Page 14 of Porter (Dirty Misfits MC 2)
But this whole business of Chops not being around didn’t sit right with me.
“Where the fuck is he anyway?” I asked.
Archer paused. “Chops?”
I nodded. “Yeah. He should’ve been the first one on the scene with something like this.”
Finn held out his hand. “That’s what I was saying earlier! See?”
Cole walked up to us. “I just got off the phone with the President of the Black Flags.”
Archer furrowed his brow tightly. “Since when do you take phone calls?”
Cole snickered. “Since the clubhouse phone rang. Did you guys not hear it?”
We all looked around and fell silent before Cole continued. “Yeah, the President wants to set the meeting for tomorrow morning. Early. Like, before sunrise kind of early.”
I licked my lips. “You think this is a trap?”
Tanner shrugged. “It might be. You know, get us all in one place before surrounding us?”
Brooks hovered behind me. “Or tossing a grenade into the middle of us.”
Cole nodded slowly. “It might be revenge for what we did to their men at the wharf.”
I rubbed my hand across my face. “Do we have any other choice, though? They know enough about us to know the number for the clubhouse. How the fuck did they get that shit in the first place?”
Just as I asked the question, the front door of the clubhouse burst open and the smell of Chops’ cheap aftershave followed him inside. He stepped with heavy footfalls that caused all of us to turn around, and we watched as he slid his sunglasses off his face.
The man looked like he played a part in some sort of movie.
And it only put me further on edge.
“How nice of you to finally show up,” Brooks said.
Chops glared at him. “Nice to see you, too.”
I puffed out my cheeks with a sigh. “So, you got any input as to what’s going on?”
Brooks held up his hand. “Actually, where the hell have you been?”
Chops blinked. “I’m not following.”
Brooks walked over to the man. “Where the hell have you been? When something like this goes down, the President is always the first to know about it. And yet, you’re the last one here. Why? What was more important than a potential morning time meeting with the President of our enemy club?”
Chops grinned. “None of your fucking business.”
The hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end. As the two men faced off, standing toe-to-toe with one another, I slowly gazed around the room. Archer crossed his arms over his chest, putting up a physical barrier between him and Chops. Finn took a couple of steps back, seeking solace within the shadows. Tanner followed him in stride, almost connected at the hip. And when all of them looked in my general direction, there was something in their eyes I’d never seen before.
Fear.
These men were now afraid of Chops.
And that wouldn’t roll over well with anyone involved in this crooked mess of fuckery.
Eight
Astrid
I drew in a deep breath as the boys closed the front door on their way out. Of course Brooks was leaving again. I was nothing but an afterthought to my own brother, and it had been that way my entire fucking life. Tears brewed behind my eyes, but I blinked them back as quickly as they formed. He didn’t deserve my tears. He hadn’t deserved them before, and he certainly didn’t deserve them now.
Guess whoever he fucks takes priority over blood.
As I looked around the bedroom, I sighed. This has been my parent’s bedroom. While I was excited to have the space all the myself, the memories of crawling into bed with them when I was a young child bombarded my mind. I gazed over at the bedframe with the musty mattress still on top of it and swallowed hard. I had spent so many fearful, stormy nights curled up in between them when I was a child.
Back when things weren’t so fucked all the time.
“I really am trying, Mom,” I whispered.
When she passed on, I made her a promise. I promised her that Brooks and I would stay close, no matter what. And most days, it felt like I was the only one working to keep that promise fulfilled. I stood in my childhood home only weeks after my only brother got out of prison, and I was somehow standing alone.
I hate my life sometimes.
But what did I really have back here? I came back for Brooks, and if this was how I was going to be treated, then it did me no good to stay here. I had terrible memories of this place. Horrible nights of crying myself to sleep and staying up, perched at the windowsill to see if Dad would ever come back. Memories of birthdays without cards or friends. Memories of watching Brooks leave time and time again, only to come back days later without a care in the world.
