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Chapter Fourteen

Henley

H anging my head in my hands, the headache pounding my temples doesn’t seem to be waning anytime soon. The light is too bright, there are far too many words on this paperwork, and my body is buzzing with the need for a ride. Tonight, we have a prospect meeting with several new potential candidates all eager and ready to show their loyalty. Scanning over the paperwork, the words all merge and jumble together.

“Fuck off,” I grumble as I swipe the small stack away from me. Standing roughly, I make my way down to the main area of the M.C. There are easily twenty people with prospect vests on and ready to make themselves part of the club, but they have no idea what is to come.

Hael clocks me from his peripheral, and I don’t have time to flee. “Blood Reapers called again,” he starts, stopping next to me and crossing his arms over his chest. “They are definitely going to need men. They are thinking around twenty from our force. I wanted to run it by you before I said yay or nay.”

Mulling it over, I try to remember the stupid contract the VP sent me. Unfortunately, it’s all shooting blanks.

“What were the specs again?” The unrelenting throbbing of my head seems to hammer harder. Rubbing my temple, I try to sooth it without tipping him off that I’m fucked.

He rattles off the agenda needed for our guys, everything we seek to gain from the transaction. Their Chapter is a lot more brutal than ours is. We aren’t pussies, that’s for fucking sure, but when I say they take it to the extreme, that’s exactly what I mean. They are called the Blood Reapers for a reason.

“Sounds good to me. Just give me names and shit so I can make a plan.”

“You alright, man? You seem…off.” Hael doesn’t look at me, but I know he is watching my body language from his peripheral. No one gives this fucker enough credit but he is damn perceptive.

“Yes,” I pause, “no. I don’t know.” Sighing, I walk over to the bar and plop on a stool. There’s no one behind the counter right now, though I could definitely use a stiff drink right about now. “When I was at the club the other night, I saw this chick. She ended up being my match.”

“That’s awesome, but your body is saying otherwise.” Shaking my head, I scan the room full of our men. Our family.

Thinking about this shit makes me feel like a dick. These men and women have put their lives on the line for us. We’re a family, and I’m over here crawling to a female who hasn’t bothered to return.

“She fled in the night, and when Ruel was able to locate her…” I trail off, not even sure what to think. He is damn good at his job for a reason but fuck if it doesn’t suck sometimes. “Remember the DuClaire potential?”

He nods once, waiting for me to continue. The words are stuck in my throat, lodged so far down there that I’m half tempted to have him start the heimlich to get them out.

“She is his daughter.”

Jaw on the floor, he stands quickly.

“No,” he shakes his head, hands running quickly through his hair. “No, no, no.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, sinking further into myself. “Compared to everything hitting the fan right now with the other chapter, and the weapons on our list going missing…”

“You’re not an invalid for thinking about her,” he snaps and stands, and I whip to look at him. There’s an expression I can’t quite place, one that has me questioning if he is okay. “There’s a lot going on, yeah, but you also have to think about yourself. This club is here for everyone, but we also have to be selfish sometimes.”

“Are you okay?” He doesn’t answer the question at first, just staring at me for a few solid seconds before scanning the room. He plops back into the chair.

“So, Blood Reaper needs those twenty men, Ruel and his team are currently tracking the potentially missing shipment. You’re good with everything on your side?” I narrow my eyes at him, unsure if I want to follow the sudden subject change.

“Everything on my end is handled.” With that confirmation, he leaps out of his chair and takes off out of the conversation. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I scroll back to the text threads from Mr. DuClaire, and it’s starting to appear more and more fishy.

I hover over the messages. While brief, there’s no context to his question. When he called Hael to ask about a project, it was a no-brainer for the club. There was big money in what he is willing to ship from the scope that Hael got from the job but my impression of him was a lot different, more dodgy.

“DuClaire,” the man barks over the line. Rolling my eyes, I debate on ending the call.

“DuClaire, this is Henley with Dirty Sinners MC,” I announce, purposefully deepening my voice.

“Henley! What a wonderful surprise. I assume you received my…invitation?” Are we fucking spies? I confirm. “Good, good. Well, I want to set something up with your club because we have a little issue on our end. We think it’s an internal engine part, yet we cannot figure it out. Would you be interested in taking a meeting with us to determine what this…issue is?”

Pulling the phone away from my ear, I raise an eyebrow. This man is going to lengths to keep his shit covered. Either he has ears on his shit, or I’m being pranked. My length of silence must have spurred him to continue.

“During our meeting, we usually have a lot of eyes on us because we want to do the right thing for this organization. You know, get all the right parts put together.” Yeah, definitely has ears on him.

I need to make sure Hael knows that he is being watched, or he is much more careful than I anticipated.

“Sounds like a plan, probably a leaky gasket or something,” I add, writing down a few notes. Another issue with working jobs outside of the club is the higher level of liability for when shit hits the fan. None of us want to be in those crosshairs.

“Excellent. I can’t wait to have you fix it. I have been dying to get it done.” Ending the call, a weird pitch in my stomach has me shuttering in discomfort. Nothing about that call was normal, and why the fuck would he choose mechanics? Just because we’re bikers doesn’t mean we all know shit about engines.

Nothing about this whole situation seems right. Thinking about the little bunny who was perfectly open with me has my cock hardening. Fuck, I don’t have time to get myself off right now, but when I blink, her beautiful eyes pop up behind my lids and I can’t help but take care of business.