Page 15 of Her Avenging Angel

Raven narrowed his eyes. “Why are you coming to me with this instead of Diesel?” Diesel was the road captain. It was his job to plan their runs and make sure things went as smoothly as possible. If Dagger had a concern, it should go to Diesel first, then, if there was a problem, Diesel would bring it to Raven. At least that was how it was supposed to work. That was why there was a chain of command, so he wasn’t bothered with every petty concern of every brother in the club.

Now he sat, glaring across his desk at his treasurer and wondered where things had gone wrong. Dagger met his gaze then looked away, looking as if now that he was here, he was having second thoughts.

“Tell me.”

“He’s making plans for you not to go with us. I said he should check with you before he counts you out. He says you won’t want to leave the girl, so there’s no point. I insisted that it still needs to be cleared that you’re not riding along.” Dagger took a deep breath then continued. “He finally gave in and said fine, but I had to do the checking. He wasn’t going to waste time or bother you with something he knew the answer to.”

He stared at the man sitting across the desk, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He wondered if Dagger was aware of how childish he sounded? Raven wasn’t saying he was wrong. He wasn’t, but the explanation had sounded like a pair of preschoolers wanting daddy’s attention. But as badly as he may want to, and as cranky as he was today, he knew better than to say it. It would only cause hurt feelings and more shit that he didn’t want to deal with. Raven sighed. And let his head fall back for a moment. Then spoke.

“You’re both right. I need to talk to you both about this. Go get him.” Raven didn’t lift his head as he heard Dagger stand and move to the door.

“Diesel, in here!”

Raven lifted his head and shot the treasurer a less than thrilled look. “I could have done that.”

Dagger didn’t respond, just lifted one shoulder and let it fall before resuming his seat. A moment later Diesel appeared in the doorway.

“Yes?”

“Have a seat,” Raven looked between the two of them for a moment, waiting to see if either had anything more to say. After a full minute passed and neither said anything, he took a deep breath and pinned Diesel with a look that said he wasn’t thrilled to have to deal with this.

“Dagger came to me with a concern, and I wanted to talk to you both about it.” Raven paused, waiting to see if either wanted to jump in and say something, not that he would let them, but knowing if they wanted to would tell him more about the situation—whether it was a power play or if it was just the road captain doing what he thought was best. “You were both right.” He took a moment, watching them before continuing. “I’m going to have to bow out of the next run. I don’t feel like I can leave Taylynn alone yet and she’s just not up to the trip, at least not yet. But I need you to check with me and be sure before planning for that.” Raven focused on Diesel. “I understand you were trying to make things easier, to anticipate what I would want and what I would do. I appreciate that. But for the sake of clarity, and avoiding crossed wires, check with me.” He moved his gaze over to Dagger. “That said, I will not be making this run. If, on the run you have something you need input on, and you have time to call about it, call. If you can’t reach me or if there’s not time to try, Jersey will make any decisions that need to be dealt with.” He looked back and forth between the two of them several times, waiting for either to argue or speak up.

He was still waiting when the sound of a crash, glass breaking and an interrupted scream came from the main room. Raven was on his feet before he thought about it. That had been Taylynn’s voice. Was she hurt? What had happened? He needed to get to her. That was all that mattered. Making sure she was okay.

“Pres?” Shotgun called from the main room. “We need you out here.”

Raven was in the hallway before his enforcer finished calling for him.

Chapter Twelve

Taylynn handed a coupleof open beer bottles across the bar, grabbing a double handful of the empties that had accumulated on the bar top while she’d been busy organizing one of the cabinets across the bar. She was turning around to put them in the recycling bin when she crashed into something warm and hard. The bottles slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor and exploding.

But it wasn’t until hands gripped her upper arms, keeping her from moving away that she lost control. She screamed. Her heart raced and she shut her mouth, cutting off the scream short as she tried to pull away, to get away. She had to escape. She wouldn’t let this happen again. But the hands wouldn’t let go. She had to get away. She fought. Hands pounding against the chest that held her. She twisted, she fought, she had to get free. She had to get away. She couldn’t do this. Not again. Never again.

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