The rejection seemed to cleave me open, forcing me away from the wall. I pushed his chest and seethed.
“Just like you wouldn’t be able to stop touching me if you started?”
He fell back a step, his eyes were ablaze, but I didn’t let him get a word in.
“Why pretend you care who touches me, Ford?”
A muscle in his jaw feathered. “You’re my responsibility. Killian has everyone watching over you. No one gets to touch you, Royce, not when your father is The Wolf of Rose Ridge. Not when he has the kind of enemies that would love to use you as bait.”
“So that’s it? This was all about my dad?”
His throat bobbed, but he hesitated.
“Was this all about my dad, and the club, Ford?!” I repeated on a yell.
His mouth parted right as Rodney ran in, cutting off our conversation.
“Royce, what the hell happened? An ambulance just arrived out front, and the police are on their way.” His shrewd gaze cut over to Ford. “No drama…right.” He scoffed before exiting through the same door he’d come in.
I flicked a quick look at Ford, daring him to stop me before turning around and returning to the only dream that ever mattered. Ford was telling me exactly how he felt about me. I just needed to believe him.
ELEVEN
FORD
We hadno real idea who had destroyed our outposts.
We thought we did, but after everyone brought forth their discoveries, we realized there were too many gaps and things that didn’t add up. Johnson had a map on the table in front of us, pointing with his finger. “Tire tracks led west, which would mean?—”
“Fucking Death Raiders.” Rev cut in, which warranted a few murmurs and curses around the room.
I glanced up at Killian to catch his expression, but his brows were folded in, like he was trying to piece it together. I knew this wasn’t Lance, or his club, the Death Raiders. While the leader refused to ally with us due to the bad blood with Killian, he was willing to work with me. We’d already set up a meeting where I gave him two cases of unregistered weapons as a sign of good faith.
“I’ll reach out to Lance and ask if they have anyone who saw which clubs were out near his club, or in Pyle.” I sat forward, pulling my cell free.
My eyes snagged on the screen.
No new messages.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but Royce not texting or calling wasn’t really it.
Although that wasn’t entirely true. She usually reacted when I got under her skin, and after last night, I knew she was pissed at me again. I assumed I’d have at least a middle finger emoji or something from her. The bass player I nearly killed didn’t want to press charges. Perhaps he was warned off by discovering that I was part of a club, or it was because Royce would make her own report. Either way, he would not be a problem.
“I say we attack ’em—send a message.” Kody, one of the men at my table suggested. Killian and my dad both watched him, likely waiting to explain to all of us why it wouldn’t be a good idea to start a war with another club without solid proof, but he just stared at the map.
It was Jameson who made a sound of exasperation. I couldn’t believe they were becoming the old-timers, and that I was stuck with these other idiots.
“No need to start unnecessary shit,” I replied cooly.
Kody’s blue eyes snapped up. “But it’s obvious it’s them.”
Johnson flicked a brow up, aimed at Kody. “Just tire tracks, nothing concrete.”
I added, “I’ll reach out to Lance myself, but no one moves on their own. That’s final.”
Kody’s jaw tensed, but he gave me a nod. Killian didn’t reply or offer his own thoughts, which on one hand was nice that he wasn’t trying to undercut my authority. On the other hand, his agreement could have gone far with the men. He knew what it was like to step into this role after someone else had held it. Having the support of the previous president meant a smoother transition, which left me wondering if he had done it on purpose.
“I’ll reach out once we have news from them.” I finalized the meeting with a slam of my hand on the table. The men dispersed and began moving around the cellar. Killian headed toward the stairs, and I followed him to the top of the club.