Page 87 of Steele

A muscle ticked in Blade’s jaw. “What’s he moving?”

The room grew heavy with silence. Hellers had history with heroin, same as the Crawlers. We all feared the dragon finding its way back into the club. “He says it’s blow, but I’m not sure if I believe him. Actually, I don’t know what to believe. I don’t think he’s lying to me, but he’s not telling me the whole truth.”

My thoughts and emotions were a mess. I told Blade and the board about the cash and the drugs. Each word out of my mouth left a lead weight on my chest and nausea in my gut. I told them about his frustration with the club. I didn’t mention anyone in particular.

“If he was dealing out of the club, the security cameras would’ve picked it up,” Jazzy said.

“We’ve had a few new hang-arounds but no one through Kodiak.” Rogue rested his hand on Dozer’s shoulder. “You got anything to add? Has your old man said anything?”

Tank had no love for Kodiak. Nothing he said would be good.

“Not about the MC, but a couple weeks ago, he bitched about Kodiak fucking up on the job.”

“That might be why he’s not working for the Brunos,” I said. “He said he walked off the job.”

“That’s probably why Cruz is pissed. He’s been keeping his distance from Kodiak, claims we can’t trust him.” Dozer gazed at me. “He said you can’t trust a Crawler.”

I stared back hard. “You can’t. That’s why there’s a fucking Heller patch on the back of my cut. Same patch on Kodiak’s. Same as Vega’s. If anyone had a problem with us, they shouldn’t have been a yes vote.”

Bullet lurched to his feet. “We’re not questioning Steele’s loyalty.”

“I am.” Blade spoke low and menacing. “We’re talking about my club. My watch. We went through too much, lost too many brothers, to let that shit back into our house.”

“This is about Kodiak. Not Steele,” Jazzy argued. “Don’t throw the messenger under the bus.”

Tension thickened in the room. Rogue leaned back in his chair. “If Cruz has a problem with Kodiak, I have a problem with Kodiak. I know who I can trust.”

Torch glanced at everyone in the room, then his gaze settled on me. “A Heller patch on the back of Kodiak’s cut doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have Crawler blood in his veins.”

I clasped my hands between my knees. After the last couple of weeks, I couldn’t argue with them. But that didn’t mean I was happy about it. I trusted there wasn’t Crawler blood running through his veins, but he wasn’t loyal to the Hellers.

Dozer leaned forward and spoke to me. “Blue and Kiss keep their distance, too. But that’s because of shit that went down with her and the Crawlers. Kiss lives with those memories.”

Blade turned to Jazzy. “If he’s moving H through my club, he’s not walking out with a slap on the shoulder and a fuck off handshake. We send a message.” He turned to me. “You saw the drugs?” he asked me.

I nodded.

He spoke to Romeo. “Until we know the depth of his betrayal of the patch, take his room and take his keys.” He glanced to the open ceiling of the pit and raked his fingers through his hair. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his Adam’s apple bobbed on a hard swallow. Finally, he turned to Dozer. “He can keep his cut but take his patch.”

Silence permeated the room. The president of the club was the only one who could strip a patch’s colors. Kodiak could go back to being a prospect, but he’d be humiliated.

A dark twist of regret coiled in my gut, not because I’d come to the board. But because I knew Kodiak. And he’d rather go out bad than look like a pussy.

***

Not even a ride on my bike could calm the anxiety slipping through my veins. Apart from my best friend potentially losing his club, I needed to be at the courthouse soon to find out if I was going to lose my kid.

After I grabbed a shower, I dressed in a pair of black dockers and a blue shirt. I shaved and had a quick cup of coffee in the chapel before heading downtown. I parked my bike about a block from the courthouse and stored my cut in my saddlebag.

I thought about Lili. She wouldn’t be here for the hearing. Right now, she’d be in class with Jaymi.

Four weeks. A fucking month—technically, four and a half weeks—since I’d seen my kid. I walked down the marble hallway. Regina smiled as I approached.

“You’re going to do fine,” she said and directed me into the courtroom. Natalie and her attorney sat on the right side of the room. Regina indicated the table on the left for us.

I could feel Natalie’s eyes on me, but I remembered Regina’s advice. I kept my expression neutral. Strange that I could look at a woman I’d once had love for, a woman I’d wanted to co-parent with, and now, I felt nothing but loathing.

I fucking hated her. Bullet talked about owning his mistakes. I owned mine. But I wasn’t a deadbeat dad, I wasn’t a danger to my kid, and I wasn’t dangerous to Natalie. I didn’t want to be in the same room as her.