Page 147 of Beast

“The club is strong,” the biker declares.

“You just had a goddamn coup and you’re telling me the club is strong? You don’t even have a goddamn president anymore. One is fish food and the other’s burnt to a crisp.”

“The damage is done to the Knights. Just like you planned. Using their logo on the bad dope has made people wary of buying their product. Turned the town against them.”

Boney thinks for a minute. Then says, “I suppose since you’re here, you’re the new leader?”

“I’m the acting president. I was vice president to Gunner?—”

“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck about your resume. What I want is for you to listen to me and listen to me good. I want you to dismantle operations.”

“That will take at least a week.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck. Just do it.”

“But what about the Knights?”

“Like you said, the damage is already done.”

“But enough to get them run out of town?”

Boney chuckles. And it’s cold and smug. “I don’t need to run them out of town. Because I have a new opportunity to explore.”

I assume I’m the new opportunity.

“Which is?” The biker sounds confused.

“You don’t need to know. You just need to do what I told you to do. Dismantle operations.” Boney moves away from the bar. “Now get the fuck out of my house.”

Breathing a sigh of relief when they both leave the room, I take a moment to calm my racing heart.

That was close. If Boney had looked down, he would’ve seen me.

I run my hands down my face.

I must be crazy doing this.

Now that they’ve gone, and with the proof I need to bring down the mayor, I decide to escape through the patio doors. I crawl out from under the bar, my legs cramped and shaky as I make my way over to them. But when I try them, they’re locked.

Fuck.

I’m trapped.

I’m going to have to go out the front door.

That means sneaking out of here and across the foyer to the front door, while praying no one sees me.

Quickly shoving my phone back into my jeans, I carefully open the door and step into the hallway, careful to close the door just as quietly. But the moment I turn around, I walk straight into Millie the maid.

Double fuck.

“There you are,” she says, an accusatory edge to her voice. “I went looking for you in your room. What are you doing?”

I do my best to hide my panic and force a smile. “This house is so big. I thought that was the dining room.”

Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “That’s Mr. Boney’s private den. No one is allowed in there. Not even staff.”

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t,” I joke.

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