“Yeah. That was pretty stupid. I should’ve tried to get Cormac to talk to them first. Apparently, the Knights were going to get out of the heroin business anyway, which was Cormac’s whole issue.”
“At least no one died,” I tell him. “I’ll keep praying for the injured biker to get better. If he doesn’t live…”
“Then Cormac may have to take more than one bullet?” Rian finishes.
“Yeah. He could,” I admit to him.
“Then I’ll pray for the biker too,” he says with a small smile.
“Good.”
Getting to my feet, I walk around the small space to stretch my legs before sitting back down on the edge of the bed. “So, you said it was Wirth who worked out the deal with Cormac?”
“I think that’s his name – big guy with broad shoulders and dark hair who answered your door and put the zip ties on me?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“His friends said he’s got a huge set of balls to go into the pub alone,” Rian adds.
“Hmm,” I mutter. “He’s a good man.”
“They also mentioned he did it for a woman…”
“Oh yeah?” I try not to sound pleased by that and fail.
“Do you actually like him, or were you just playing him for information too?” Rian asks.
“I think I really liked him. He was better to me than I deserved,” I say, thinking about Hunt’s rage and how I could see in his eyes that he wanted to physically hurt me, possibly kill me for betraying the MC.
Wirth would never do that, though. I shouldn’t have been so quick to think he had fooled me into thinking he was a good guy only to betray me.
My trust issues with men, thanks in large part to my father, know no bounds. And for that, I’m certain I owe Wirth an apology, especially after he figured out a way to keep my brother safe.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wirth
When we arrive at the pier, the only car in the lot is the black Jeep I remember from the Irish bar. We don’t see anyone immediately, so we walk around the pier shop, which is locked up tight, and cut through the dock to the pier. We spot the ginger and two of his fair-haired buddies standing way down at the end. It takes us several minutes to walk all the way out to them. On the way, I watch Malcolm screw a silencer onto the 9 mm he has in a shoulder harness under his cut.
Malcolm waves everyone back as we get within earshot of the Irish, only keeping me close to him. Cormac looks between the two of us, giving me a nod before his gaze settles on Malcolm. “You’re the president of the Dirty Aces,” he states rather than asks.
Malcolm points at his patches and nods. “That’s me. Wirth says you’ve already agreed to terms, but I want to hear you repeat them. Let’s make sure we’re all on the same page here.”
“We had bad blood with the Knight’s old president,” Cormac sighs. “Especially our former boss. They hated each other with a rare passion. Times have changed, and we need to change with them. Your man, Wirth, says that the Knights have patched over and are getting out of the heroin business.”
“That’s true,” Malcolm agrees.
“Then we don’t have any grievance with each other. There have been some mistakes made, but if we can put those behind us…” Cormac begins.
“We have one outstanding grievance,” Malcolm corrects him.
With a sigh, Cormac replies, “But once that’s settled, we’ll be straight?”
“We’ll be straight,” Malcolm confirms as he holds out his hand for a shake.
Cormac accepts the handshake, then asks, “Where do we do this?”
“Right here will be fine,” Malcolm says.
“All right,” Cormac agrees with another heavy sigh. “Listen up boys. Part of the deal is that the Aces have to put a bullet in one of us. I volunteered.”
The two fair-haired men standing behind Cormac had been silent up until now, but they both step forward to move in front of him before Cormac can wave them off. “This has to happen,” he demands as he motions for them to step back. “This was ultimately my mistake, and I have to take responsibility for it. Once it’s done, deal with my wound, and then go collect Rian. He’ll be in charge now. You understand?”
The two men nod, both of them looking as if they are fighting back tears as Malcolm draws his pistol. He doesn’t give Cormac a chance for any final words or monologuing. He simply pulls the trigger once, causing Cormac to jerk backwards against the pier railing.
“FUCK!” Cormac grunts as his hand raises to his shoulder. He looks at Malcolm in surprise, and with a hint of terror in his eyes.
“We’re good.” Malcolm says as he slides the pistol back. “Have your boys take you over to the hospital to get that cleaned. Should be through and through, just like your guys shot me. Get yourself patched up; we’ll send Rian and his sister to you.”
“Thank you…” Cormac gasps as his men help him straighten up and begin walking him down the pier.
“Next time you get a wild hair up your ass, you call me first,” Malcolm threatens as Cormac is led away. “Don’t make us go through all this again!”
Cormac’s only reply is a pained grunt as he’s helped to the Jeep.
“Nash, call Dev or Silas and tell them to let everyone go,” Malcolm orders. “Tell them where Cormac will be so they can go check on him, or have the prospect drive them wherever they want to go.”
Nash raises an eyebrow as he comes over and pulls out his phone. “Even if they want to go to Wirth’s house?” he tries to joke.
“Wherever they want to go,” Malcolm confirms. “Whatever’s going on with you and that girl, Wirth, you need to sort it out. Don’t bring any more fucking trouble to our table over this woman, you understand?”
“She isn’t going to want to see me anymore,” I protest.
Malcolm and Nash both snort at me,
