Page 6

Chapter

Five

Smoke

I glance around the table. All my brothers are here. Even the prospects that usually aren’t included in these types of council meetings, still on this occasion, I feel every one of my brothers need to be involved. I wonder if they are truly on board with what I’ve suggested or if they think that their Prez has lost his goddamn mind.

I can’t say I blame them because if truth be known, I’m far from convinced myself. This is not only unprecedented within the MC world, but it could backfire on me big time and leave me with egg on my face, and more importantly, have me losing all respect in the eyes of my brothers.

I’m about to bring an outsider into our inner sanctum. Church, our secure, closed meeting room. The place where we talk club business around the solid oak table engraved with the Young Outlaws emblem. Talk that is only for the ears of the council, people who are privy to our darkness. And not only that. A woman I have no fucking idea if she can be trusted.

Yet the feeling I have deep in my gut is telling me this is something we shouldn’t dismiss easily, so I need my brothers to hear it from that pretty yet brazen mouth of hers so they can each make their mind up for themselves. Hopefully, then, we can all come to an agreement on what we do with the information she has and decide what we do and how we use it.

“Edge, go get her and bring her in here.” He jumps onto his feet and goes through the door to track her down. Tenley should be exactly where I left her. At the bar with a not so pleasant warning of what I’d do to her if she tried to run. Ginger is savvy enough to keep an eye on her until I summon her or have her removed from the grounds. It goes without saying. Ginger is about the only sweetbutt I trust and has been nothing but loyal to the club over the years.

In the minutes that we wait, I’m hit with the reality of the huge risk I’m about to take, of what I’m about to do, but I’m not a fucking total crazy. It’s not like I’m walking her in here without any prior warning. If I had, shit would have gone down, tempers would have soared, which quite possibly would’ve ended up in a chaotic fight between my brothers with not just fists flying but possible bullets too. Never before has a woman crossed the line and faced the club in this way.

“Hurricane, pull one of those chairs from the back to the end of the table so she’s directly opposite me. ”

“Sure thing, Prez.” He nods my way before doing as I ask.

I purposely want her sitting where I can watch her facial expressions and body language that accompany her spoken words. From what I can make out when I spoke to her in my office, she’s telling the truth. Either that, or she’s a formidable actress. If the latter, I’m banking on her inability to keep up the act or that she will slip up on a lie on the second time of questioning.

The door swings open, and in comes the blonde bombshell. With his large hand around her forearm, Edge leads her to the only empty seat that’s not his, waits until she sits and then takes up his usual place on my right next to my Mayhem.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Tenley shuffles forward on the chair, putting her elbows onto the tabletop. With her hands clasped together, fingers interlinked, she drops her chin to rest on top of them. She scans both sides of the table with her pretty eyes before they land firmly on me.

“Who the fuck said you could talk?” I rasp sternly, a voice deeper than the Devil’s Hole in Death Valley.

“Really?” she scoffs. “Come on.”

This fucking woman is getting on my very last nerve already, and we haven’t even started yet.

“Shut the fuck up.” I growl back at her, a heavy sneer distorting my mouth. “In here, you speak when you’re spoken to.”

The atmosphere instantly shifts in the room and becomes charged with animosity. I can feel Stone’s eyes on me, and I’m sure if I tilt my head to look his way, his expression will show how shocked he is.

I’m not one to lose my shit. Not in this way. I don’t find that I need to raise my voice or show facial emotions to get across how pissed I am at someone. My tone of voice, my stance, my oppressive presence is enough to show I mean business. Facial expressions, never.

But this woman is bringing out what I have hidden for years. Since I lost the one thing that could pull every emotion from my very soul to the forefront for everyone to see.

What kind of witchery does this irritating woman hold?

I stare her out; waiting, daring her to say another word.

She doesn’t. Still the curl of her lips, devilishness in her eyes and slight tilt of her head as she taunts me, makes me realize this woman is a force to be reckoned with.

Time is a ticking. I want this done.

“Tell me again, from the beginning, only this time, don’t skip anything. I want the whole story from the start, to where you thought it was a good idea to trespass on Young Outlaw property.”

Tenley

After I let my subtle grin bloom into a full on, teeth-flashing, dazzling smile at Smoke only winds him up even further, something that I’m taking great pleasure in, I scope the room one more time.

I know who every single one of these guys are, and what led them to the Young Outlaws, whether it be through blood or deficient back story. Each one of them has their own past demons. Some, I don’t doubt, still riding on their backs.

The druggy, the killer, the wrongly accused. The beaten, the crazy, the violent. Every single one a victim in one way or another.

Fiercely loyal and protective of the club and its family. With an unbreakable devotion to their president, Smoke.

I should fear them, and I do, but I’m determined not to let it show.

So, I straighten up, lift my chin and paint on a smile. Time to put on my sassy, no fucks given, exterior and hope it doesn’t give away that my insides are quaking like a summer storm and my heart is galloping like a thoroughbred stallion.

I’m not stupid. I’ve done many hours of research on the subject of the MC to know they could easily make me disappear in a blink of an eye, leaving no evidence of me ever being here. My only hope is that, despite only being here a short time, they respect Oriana as my half-sister enough to think twice about it. Rumor has it that they also don’t target women, at least not unless they are troublesome.

Damn! Trouble is my middle name.

It was the research on the club that led me to Paddy Dunne and the Death Valley Irish .

So, I reside myself to the fact I’m going to be grilled for the next hour or so, and be interrupted multiple times with the idiotic and irrelevant questions from a bunch of dumbass bikers.

Guess it’s time to start at the beginning and what led me to here in this crazy situation, albeit partly being my own doing.