“I know that, sweetie.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and hoped she understood how much so.
She nodded, expression telling him he was forgiven.
~*~
The long, ornately carved dining table in the chapel was at full capacity, Walsh’s English-import half-brother Shane taking Troy’s usual seat. The guy was quiet, like Walsh, but not unpleasant. He didn’t feel like one of his brothers yet, but Aidan thought he’d slid nicely into place without putting ripples across the surface of their gatherings. A guy who knew his role.
Ghost probably loved him, then.
The moment the squeaking of chairs had quieted, Ghost began.
“Gannon & Gannon are building in Knoxville.”
A wave of energy through the room, quick curses and amazed glances. An air of disappointment, as if most of the shock was an act, because none were surprised that an enemy had returned.
“G&G means Ellison, which you all know,” Ghost continued, looking old, worn, and beleaguered. Hewasn’told, Aidan reminded himself. The man gave the impression of being in his prime most of the time – and he was, really – but he was fifty-two and right now, he looked haggard. Worn hard by the biker life. “Which confirms the theory that Ellison killed our dealers. He wants to take over our business, and he isn’t going to do it through negotiation. My guess – the dealers were just the start. If he encounters any resistance from this point on, he’s going to hit us and hit us hard. Shaman was right: we’re involved in a war, gentlemen. Whether we like it or not.”
“If he could find the names and addresses of our dealers,” Walsh said, “then he can find our addresses. Our families.” He stressed the last with raised brows and a deeply disturbed rendition of his normal expression, smoke curling ominously from the end of his cigarette. “Look at what happened to Em. He’s not above using our soft spots against us.”
“Yeah, but our soft spots aren’t as soft as he thinks,” Mercy said with a grim smile. “Our girls are smart. And they know their way around a gun.”
“Yeah,” Ghost said, voice tight, “but what’s Ava gonna do when she’s home alone with the boys and five of Ellison’s thugs show up? Can she hold that many off?”
Mercy scowled at the man a long, tense moment.
“I know you don’t want to think about it,” Ghost said, “but we have to. I don’t want another long, drawn-out war like we had with the Carpathians.” He twitched a humorless grin. “I don’t have another giant Cajun to call in to watch my family.”
“So what?” Rottie asked. “If we hit hard enough to knock them back, we’ll all end up in cuffs.”
Or deadwas the implied addition.
Aidan’s stomach cramped. Greg, he needed to tell them about Greg. That guy was involved in all of this somehow. Did he seem the type to have killed Mitch and Marcello with a machete? No. Not at all. But he’d been selling Fisher’s drugs. He’d…
He closed his eyes tight against an oncoming headache. His body felt raw and full of needles. He had to figure out what was going on with Greg. Alone. Or with Tango’s help, at least, before he brought it up with Dad. Greg wouldn’t do much damage by himself, and all their dealers were dead, so what was the harm at this point?
He flicked a glance across the table and saw that his best friend was watching him, a frown marring his unnaturally pretty face. Not accusatory, but wondering, waiting for him to fess up.
Not yet, he thought, and looked away.
“I’m working on something,” Ghost said, “and I’m bringing in reinforcements. But long story short, everyone affiliated with us needs to bevery careful.”
~*~
Her ears were ringing. As Sam paced slowly down the aisles of Leroy’s Gas ‘n’ Grocery, Aidan’s face danced against the backs of her eyes: his serious, almost haunted expression; the warm chocolate color of his eyes. Try, he’d said. He wanted totry. Try what, exactly? Shed their clothes in great desperate yanks and fall into bed, see if they fit together physically? Or was he talking evening strolls, dinner dates, and hand-holding?
She scoffed inwardly at the idea. Aidan had no idea how to go about a real relationship.
Didn’t mean he was averse to trying, though.
She paused in front of the olive oil display and massaged her temples. She had to clear her mind. Obsessing had never done her any good, and she couldn’t afford to go there now. Besides, she was picking up a few things for dinner. Assuming Erin would actually come out of her room and eat with them…
“Sam?” A voice said beside her, and she jumped, startled.
A man stood at her elbow, slight and unremarkable, with nondescript brown hair and a face that looked younger than it probably was.
As the shock faded, something tickled at the back of her mind. A brush of recognition.
