Page 14 of Pope’s Purgatory

Until then, I need to make sure I have everything in place for her to take off when the times comes. I’ve always taught her that if anything was to ever happen, she was to take whatever was in the safe in our home office and use it to get herself clear. Over the last week, I’ve been adding everything of importance that I could think of that she’d need when the time comes, because I know my Birdie, and that safe is going to be the first place she heads to when she comes back here to pack up. I keep cash in there already, but I need to make sure she has enough to take care of herself, so I’ve added more to it. There’s a little over two hundred grand, along with a new knife, pistol, and all the paperwork to the trust that Mad Dog and Piston had set up for her, Valkyrie, and Cyanide.

When Birdie is ready to skip town, she’ll have everything she needs to ensure she’s taken care of until I can get to her and bring her home.

As much as I know I shouldn’t, I’m unable to pull away from her sad eyes without giving her something, so I blow her a kissand tap two fingers to my heart. Birdie places her hand against the glass before letting the curtain fall closed between us.

I fire up the bike and fly out of the driveway, my pipes leaving an angry roar behind me.

The Steel Slayers have been quiet since I left their man at their gate two days ago, but I don’t expect it to last, which is why I need to bring my plan to the council and put it to a vote. None of them are going to like it. Birdie and Valkyrie are club princesses. They’re loved by our people very much. This won’t go over well with any of them, and it’s liable to cause tension within the club. But once we take out the Steel Slayers and she’s back home, they’ll understand why it needed to be done.

I’m only doing what I need to save her.

I’d sent off a text earlier to the council group chat calling for Church. When I storm through the clubhouse doors full of piss and vinegar, they climb to their feet and follow me into the chapel. They scatter throughout the room, dropping into their seats around the table.

Gavel leans back, his heavily bulging arms folded across his chest. There’s a soullessness in his eyes that would petrify me if I was anyone else. He’s got a bandage across his nose and one of his eyes is black from his latest round in the ring. I caught sight of his hands before he tucked them under his arms, and they were covered in cuts and bruises. Guarantee his torso is also painted gnarly shades of purple, black, and yellow.

“Got a fucking problem, boy?” Gavel growls, his disrespect causing Malice and Cyanide to tense beside me.

“Know you’re hurting. Fuck, anyone would be. But watch your tone. You’re my grandfather, but I still won’t deal with your disrespect. I’m your fucking President, and you’ll address me as such in this fucking room. Am I understood,brother?” I bark, putting emphasis on the last word.

Something akin to regret flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone before I can be sure.

“Understood, Prez,” he says gruffly.

Tomcat is situated and ready to record the meeting’s minutes, so I get us started. “As you all know, we’ve been dealing with threats from the Steel Slayers. Many of those threats are directed at Birdie, but Valkyrie has also been the target of some of them.”

“They’re going after the club princesses,” Gavel says, his voice gravelly from unuse.

“Do you have any idea why Clink is targeting me, the girls, or the club? According to one of their men who attacked me and Birdie, whatever I have, Clink wants. He won’t stop until he takes everything from me.”

Gavel’s brows furrow as he tries to figure out what Clink’s reasoning could be, but when he shakes his head, I let out a sigh of frustration.

“Fuck. Okay. It was worth a shot. So, that means until we have Clink in our hands, we’re never going to know the full truth.”

“What are we doing about the threats to the girls?” Ducky asks.

“This is the part y’all aren’t going to like. I have a plan in place to protect our girls until we deal with the Steel Slayers, but it’s going to be hard and it’s going to fucking suck.”

I spend the next thirty minutes going over the plan Cyanide and I came up with, and just like him, none of them are happy about it. Manic especially because he knows that when Birdie hurts, Valkyrie hurts, and where Birdie goes, Valkyrie follows. We’re not just losing one club princess when I break Birdie’s heart, we’re losing both. The brother has had a hard-on for Kyrie for as long as I can remember, but he’s never pushed them further than friendship because of their age difference and who she’s related to. Fucking hate that this is going to cause him to lose out on more time with her.

“Why can’t we just go to war with them instead? It’s not like we don’t have the means,” Savior suggests.

“We can and we will, but the Steel Slayers are too fucking big for it to be easy or over quickly. It’s going to get nasty, and a lot of blood will be fucking shed. If I have to keep my focus on Birdie’s safety, then I’m going to be too distracted to do my job as your President properly. I’d rather hurt her now to keep her breathing and make it up to her after the war is over than lay her six feet under. Telling you right now, I will not fucking survive the latter.”

“But will you be able to survive the former?” Gavel asks quietly, his voice heavy with personal experience.

We’re all quiet as we process what this will mean for our club. One of our own is about to be destroyed at our hands, and it’s going to change everything.

Especially me.

I smack the gavel, calling an end to Church, and stay seated as I watch my brothers file out of the room. Malice and Cyanide stay behind, lending me their support as always. Manic would have stayed, but emotions are riding him hard at the possibility of Valkyrie leaving the club—and essentially him—behind to follow her sister.

I understand because those same emotions are trying to break through the wall I have them locked behind.

“This is gonna change you, Pope,” Malice points out.

“It’s going to change us all,” I reply.

I focus on the picture of our entire club up on the wall. As always, Birdie’s snuggled under my arm, beaming at the camera and still refusing to wear her property kutte as I begged of her.

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