Probably not, because she’s already in the hallway, slamming the door behind her.
Fuck this.
I need a drink.
I throw on some clothes and stick my piece in the side of my waistband. My hand lands on the door at the same time that Axe pushes it open.
“It’s meeting time. Los Diablos are ready for the sit-down.” Axe shoves his thumb in the direction of the stairs and eyes my hand on my gun. “You need to leave that here too. President’s orders.”
Axe leaves and I’m still standing in the same spot, blinking at an empty hallway. My fingers grip the piece. After I stick the gun in my safe and straighten my cut, I can’t focus knowing that Molly showed up and now I’m the one leaving. I want answers, but she’s not in the sharing mood. I make it downstairs and find the guys all waiting at the main entrance, serious and tense.
“The two of you need to kiss and make up,” Cole says. “This shit’s getting old.”
“All right,” Silas shouts and pushes through the front door. “That’s enough. We’ve got business to handle. I need everyone focused on this peace treaty talk. The last thing we need is another firefight, okay? And I hope we’re all unarmed.”
“You got it, boss man.” I’m angry all over again when I glance over at my empty parking spot. “I still can’t get over this. Why’d we let that Jett fucker live? Fucking piece of shit destroyed my ride.”
“We’re working on a new one, buddy.”
“Unless you want the money to go toward a kickass baby shower.”
Axe laughs and squeezes my shoulder, but quickly takes a step back. I’m not in the mood for jokes about my ride or the kid Molly may or may not still be carrying.
“No one mentions my kid.”
There. A nice, threatening blanket statement for everyone within earshot. That should do it.
Axe shrugs and shakes his head. “Si, you sure you want this motherfucker in the Los Diablos meeting? I don’t know if we’ll even make it through the front door.”
“He’ll be fine.”
I walk off and hop up into the truck with Cole.
He shoots me a sympathetic smile. “Let’s ride, brother.”
Chapter 25
Tate
Great, this pat-down is a little less sexual, but no less involved as a Los Diablos feels me up from ankle to ass to shoulder. I cuss and whine when the guy shoves a hand near my ribs a little too hard. I don’t move although it’d be my pleasure to clock the guy in the jaw. Which just shows my willpower. Now, if only I can get my head in the game. I trail behind the rest of my brothers and sit at the opposite end of a long, gnarled wooden table.
“How’s this meeting going to go down? Are we supposed to smoke a joint and make peace?” I sit back in my chair and light up a cig, arching a brow.
“You’ll have to excuse this cranky fucker over here,” Silas addresses Antonio Vasquez, the Los Diablos’ MC president, yanking out a cigarette of his own, and playing with it between his teeth. He gives me a glare to warn me that I’d best be keeping my mouth shut. It’s not my place to talk at these meetings. “We don’t want any trouble. I think we all know that, right?”
“That’s all fucking well and good, boss,” Vasquez replies. “You already know we didn’t attack your MC for the heck of it. We had a backer who paid handsomely for the work done. It wasn’t personal, and we won’t take your visit to our compound personally either. You get my drift?”
He cocks his head and casually rubs his light brown beard. It’s not easy to keep quiet after hearing the attack on the Satan’s Saints headquarters was just about money to him.
“You think it’s that simple?” Silas barks.
I’m ready to speak up as I blow smoke out through my nostrils. I hate this diplomatic bullshit. But Silas gave an order. I keep my mouth shut.
“You fuckers think you’re slick,” Silas continues.
Vasquez leans forward and folds his hands. Silas isn’t afraid of him. Neither am I. No one can intimidate me right now, not with this Molly situation hanging over my head. I’ll fight if and when Silas gives the order.