know. We need to take care of each other.”
“We need to trust each other, love. That’s what we need.” She pushed away and opened her bag. “Now, though, I want to change so we can talk to your guys.” She had an idea for a way to deal with Ellis, and he was calling in the officers so she could explain it to them.
She pulled her clothes out of the duffel and stripped off her workout clothes. As she changed back into street clothes, so did he. So much for sparring being foreplay. He’d screwed that one up royally. He’d have to make it up to her later.
CHAPTER TWO
Lilli was still hurt and angry, but she set it aside. There was a growing pile of stuff she was setting aside, though, and it wouldn’t keep forever. She and Isaac had some things they needed to work out. What was happening between them was new for both of them, and their love and desire for one another wasn’t sufficient to help them figure out how to make it work. Not without talking.
She knew he was worried. What had happened with Hobson was bad. Because she’d almost died, yes. But more than that, because she’d been made weak. It had rocked her and given her a fierce determination never to be weak again. It had rocked Isaac, too, though, and he was just as determined to protect her. These were not compatible goals, at least not the way they were approaching them now.
Lilli was finding it difficult, too, to live with someone else, a partner. She’d never done it before. It had been a decade since she’d been in a serious relationship. Hell, it had been a decade since she’d had anything resembling a real home, and that one had been her father’s. It didn’t help matters any that she’d moved in with Isaac right after she’d left the hospital. It had set up a paradigm where he took care of things, including her. On top of that, she’d moved into his family home, in which generations of his family had lived and raised their children. She wouldn’t think of asking him to live elsewhere, but it was his house, through and through—the walls, the floor, the furniture steeped in decades and decades of his family history. She hadn’t yet figured out how to make it her place as well.
Isaac wanted to share it with her; she knew that. He wasn’t possessive about it at all; that wasn’t the problem. He would do anything to help her settle. He’d given her a room of her own, his childhood bedroom, which served as her office and private space. She loved it, and she was decorating it to her taste as she figured that out, but it was still his old bedroom, even though he had no nostalgic connection to it and always knocked and waited to be welcomed in.
He wanted marriage and kids, too, and soon. He wore his need for a family like an emblem on his chest. Lilli had never even considered having kids. She wasn’t actively opposed, but she had no idea how to be a mother. Her own mentally unstable mother, who’d killed herself when Lilli was ten, was no model. She knew better how to be a father. For that she’d had a wonderful model.
Isaac wasn’t pushing, not really. Despite his clear desire for a settled family life, he was obviously trying very hard not to push. He loved her and knew that she needed time to adjust. There were too many changes going on in her life, and she hadn’t gotten her feet steady yet.
Sometimes Lilli felt like he almost made it worse by trying so hard. She had nothing to fight against but her own discomfort.
Until now. Isaac had finally said what he was really thinking, unvarnished. He thought she was weak. He thought she couldn’t take care of herself.
That, she could fight against.
Now, though, she needed to focus on a different fight, so she set her hurt and anger aside and let Isaac lead her into the Horde meeting room, which they called the Keep. She’d never been in that inner sanctum before. She hadn’t spent much time in the clubhouse yet, though that was changing. Before, when she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stay in town, she was reluctant to move too deeply into Isaac’s life. Now, she knew she could stay, so she was getting to know his brothers. On the whole, she really liked them. They were her kind of people, the kind who lived lives so close to the edge that they had no time for petty bullshit. They were loud, violent, raunchy, and uncouth as fuck. They were also honest and, in their outlaw way, honorable. In Lilli’s opinion, most had a lot more honor than the average law-abiding citizen, because they were so often face-to-face with real consequences.
Isaac’s officers were already sitting around the big table when he led her in. Showdown, his Vice President; Len, his Sergeant at Arms; Bart, Intelligence Officer; and Dan, Secretary. They all stood when she came in, and Show wheeled a chair around between his seat and Isaac’s, so she could sit next to her man. Honor and chivalry; sometimes it was best found under leather kuttes and unruly beards.
