“Where’s your brother?”
Dalton looked at Mac, giving him a signal to continue. “He’s with me. Something wrong?”
“You fucking tell me.”
Mac stopped rubbing my shoulders and walked over next to his brother. “We haven’t heard anything, Silas.Want to key us in?”
“That’s what I fucking get, letting a couple of boys run my club.”
Mac’s voice was deadly. “Myfather’sclub, actually.”
Dalton was gripping the phone so hard, I was surprised the thing wasn’t cracking.
“Your father is dead, boy. And you’re about to be, if you don’t get over to the clubhouse in the next twenty minutes. The DiAngelos are up in arms over that last shipment, saying they were missing some guns or some shit.”
“Be careful how you talk about our father. You’re only in fucking charge because Mac lets you be.”
I had never heard Dalton sound so angry.
Silas laughed on the other end of the phone. “You keep telling yourself that, son.”
Dalton opened his mouth, but Mac shook his head, stopping him.
“You’ve got twenty minutes. Both of you had better be here. And give that sweet little thing you’re probably with my love.”
With that, Silas hung up, and Dalton threw the phone against the wall. Mac’s eyes were almost black, and Dalton was pacing beside the table. I nibbled on a spoonful of peanut butter, watching them.
“Who the fuck does he think he is?”
“Easy, brother. He won’t be here forever.”
“He needs to go, Mac. He’s ruining the Saints. Dad would be ashamed.”
“I know.”
“You said it was short-term, Maverick. That this shit with the DiAngelos wouldn’t last.”
“Damnit, Dalton—I know.”
The two men stared at each other, and seemed to have forgotten I was even there.
“I hate to interrupt… but what’s going on? What’s crawled up his ass?”
“Shit, Vixen. You shouldn’t have had to hear all that.”
“But I did. So what’s up?”
Dalton dragged a hand down his face. “What do you know about the DiAngelos?”
Mac gave him a warning look, which he ignored.
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Not much,” I lied.
“Silas is in deep with them—God only knows why. That’s where he goes all the fucking time. He’s like their little pet or some shit. I kinda think they just keep him around for entertainment. Anyway, it works. ‘Cos when he’s gone, Mac and I can do what needs done. As long as we keep the DiAngelos supplied, we can do whatever we want.”
“Supplied with what?” I did my best to keep my voice light, my eyes fixed on Dalton. I wanted to know this as Nicky, if it meant being able to support them. But, as Katie, Ineededto know.
“Guns, drugs—black market shit. They get that, Silas stays over there, and everyone is happy. Silas only ever comes back when he feels like waving his dick in everyone’s face, or when something’s gone wrong. Like now.”
