Page 33 of Stone

ChapterTwenty-One

Stone

Before I realize it, I’m outside the clubhouse and a good thing too, as last night Smoke had requested that all council was ready to meet at ten a.m. on the dot, and it’s five to now.

I take the steps up to the main door, swing it open, and step inside. All the guys are here, even the three new prospects that had only turned over the last couple of weeks. Of course, they won’t be in church or privy to our movements for quite some time. We need to vet them first, so until we had some modicum of assurance that they weren’t planted into our network by the Dunnes, they’d be kept busy with menial jobs like cleaning out the John and all the other shitty jobs that need doing around this place.

“Hey,” Edge greets me as I walk towards the bar and the aroma of strong, hot coffee. Ginger is here, coffeepot in hand, pouring it into big white mugs with the YOMC badge on the side. “How did Oriana like the car?”

“Seemed happy enough,” I respond. “Whose idea was it to get Cub to bring it?”

“Not mine,” he holds up his hands. “I was washing my hands after checking the oil and water, but when I came back, all I could see was the tail ass of it on its way up to you.”

“Little cunt,” I ground out. “Wolf needs to reel him in, otherwise I’m going to have to beat on him until he understands the chain of command, and how he needs to show respect to the members of the council.”

“He knows,” Smoke scoffs, joining in on the conversation. “He just likes to yank your chain, see how long it takes for you to lose your shit. Stop biting and he’ll probably get bored.”

“Maybe a kick in the bollocks will be enough to do the trick.” Trouble is, if I do that, I might diminish any chance of Wolf having any grandbabies to carry on the family name.

“Looks like everyone is here that needs to be, so we might as well take this into the back,” Smoke beckons over Mayhem, Diesel and the rest of the council with a crook of his index finger before turning and walking to the door that leads the eight of us into his office, and away from prying eyes and ears.

Oriana

The drive to the playgroup only takes around twenty-five minutes, and it’s held in a large one-story building with an outdoor play area at the back that is fenced in, making it nice and secure.

When we first enter the open plan room that has different areas of play, water, sand, paint etc. Sasha flings her arms around my leg and holds on tight. Bless her heart. Gabriel hasn’t been able to tell me much about Sasha’s previous interaction with other children, but I’m not totally convinced if her clinginess is due to not having this kind of experience before or whether it’s one of the few aftereffects of her loss.

Slowly I coax her further into the room, and it’s not long before she swaps from holding onto my leg, to holding my hand as she tugs me over to the mini easels and colorful paint pots.

Two masterpieces later, she moves onto the clay moulding table and is soon giggling with a boy called David who, after talking to his mum, I found that he’s older than Sasha at the grand age of four.

When playtime is up, and it’s time to leave, Sasha is a mess. Paint in her hair, on her face and her fingernails looked like she’d been digging for gold. We haven’t even had the chance to venture to the outside area.

Sasha isn’t the type to kick up a fuss, but she is close to it. Her bottom lip comes out, a stomp of the foot and arms on the verge of flailing around. But I assure her that we will be back again in a day or two and that her newfound friend David will be here, too. She soon calms down and lets me lead her outside to the car.

I’ve barely pulled out of the parking lot before Sasha is asleep. She looks so cute, all snuggled up beneath her comfort blanket that’s pulled up, partially covering her head. I turn off the radio. Not that it’s loud anyway, but I don’t want to disturb her. In the quiet, my thoughts turn to Gabriel.

The man confuses the hell out of me. One minute he’s all grumpy-ass boss and the next, he’s being quite sweet and, dare I say, caring. Then, out of the blue, last night happened.

Super awkward.

I’m not talking about him losing his shit and acting a total douchebag, thinking I was naked in the bath with Sasha. As if!

Although, the way he looked me up and down, I might as well have been.

The way his eyes slowly raked over my body from head to soapy toes, visually exploring every inch of me, had made my body tingle with sexual tension. Sure, I admit that my wet white two-piece hardly left anything for the imagination to work on, but I had no idea at the time and in my defence, the last thing that I expected was for Gabriel to come home early and burst into the bathroom, putting an end to mine and Sasha’s fun.

And oh, my word, didn’t he look so fucking sexy all growly and angry? His stellar protectiveness of his baby girl on full power. He might not have been her guardian for long, but hell, he was already giving off the sexy daddy vibe to the max.

What women don’t get turned on by the sight of a hot man holding a small child like it’s his everything? Wet panties or what?

The sultry male voice of the satellite navigation system tells me to turn right off the busy main road onto a much quieter side road. I check Sasha again using the rear-view mirror. All the excitement must have worn her out, as she’s deep in sleep.

I start to slow down when I see the lights ahead have turned to amber but go a little heavier on the brakes when a rusty gray Camaro cuts in front of me. At first, I assume that they’ve done that so they can run the red light, but when they come to a sudden stop, I guess he’s just a fast and furious wannabe. The next thing I know, there’s a Honda pulled up right beside me.

“Can I help you?” I ask through the open window when the passenger jumps out of the car and steps towards me. He leans in, his hand pulls on the handle, and the door swings open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I grab hold of the edge of the open window and go to yank the door closed. But when he pulls out a knife and waves it in front of me, he gets the better of me. With a quick slash of the blade, the seatbelts gone, and he’s yanking me out of the car. “No, no,” I cry, twisting my body as I try and get him to release his hold. I swing my free arm out and bring it down hard against the side of his head.

“You little bitch,” he growls in my face.

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