Page 7 of Dutch

"Can we just agree to work together?" I asked.

Makari stared at me. "Okay, but don't think this changes anything."

I watched her sharp movements, and my eyes followed the curve of her neckline.Damn, I couldn't go there, not now.I reminded myself. "You good to go?" I asked.

"Yeah, as good as I can be in this shit show."

"Cool, we're going to head to the club first."

"Great, I get to sit around and watch the crew twiddle thumbs."

I smirked. "Not exactly. I need to make a few calls and find out why they're targeting you. It's also best for us to lay low."

As we moved to the door, I texted Rico to increase patrol around our territory and to call in a few favors from the local PD.

As Makari moved through her apartment, she grabbed a sketchbook. "I need my therapy."

"Don't forget your meds," I reminded her.

"I'm not a child." She shot me a glare.

"I'm just looking out for you. Stay close," I ordered as we entered the hallway. I scanned for potential threats as she locked her door.

Her body stiffened as my hand instinctively moved to the small of her back. In the parking lot, I guided her to my bike and handed Makari my helmet. Our eyes locked, and history between us filled the air.

"Ready?" I asked, swinging my leg over the bike. Makari climbed on behind me, her arms wrapped around my waist, and I felt her lay her head against my back.

I kicked the Harley into gear, and we peeled out, leaving behind the wreckage of Makari's life.

We rolledup to the Sons of Shadows clubhouse, and I cut the engine on my Harley.

"We're here." Makari climbed off my bike and I swung my leg over. I gestured to the entrance. "Stay close."

I could tell by her facial expression that she was uneasy going inside. "Showtime," I declared, pushing the door open. It was business as usual. Loud voices, music thumping, and pool balls clacking.

However, when we stepped inside, a heavy silence hit as every head turned our way and the record scratched. All right, not literally, but damn if it didn't feel like it. I kept my face neutral and clocked every reaction. People were a trip with their not-so-subtle whispers.

"The hell…" Someone hissed.

Makari stiffened next to me. She tried to play it cool with her chin up, but her hands were curled into fists. I knew her well enough to know she was uncomfortable.

I fought the urge to put my hand on her back. I couldn't afford to show weakness, not now. I scanned the room, meeting people's glares head-on. A few looked away, but there were a few who held my stare.

Fuck. This was going to be more difficult than I thought. Bringing Makari was a risk, but seeing suspicion and doubt hit differently. These people were my family, and they were giving me the stank eye as if I'd lost my damn mind.

"Dutch, maybe this wasn't?—"

"Don't worry," I cut her off, keeping my tone light. Even if I wasn't feeling it, I had to project confidence.

I spotted Saint, who approached us.

"A word?" he demanded low.

I nodded. "What's up, brother?"

Saint eyed Makari. "Alone."

Makari responded before I could. "If you have a problem with me, you can say it to my face!"

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