Page 75 of Word to the Wise
“Have you been here?” he asks as we reach the steps.
“Once. But I was a kid, so I don’t really remember it.”
Similar to the LA compound, there’s a neighborhood on the edge of the land where some of the families live, and that’s where my dad left me when he went to deal with club business.
“I’ve never been inside the clubhouse,” I tell him.
It’s double the size of the one in LA, which is fitting, given this is the chapter that started it all. And it’s situated in the center of a huge chunk of desert just outside of Las Vegas.
The moment we reach the top step, the door swings open, and we’re met by Jameson Steel, with his sergeant at arms at his side.
Steel is my brother’s age but not nearly as approachable as Sage. His square jaw is clenched as his light-gray eyes scan us. He’s wearing dark jeans, a simple white T-shirt, and his black leather cut. Everything about him embodies thepresidentpatch stitched to it.
When I was a teenager, I had the biggest crush on Steel, and I wasn’t the only one. He has that effect on women, given he’s young for an MC president, attractive, and doesn’t take shit from anybody.
But now, he reminds me of a life I’ve tried my best to separate from. A life fitting my brother and Lyla that I want no part of.
Steel represents danger—violence. Everything I’ve been running from.
Unlike the man beside me.
“Mason Zane.” Steel pauses, looking him over. “You’re lucky you don’t associate with your father, or I’d be inclined to throw you a different kind of welcome party.”
“Wouldn’t blame you.” Mason reaches out his hand, and Steel takes it. “Sorry he’s been causing your guys trouble.”
“We’ll deal with Zane… eventually.” Steel rakes his hands through his dark, sun-streaked hair. “But it sounds like you need a go at him first.”
“He and I need to have a chat.”
“Understood. Well, Ghost keeps tabs, so he’ll let you know where your dad’s at.” Steel nods, looking from Mason to me. “All grown up now, huh, Reed?”
“Ten years will do that to a person.”
“That it will. Come on in and have a drink.” He looks over at his sergeant at arms. “Let Ghost know they’re here.”
He nods, disappearing down a separate hall as Steel leads us into the clubhouse. A few guys are milling around. Some are playing darts while a couple of others are playing pool.
“It’s quiet in here,” Mason says, glancing around the room.
“Yeah…” Steel clicks his tongue. “We had a bit of a situation last night. Don’t need any outsiders here while we deal with it.”
The one thing I appreciate about bikers is they don’t elaborate if you aren’t a member of the club. The last thing I want to know is why everyone in the room seems on edge. Or why Steel pauses when his gaze trails out the back window to a separate building that sits in the distance, like the horse stalls on the compound in LA.
Steel leads us to the bar, and Mason guides me to the stool closest to the wall, sitting on my other side to cage me in. The same way he always moves to stand on the roadside of the sidewalk. Little ways he looks out for me.
“Sage said you’re after Carter Connors.”
“Yeah.” Mason nods. “You know him?”
“Not well, but when he does come to town, he tends to make noise.”
“How often is that?” I lean forward.
Carter traveled frequently for business, but he never mentioned coming to Las Vegas.
“Often enough to be on my radar. Couple of times a year at least.”
My stomach drops because it’s just one more thing Carter wasn’t telling me. There’s so little I knew about the man I was sharing my life with.
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