Lilli sat and put her hands on the burnished ebony table. She knew Isaac had made it. He was a brilliant woodworker, making everything from furniture to art to wee tchotchkes with his own hands. This piece—huge and heavy, of gorgeous wood, with an intricate braid making a rim near the center—was masterful. She was proud, and she turned to him. He was watching her, his own pride clear in his green eyes. She smiled but said nothing. She didn’t need to.
He cleared his throat. “Okay. We need to talk about Ellis. We need to work a better strategy than the eight of us, three Prospects, and a handful of townspeople standing across Main Street waiting for Ellis and the Northsiders to run us down. We’ve got guns, but not enough. We have an offer for some men from The Scorpions, but not enough, and they’ll bring heat from law with them, because they are much bigger players than we are. I know it’s unusual to bring an old lady in on a meeting like this, but you know Lilli has special skills. She knows people with other special skills, and she has an idea that might work. Might at least give us some room. Because right now, we’re bowling pins, waiting to be knocked down.”
He put his hand on Lilli’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She knew it was for support and encouragement, meant with love, but it irritated her nonetheless. They needed to talk—tonight, when they got back home. If she didn’t clear the air, she wasn’t going to be able to deal. The conversation they’d started in his office wasn’t finished. It needed to be.
“Lilli’s going to explain her perspective on what’s going on and how she thinks she can help. Then we’ll decide if we should take her idea to the club.” He turned to her and gave her shoulder another squeeze. “Go ahead, Sport.”
With an effort not to seem like she was shrugging him off, Lilli leaned forward and got clear of his hand. “Okay. Isaac is right that you don’t have enough man or fire power to take this guy head on. The forays he’s made—starting with Mac Evans and real estate, harassing Will Keller, now kids and women getting followed home from school and town by unfamiliar SUVs—all of it shows a guy with lots of patience. Which means he has the resources to be patient. Isaac says that he’s a heavy duty dealer, an empire guy. You don’t fight a guy like that face to face.”
Show, Len, and Bart, who’d already had some serious conversations with Lilli, sat quietly and waited for her to continue, but Dan sat forward. “Hold on. Lilli, I mean no disrespect. I know you were in the Army, in the war, and I know you have that experience. Shit, I just saw you hand Isaac his ass in the ring. So I don’t mean to offend when I say what the fuck do you know about running meth? Or fighting dealers? This is turf shit, plain and simple.” He turned to Isaac. “Boss, I know you got yourself a fine woman, but I do not understand why she’s sitting at this table. This table is no place for a woman. It’s just wrong.” He sat back, arms crossed. His stance was defiant and strong, but Lilli could see, like a shadow behind his eyes, that he knew he’d just spit over a line. She turned her gaze to Isaac and saw his fists clenched, his knuckles whitening. His temper was going to kill the discussion. His eyes burning, he opened his mouth. But before he could speak, Lilli put her hand on his rigid fist. He closed his mouth and looked down at her hand, momentarily distracted.
She started to speak up and
respond to Dan herself, but now she felt a big hand on her other arm—Show was holding her back. She almost shook him off, but then she recognized that Dan wouldn’t hear her now. More important than her need to establish herself was their collective need to get Dan on board. He wouldn’t hear her, no matter what she said; he needed to hear from a brother. So she sat back and gave Show the floor.
He stood. He was big, almost as big as Isaac, and he towered over the table. His voice was deep, but he was surprisingly soft spoken. Lilli had never heard him shout. He was always measured, and when he spoke, the words came steadily, as if each one had been weighed and considered before it was uttered. “You’re right, Dan. This is the first time a woman has ever sat in one of these chairs. And I think you’re right that this is a turf war. But you’re dead wrong that what Lilli knows can’t help us. All war is turf, brother. In the desert, on Main Street, it’s all turf. And this is a new day. We’re not fighting another crew for our little acre. We’re fighting a guy with ties to people in Washington D-damn-C. He’s out of our reach. Lilli says she has a way to bring him down some, or at least get him distracted. We need to give her our ear. We’re not talking about putting a patch on her back, Dan. We’re only in this room because it’s convenient. It’s not a club meeting.” He sat down as if the matter were settled. Lilli looked at Dan, who did indeed seem somewhat mollified.
