Everything would soon fall into place. If only she could admit how perfect they were all together.
“My, my, don’t you look like the cat that ate the canary.”
He turned around. “Mornin’, Bo.”
“Wow, you must be in a good mood.” The older Lycan quirked a white brow at him. “Does it have something to do with the chickee you got in your cabin?”
“Word travels fast around here,” Ransom remarked. “Silke?”
“Yeah, she and Sabrina met Hawk on the way to the lodge and told him all about your girl. But you know gossip spreads like wildfire because of the men. So”—he rubbed his thumb and forefinger on his jaw—“anything you care to tell me, son?” As chaplain of the Savage Wolves MC and their most senior member, Bo’s job was to counsel all the members and see to their mental health.
“No,” he denied.
“Hmm … it makes sense now,” Bo began, “why you’ve been actin’ the way you’ve been actin’ the past year or so. Ever since Cross brought you back.”
Not wanting to go where Bo was leading him, he quickly countered. “Is everyone at the clubhouse?”
“On their way, but a couple of us went ahead and got it all cleaned up,” Bo replied, unruffled by the change of subject. “Was mighty surprised you wanted to use it again. You know if you need to talk—”
“I know where to find you.”
He jogged a little faster, toward the Savage Wolves MC clubhouse, with Bo keeping up. Though the Seven Peaks Lodge and Cabins took up most of Silke’s property, a portion was put aside for the use of the MC. All the members had their own cabins, plus acres and acres for their wolves to roam around in the Kentucky mountains. The clubhouse itself was set way back in a wooded area for maximum privacy and protection. However, ever since Pops died and Ransom became president, he’d been holding meetings in his cabin instead. But with Isabelle and Evan there, he knew it just wasn’t going to be possible anymore.
He and Bo walked a few more minutes through a wooded path until they reached the clearing. The clubhouse itself was similar in construction to the other cabins, but it was single story with a larger footprint. Inside was a lounge area with big comfy sectionals, a bar, pool table, card table, plus two spare rooms in case members of other MCs they were allied with needed a place to crash.
And of course, there was the boardroom, where they had official meetings and where big issues were decided on. This was the first official meeting he’d called here as president since Pops died six months ago. The old man had been sick with some mysterious illness for a couple of weeks before he died. While Lycans could easily heal from wounds, for some reason they were still susceptible to some illnesses. The doctor had told them it might have been some form of internal cancer that quickly progressed.
As they entered the meeting room, Ransom’s gaze fixed on the beat-up leather chair at the head of the table and he halted. It was an intimidating sight, and he never thought he’d be the one sitting there so soon. Pops was made for that chair—a natural born leader of their ragtag group.
Along with Bo, he had established the Savage Wolves MC a few years ago as a safe place where Lone Wolves could band together. The two of them had been part of another MC when they were younger and had long since retired, but when Ransom was growing up and had a few problems—not to mention, run-ins with the law—they decided it was time to introduce him to MC life to instill some discipline in him, and perhaps, a way to fulfill his wolf’s need for a pack. Logan and Hardy had actually been in the same prison as him, where they had formed their little pack because they were the only Lycans in there. Once he got out, he tracked them down and recruited them to be part of Savage Wolves. Most of the other members of the MC just didn’t fit into clan life or society in general for some reason or another, but even though they were forced to go through life alone, they all knew the truth: they were stronger together as a pack. However, unlike formal clans, they didn’t have to answer to anyone as long as they didn’t reveal their secret to humans, and they each still had a measure of independence.
Ransom would never know what his life would have been like if Pops didn’t start the MC, but based on the trajectory it had been going on from the moment he was fifteen, he could have guessed. The old man had saved his life twice. He had big shoes to fill, and while he’d tried his best the last couple of months, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d been coming up short.
“Go on,” Bo urged from behind him. “He would have wanted you to have this. To sit in that chair.”
He could feel the presence of all his wolves behind him, so he took a step forward. It got easier and easier as he drew closer until finally, he did sit down. The worn suspension on joints made the chair squeak, but he settled into the weathered leather upholstery with ease.
There was a somber note in the air as all six members filed in. Perhaps, much like him, they were all feeling the loss of Pops again. He was beloved by every single one of them, and once again, Ransom felt like he wasn’t filling up those big shoes as he was supposed to.
“We all here?” Glancing around, everyone was here, even Logan, whom some of them didn’t see for days, sometimes even weeks. The
