“You’ve definitely given me something to ponder.”
“That’s my job. Now you better see your prospect off. Give him a good pep talk. From you, not how Zero would do it.”
I thought I needed to do this job like Zero would. I never gave much thought about the fact I could do it my own way. I stand taller, feeling more capable somehow.
“Let’s go.” Stepping away from the church table, I stride toward the chapel door with a purpose in my step. Fox follows closely behind. We go in search of Neon and Blake, and I find them by the bar getting suited up. Blake’s cut is off—the less conspicuous the better. Neon attaches a button-size camera to one of the buttons on his shirt.
“This will relay back to us everything you see. Don’t get too close or give yourself away. If you’re caught, we will come get you. But for fuck’s sake… don’t get caught,” Neon instructs.
I narrow my eyes on Blake. “You good?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” He bobs his head a little too fucking enthusiastically.
“‘Cause if you fuck it up, and they figure out who you are or where you’re from, you know it could start a war?”
No sugarcoating—that’s not what I’m about.
Blake stands taller. “I won’t get caught, pres.”
“Good, because if you do, after we rescue your ass, I’ll add another six months to your prospect patch.”
Yeah, I’m not Zero.
Blake sturdies his shoulders. “I hear you. I got this. I’m ready.”
“You better be. Is he good to go?”
Neon presses a couple of buttons on his device. “Yeah, all good.”
“Then get on your bike and bring us the intel we need, Blake. We’re counting on you.”
He gives me a two-fingered salute, then takes off out of the clubroom to his bike.
“Starting to show your authority.” Neon chuckles. “Nice move, pres.”
I side-eye him as I turn sending a whistle through the room. “Brothers, in the chapel, we have work to do.”
Everyone moves quickly as Prinie’s figure catches my attention on the staircase. She’s stunning, wearing black leggings, a loose-fitting tank top where the arm holes drop down to her mid torso, and a sports bra. She’s obviously going to work out with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail, she’s fucking gorgeous. I dip my chin at her as I pass. She scoffs, turning up her nose and walking in the opposite direction. Her stubbornness makes my cock ache for her even more.
Yeah, she’s got me more than falling, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Neon slaps my shoulder as he passes. “You coming, pres? Blake just rode out.”
My eyes land on Prinie’s ass as she saunters off, swaying her hips to and fro like she knows I’m watching. She makes her way outside.
Neon follows my line of sight. “Dude, you need to either go after that and Old Lady her, or stop ogling her the way you just did before Zero gets back because if he saw the look on your face just now…”
Turning to Neon, I scowl. “Shut the fuck up. We have work to do.”
He grins as we walk toward the chapel.
Upon entering, our other brothers are already taking their seats. Neon walks to his position, then opens his laptop getting everything ready.
“How long till Blake intercepts?” I ask.
Neon checks something on-screen as he pushes the laptop back from him. “Y’all should come around to see it up close. He’s on his way… following the tracker location now. At his current riding speed, if he’s not picked up by the heat, he should be there in five.”
I stand along with my brothers, and we all move around to view the footage of Blake riding like a bat out of hell.
“Can he hear us?” I ask.
“No, it’s just visual,” Neon relays.
“Good, ‘cause the kid rides like a fucking maniac,” I jest.
My brothers all laugh as he weaves in and out of traffic like a lunatic.
“Dickhead will get himself some road rash if he’s not careful.” Kevlar chuckles.
“You can be too trigger happy to impress the club when you’re a prospect. Let’s just hope he doesn’t fuck this shit up.”
We sit back as he rides closer to the location. He parks, then starts a stealthy walk. Clever. I was starting to question whether he had the sense to do that or not after watching his ride.
“He’s coming up on the trackers now,” Neon exclaims.
We all watch Blake’s footage intensely as he approaches. Neon flicks something on his laptop, and audio comes through. The rustling of Blake’s clothes makes up most of the sound, along with his heavy breathing. He needs to rein that shit in if he wants to be more covert.
Blake rounds a shipping container, sliding up against the side of a warehouse. The side door is open, and he steps over to it. Anxiety ripples through me as I don’t know who might be inside, but what I do know, is seeing who it is could possibly change the face of the Houston alliances for good.
Far-off voices echo, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. Blake slows his breathing as I hold mine. He slowly peers around the entry to the warehouse where the voices are coming from.
I count seven men, all unpacking boxes. My skin prickles, they’re wearing camo greens. Standing back directing the men is none other than the captain himself, Hawke