Isaac did not, however, and now he leaned forward. “Show’s right, and his head is cooler than mine, but I tell you this, Dan. When I bring someone in who could help us, I don’t fucking care who it is or where they sit, you keep your trap shut and fucking listen. You don’t like the way I run things, then fucking challenge me.” Tension in the room crackled like static as everyone reacted to that.
Now Dan stood. “Don’t threaten me, Isaac. I’m your brother. I got a right to say my bit. I was right there with you that day in the woods. It was my hand on her throat, keeping pressure so she wouldn’t bleed out. She’s sitting in Wyatt’s damn chair. I voted with everybody else to send him to his maker for the way he went against the club and sold her out to Ray. Wyatt and I patched in together, but I voted aye, and I knew it was the right thing. So don’t threaten me or make me out disloyal because I got a problem with a woman at our table.”
He was talking about her like she wasn’t there. It shook Lilli hard to hear again about how weak and helpless she’d been that day, completely at Hobson’s mercy. She remembered every second until Isaac killed Hobson and took Lilli in his arms. She’d passed out then and come to days later. That’s how these guys saw her—that limp, bloody body. It’s how they still saw her. She hated it with a force too big to fit in her head. She was not weak. She was not.
She realized that she’d put her hand over the scar on her neck, and she jerked it away.
And now Isaac was standing, looking fit for murder. This was getting out of hand. Lilli was over it; she wanted this done. She spoke up. “Fuck, guys. I’m sure everybody’s dick is equally enormous, okay? I promise I’m not staking a claim on the damn chair. I’ll say what I came to say and leave you to your circle jerk.”
Probably not the most prudent thing to say in a room full of angry, aggressive men, but she didn’t care. She cast a defiant glance around the table, though, and saw that Len, Bart, and Show were smiling—trying not to, but smiling. Dan still looked pissed. So did Isaac, but she stared him down until the corners of his mouth lifted a little. Then he made a “go ahead” gesture, a short wave of his hand, palm upturned. But he didn’t sit until after Dan did.
When she could see again through the haze of testosterone, she cleared her throat. “It’s simple, really—or, no, it’s not simple, but it doesn’t take much to explain. Bart’s the hero here. I can put him with a really top-shelf hacker, one with deep experience, and they can work together to get Ellis where he lives. Literally. Get intel on his closest associates, find the weak links among them. Players like this, the weak spots are always closest. You don’t get at the big bads from a distance. You get them walking their dog or getting a coffee. To get that close these days, you need a hacker.”
Dan laughed, contempt and anger blazing out of the sound. “We’re gonna use a computer to take down the guy who’s got men chasing our kids down in the street? That’s bullshit. Isaac, come on, man!”
Lilli answered. “No. You still need your guns. You’ll still get your bullets and bloodshed. But he’ll be weaker. You’ll know things about him and how he works that he couldn’t imagine anyone would know. And maybe you’ll have a chance to hold him off. Your only chance.”
She pushed back from the table and stood. “My friend is the best of the best, and he’s already keen to help. He won’t work for free, but he’ll work on a friend rate. What he mostly needs is an exit plan for his current situation—maybe a chance to prospect for a position as an Intelligence Officer with a friendly club. You want him to help, I can put him together with Bart.” Smiling at Bart, she added, “You’re good, bud, but this guy has hacked stuff you’ve had no need to bother with. The most elite systems. He can show you some magic tricks that’ll knock you back.” Bart grinned at that. He had a sweet, crooked smile.
Finally, she scanned the room. The faces were mostly friendly, but the tension was thick. “Okay, that’s what I’ve got. You boys can get back to measuring.” She looked down at Isaac. “I’m going to ask a Prospect to ride me back.”
