Page 214 of Cobra
“Already have alerts running.”
“Good.”
The conversation keeps moving. Guard rotations. Women staying on-site a little longer. Kids protected but not scared. Prospects doubled at the gate. Basement schedule. Denton. Matteo. RICO. Eli’s funeral. Everything stacked. Multiple wars at once. That’s club life. Only now it feels different.
Before Olivia, war was just where I lived. Now it is something standing between me and a future I never planned to want. That changes the shape of everything. Not softer. Never softer. More precise. I used to survive because dying would be inconvenient to the men I trusted. Now I survive because Olivia sleeps upstairs in my bed, and I intend to keep waking up beside her.
Logan looks my way again. “How is she?”
The room doesn’t move, but I feel every man listen.
Protective tension rises in me instantly. Private. Untouchable. “She’s sleeping.” That’s all they get.
Mac probably knows more. Emma too, maybe. The women will do what they do, gathering around Olivia in ways we can’t and shouldn’t try to control. But this room gets two words.
She’s sleeping.
Carter nods once, accepting the boundary.
Cain’s face softens only slightly. “Good.”
Blaze clears his throat. “And you?” I look at him. He shrugs. “Figured I’d ask before you stare me into an early grave.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Hammer says.
“Didn’t ask you.”
“You don’t have to. You look like shit.”
Joker smiles at me. “A little worse than usual, which is impressive.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I mutter.
“There he is,” Blaze says, almost relieved. “Thought we lost the vibe.”
Landon shifts and winces.
Joker immediately looks at him. “Need help lifting your coffee, Treasurer?”
“Keep talking,” Landon says, voice tight, “and I’ll use the good arm to shove this mug up your ass.”
Blaze points at him. “That’s the spirit.”
Logan tries to stand too fast, his knee buckles slightly, and he catches himself on the edge of the table.Every man sees it. Every man pretends not to for exactly one second.
Then Cain says, “You good, Prez?”
Logan glares. “Fine.”
Hammer snorts. “You’re limping like an old dog.”
“Want to say that again?” Logan snaps.
“Not particularly.”
“Smart.”
