“I’m pretty sure you made it clear you’re onto them,” he says, gesturing toward my hand. Knuckles still dripping, I have no regrets about disfiguring the fucking bastard charged with doing Andre and Matteo’s bidding.
We’ve always known Matteo and Andre were killers for hire—psychopaths who take pleasure in their work—which we utilized for our benefit until recently.
“I’ll switch cars and follow them back to the Florida state line,” Tyler offers, “and put some birds on patrol to make sure they all get the fuck out of our neighborhood.”
“That’s all fine and good, man, but you’re not hearing me. They took out another black-market contract yesterday—nondiscriminatory. They’ve switched to killing innocents for a higher paycheck. They’ve broken every rule of our club and are rubbing it in our faces with their presence tonight, with an added plan to weaken us.”
“How so?”
“I think they tried to take Sean out in the race.”
His eyes widen. “The. Fuck?” He tilts his head up as if summoning patience. “Before we act, Dom, you need to be sure.”
Clearing some of the haze, I replay it objectively. Sean’s car rounding the curve in the outside lane, one side mountain rock, thousands of feet of drop on the other. Florida’s headlights disappearing from my rearview to run alongside me before gunning straight for Sean. When I realized his intent, I gassed my Camaro just in time to cut him off, forcing him toward Tallahassee, who crashed into the rocky cliff just after we cleared the turn.
“Positive. He knew the road and had to have mapped it before the Meetup. There’s no other fucking way to interpret how it went down. If Miami had so much as tapped either of Sean’s bumpers, our brother would not be breathing right now. They need to be dealt with—swiftly.”
Tyler’s expression hardens as he glances around to ensure no nearby ears are privy to our convo. “Make the call to France and text me the verdict.”
I shake my head. “You can’t go at this alone. We don’t know the nature of the game they’re playing.”
“Don’t underestimate me,” Tyler snaps, warning lethal.
“I never have, brother. I’ll text you his decision but keep me updated.”
Eyes murderous, Tyler takes off in full executioner mode, and I know if granted permission, he’ll see it through—and make it painful.
Clearing the trees, I stalk toward my Camaro and am stopped by a brunette at my trunk, her nails raking up my chest. Annoyed, it takes a few seconds for me to recognize her.
“Hey, Dom,” Stephanie purrs, reeking of whisky and cigarettes. “Been awhile, and I’ve got a secret . . . I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” she drawls.
“Funny, I’ve been thinking about everything but you.”
“Don’t be a dick,” she pouts before hitting her knees and reaching for my belt. “This time, I’ll let you come in my mouth.”
“Jesus Christ, Stephanie,” I bat her hands away before lifting her by the underarms to stand. “This isn’t a good time.”
“You didn’t mind it last time,” she slurs.
“That was what? Two, three fucking years ago?”
“I just wanted to play around a little and reminisce,” she stumbles in front of me, and I grip her elbow to study her.
“I think it’s time we both forget you have no lips and move the fuck on. Go find another babysitter to suck off. I don’t have time for this shit.” Using my grip on her elbow, I gently guide her out of my path.
She jerks her arm away, stumbling in the process, “Fuck you, Dom.”
“Not if I had a spare dick, Stephanie. Now would be a good time to remember who you’re talking to and tread more carefully,” I warn. “If I were you, I would get back to the bird you came with. This doesn’t look good on him.”
Just as I say it, her name is clipped out a few yards away. Her head snaps in that direction as I take a seat behind my wheel and pull my burner from my glove box to shoot off a text.
ROGUE BIRDS: This can’t wait.
My burner rings a second later as Stephanie is not so gently carted off by her bird, and I catch sight of Sean pulling off with Cecelia in tow as Tobias speaks up. “Talk to me.”
“Miami is full-on defecting,” I get straight to it. “They’re taking black market contracts on innocents, Andre turned his back on me at the party, and they just tried to take Sean out.”
“What the fuck?” The instant change in his tone lets me know I have his undivided attention. “How?”
“During a race. They were going to make it look like an accident. I don’t even think Sean knows how close he came to dying tonight. I stopped them right before they got him. It was close, brother,” I rasp out, a knot lodging in my throat. “Too fucking close.”
“It’s a mob move.”
“Exactly my line of thought.” What transpired tonight aligns with the mob mentality of taking out the lieutenant because it would be too obvious if they went after me first.
“Tell me everything,” he clips out, the noise in his background silenced by the closing of a door.
I relay it all and end with my proposed solution. “Tyler wants permission for turn down service.”
“Denied.”
“They tried to take out Sean!” I roar, my patience tapped out. “This can’t go unpunished.”
A few tense seconds tick by before he speaks up. “You do know that Miami has actual fucking mob ties?”
“I know who the fuck they are, but they need a reminder of who we are.”
“Where are you now?” He clips out.
“Still at the Meetup. Tyler’s going to follow them to the state line. We’re putting birds on patrol to make sure they don’t overstay their welcome, but something needs to be done, brother. We can’t let this go.”
“I’ll put them on permanent watch for now until I can have a face-to-face with Andre.”
“The time for peace talks is over.”
“This isn’t your fucking call,” he snaps. “If we take the bait, we become baited. I’ll handle it.”
“How do you propose to do that a continent away, Frenchman?”
Silence. I’m pissing him off. Good.
“I can’t believe you’re willing to let this go.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. But we don’t shoot first and ask questions later. They know the ins and outs of our fucking club, Dom, which makes this a delicate situation. Before we move, we need to at least try to come to some sort of understanding.”
“Fine. Whatever,” I turn my key, and Tobias hears me start up my car.
“Where are you going?”
Blue lights race by just as I start to pull out, and I instantly kill my headlights before pulling between the trees.
“Dom?”
“Blue lights. Someone non-club must have reported the race. Hold up.”
Just as I go to compose a text, I scan some missed messages.
R: Blue lights on Kanuga Road.
P: Already following. Sean’s leading him away.
P: He’s losing them.
My shoulders sag in relief. “They’re on Sean and—” I catch myself in time not to blurt her name.