She was still angry from before, and even angrier now after this stupid meeting, so she was gratified to see the surprise register in his eyes. All he said, though, was, “Not gonna wait?”
“Nope. Had about enough of this shit for today.” She walked around him, to the door.
As she pulled it open and headed through, Isaac called out, “The van, not a bike!”
She froze. He was seriously getting pissy at the idea of her riding on someone else’s bike. Right now, after all that. Being with a biker was not always what one might call an empowering experience for a woman. Certainly not on this day. “Whatever,” she called back, understanding even as she said it that she sounded like a petulant teenager. She felt like one, too. Also not especially empowering.
As the door closed, she heard him yell, “Lilli!” She ignored him.
When she found Erik, and he happily agreed to take her, she was sorely tempted to insist they go on his bike. But she knew she’d be getting him into real trouble, probably of the painful variety, so she rode back with him in the van. To Isaac’s home. Which was supposed to be her home, too.
She wondered if it ever would be.
~oOo~
When she got back, she did some work, finishing and submitting a decoding project from her secure satellite internet connection. The internet was a fairly rare commodity in Signal Bend, as was television. There was no cable, and most of the residents couldn’t afford a dish. The Horde had a powerful dish at the clubhouse. Tuck had one at No Place, the town bar. Isaac had one at the house. For most everybody else, television was a special event. In many ways, the town was trapped in a kind of time warp.
Lilli had come into town with a laptop and satellite phone for her highly classified government contract work as a translator and decryption specialist. She used her own connection when she worked. When she finished for the day, she shut everything down and locked it up in her new desk. She trusted Isaac completely, but what she worked with was sometimes so sensitive, translating messages in Arabic and Farsi that had been snagged and tagged as possible terrorist communiqués, that she kept to protocols as much as she could. She’d let Isaac know too much, simply by telling him what her work was.
She was still agitated and angry from the confrontations at the Horde clubhouse, so she went out to work on the yard. Isaac had neglected almost everything outside, doing no more than keeping the yard around the house mowed. Lilli wanted a garden. She wanted a lot of gardens—flowers and herbs and vegetables. It was autumn, so not the right season to do much, but she’d found catharsis in coming into the yard to clean out
the old beds and prepare new ones. Show’s wife, Holly, thinning her own beds, had given Lilli bulbs for gladiolas, daylilies, tulips, and irises—which Holly had called “flags”—and Lilli had been working on a big bed along the wide front porch.
Holly was the first—the only, really—woman in town Lilli thought might be something of a friend. They didn’t have a lot in common; Holly was a stay-at-home mom with three girls, and, since she’d married Show, she never went farther from Signal Bend than the occasional trip to Springfield. But she was kind and had a decent, dry sense of humor. She’d been a Horde old lady for something like fifteen years, and, though she was obviously not a fan of the club, she seemed happy to help Lilli understand the culture. A day like today was a clear reminder how much help Lilli needed in that regard.
She dug in the porch bed energetically this afternoon, setting in bulbs for spring blooming. Usually physical exertion kept Lilli centered, or got her there in those rare instances when she was losing her cool. Well, those instances had once been rare. Not so much anymore. She felt less level these days than she could remember feeling ever before. Even when her dad died, she’d maintained. She’d done what needed to be done and moved forward. Now, she felt edgy most of the time.
When there was nothing more she could do outside, she went in and washed up. She fed the kittens—one of Isaac’s mousers had dropped a litter several weeks ago, and they’d just been weaned. She had to feed them on the side porch, because they rarely wanted to be in the house for long, but she’d installed a pet door in the kitchen so they could come and go at will. She’d never had any kind of a pet before, and she loved those furry little mischief-makers. Everything they did was adorable. Isaac? Well, he was coming to terms with the idea of cats in his house. He wasn’t much of a pet guy, but he seemed to like her interest in the cats.
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