Aidan braced a hand on top of the car. “How’d you know Kev was MIA?”
His expression was insulted. But he obliged. “One of my informants turned up dead. Ellison thought to kill him, but not to swipe the memory stick from his pocket. He photographed Kev’s capture.” His lashes flickered at the end, a tremor of fear registering in the sharp angles of his jaw. This was not merely a case of a kingpin throwing his weight around. He was distraught.
Aidan leaned closer. “Listen, Ellison wants more than just his coke back; he wants to humiliate us. He’s asking for five-hundred-grand and we don’t have it.”
Ian nodded, stared at the seat back in front of him, still breathing hard. “Done. I can go straight to the bank.” His gaze slid to Aidan, tightening. “Though I can think of much better things to buy with my money than a motorcycle club.”
A chill rippled across his skin. “You wanna leave Kev with Ellison?”
“Do you?” Ian challenged. “Because if I do this, you understand that I will own you, yes? No more owing, no more favors. The Tennessee chapter of the Lean Dogs will belong to me.”
“You’re really gonna use this to your own goddamn advantage?”
Ian made an impatient sound. “The thing you need to understand about the truly successful, Aidan – they never miss an opportunity. Never,” he said, vehemently. “Do you want the money or not?”
There was no choice to be made here. The club wasn’t a club without a brotherhood, and he was going to take care of his brother, by God.
“Yeah. Go get it.”
~*~
The sunrise filled the condensation on the window with round pearls of light, like the glass was on fire. Aidan stared mindlessly at it and lit a fresh cigarette, let it smolder between his fingers as he took another swallow of coffee. The others had never returned to the common room; asleep, he guessed.
“Yeah. I understand,” Ghost said quietly into his cellphone, and then hung up with a beep.
Through the bright glaze of moisture on the window, Aidan saw the black Jag return. “Dad,” he said, turning on his bar stool so he faced his father.
Ghost’s face was weary and lined. “What?”
“Something you tell me over and over again. That I need to get my priorities straight.”
“Yeah? You do.”
“So do you. A half a mil’s about to walk through the door, and I think you ought to take it.”
Ghost frowned. “What?”
This time when Ian entered, it was with his usual poise and grace. He had a bit of a Dracula thing going on with his black coat and harsh-featured white face.
“I’m not in the mood for more of your shit, princess,” Ghost said. “Get out of my clubhouse.”
Silent, Ian accepted a slim black briefcase from Bruce and set it on the desk. “Call Ellison.” He had control of his emotions this time. “Tell him you have the money.”
Ghost looked at the case but didn’t move to touch it. He shot a betrayed glance toward Aidan before fixing his gaze on the Englishman. “Yeah? And then what? Tell him you’re my puppet master?”
“If I’m not mistaken,” Ian said, “you need five-hundred-thousand dollars. There it is. We can work out the particulars of my ownership later.”
Ghost smiled, the expression almost deranged. “Take your goddamn money and get out of my sight.”
“Dad,” Aidan said, “this is our only option, and you know it. Take the money.”
“Yeah? Take the money?” He rounded on Aidan with a snarl. “And hand over this club tohim? You’re so fucking stupid sometimes I can’t even believe you’re mine.”
“How can you keep us aclubif you let us all get tortured to death one by one?” Aidan shot back.
Ian cleared his throat. “Will you be accepting the money?”
“No,” Ghost said.
