Page 5 of Dutch

"I'm sorry. I'll distract them while you run out with the flour. Lord knows we don't need the apartment building burning down on top of my ransacked place."

"Dutch, I need your help."Hearing Makari's voice caused my spine to stiffen.

"Makari?" I questioned, moving away from the pool table where Rico and Trigger were locked in a competitive game.

"I need your help," she blurted in a rush.

I inhaled and grabbed the bridge of my nose. "What are we talking about? My leather game is strong if you're looking for fashion tips."

Shit, she didn't laugh.

"It's serious, I wouldn't call if?—"

I cut her off. "I know you wouldn't."

Tunnel vision set in after Makari said she needed me. Part of me wanted to grab my crew and rescue her like a knight in shining leather. Still, the voice of reason reminded me that bringing Makari into the Sons of Shadows business was like throwing water on a grease fire.

"Give me thirty minutes and stay put," I demanded, ending the call.

I stood there staring at the phone like it would bite me.Fuck, I didn't need this kind of smoke, not now.Withthe Red Scorpions sniffing around, Makari was like the pin in a hot grenade.

I smirked at the situation. I always had a knack for finding trouble. Makari's voice lingered in my mind, stirring up emotions I thought I'd buried deeper than Jimmy Hoffa. I swear Makari had a way of getting under my skin when I knew I shouldn't have cared.

I'd barely made it back to the pool table when my second-in-command, Saint, slid up to me. His face was as hard as the pool stick that he rolled between his hands. "Word on the street is the Red Scorpions have their eyes on your girl."

I picked up a stick, and my grip tightened on it as he spoke. "She's not my girl," I groaned.

It was making sense why she called now. The Red Scorpions were all teeth and no grace. If they were after Makari…

"Shit, any idea why?" I questioned, running a hand down my face.

Saint shrugged. "They could be trying to get to you. Who knows? Either way, Makari is caught in the crosshairs."

I nodded, my brain kicking into overdrive.

"Dutch! We need to talk!" Rico's voice boomed across the room.

I looked to find the crew gathered. "Oh, so we're having an intervention? What's on your minds?" I asked, leaning against the pool table, attempting to keep my tone light.

Rico, our Sergeant-at-Arms, and all of his six-foot-five frame radiated disapproval. "We heard you talking to Makari, and you've been off your game ever since that call."

I raised an eyebrow. "Since when did my personal life become a topic of discussion for the committee?"

"Any time our president's head is anywhere but the game and affecting the club," Trigger answered.

They weren't wrong, but the implication stung. "That call was ten minutes ago, and last I checked, I've handled our business with no problems.

"Yeah, but for how long before this thing with Makari slaps us in the face?" Rico stated.

I squared my shoulders and met each of their glares. "I have this under control, but I appreciate your concern."

"Do you, though? Because from our point of view, you're about to lead us into a war over a woman," Saint pointed out.

Was I that transparent? What were they seeing that I wasn't?

"We look after our own, and Makari has a history with this club. Am I right?" I asked. "I promise the club will always come first, but right now, there is a situation that needs to be handled. Are you with me?"

"Dutch, we're with you. Just be careful, don't be blinded," Saint advised.

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