Page 33 of Blackout-

“You heard the man, he said the house needs some love…Ally will give it love and make it homey.”

“She does have a knack for decorating,” Cobra agrees. “However, you should probably warn him about the throw pillows.”

“Oh, man, you have no idea. I suffocate every time I sit on the couch,” Deuce mutters.

“If you bitches are done talking about linens, maybe you can find your dicks, so we can get back to business,” Jack growls.

Cobra and Deuce stop talking as Pipe leans back and unlatches the key ring from the belt loop of his jeans. Tossing the key onto the table, he flicks it toward Bas, demanding he take it.

“It’ll only be Mac and Ryder staying there,” Bas mutters. “I’m going to be going back to my apartment.”

“You just told us their lives are in danger and your plan is to leave them alone at Pipe’s?” Linc questions.

“I was hoping the club would provide protection,” Bas replies, looking back at Jack. “I’m not asking you guys to get involved in this mess. I know the last thing any of you need is a bunch of drug lords sniffing around your territory but while I work on eliminating the threat against Mac and Ryder, I was hoping you’d throw a couple of prospects on them.”

Crossing his arms against his chest, Jack leans back and fixes him with a stare. We don’t have a couple of prospects floating around. We got Leo, and the kid hasn’t done much more than rotate tires around this joint.

“You know what I’m going to ask next,” Jack says, pausing for a moment. “You putting a claim on Mac and Ryder?”

“If that’s what it takes for the club to back me,” Bas replies.

Jack laughs.

“The club is going to back you regardless, son,” Jack tells him. “It’s the rest of this world that needs to know they’re off limits, that they’re under the protection of the Satan’s Knights. You want me to put a prospect on them because you’re a pussy who's afraid of getting attached to a woman you still love and a kid you share blood with— I’ll give you the prospect but you ain’t running after a fucking cartel without your brothers behind you.”

My eyes widen and snap back to Jack.

He can’t be serious.

It’s one thing to have us watch over Mac and Ryder, it’s another to get mixed up with a fucking cartel. For fuck’s sake, it’s suicide.

“Any business of yours is business of this club,” he continues, ignoring my glare. “Now, we don’t know what we’re dealing with and, as usual, we’re riding blind. If this winds up being bigger than us and we start calling in favors, every charter is going to ask who these two belong to and you’re going to tell them, they belong to you. They are yours which makes them ours.”

“Mac and Ryder are mine,” Bas reiterates. “My property and my responsibility. That being said, I would appreciate the support of my club in keeping them mine.”

“You got it,” Jack says immediately. “Now, was that so hard?”

Normally, I would stand behind Jack. I’d agree with everything he’s saying. Bas is a brother and we take care of our own. But I got Lacey’s voice in the back of my head, reminding me his meds aren’t fucking working. On top of that, this guy hasn’t mentioned the paramedic he’s got stashed in the woods, on death row.

Still, I don’t call him out on his shit. Instead, I curl my fists and bite my tongue as Jack starts firing off orders. It isn’t long before everyone is drinking the Kool-Aid, ready to spring into action. No one questions Jack’s plan.

They don’t blink an eye at the mention of the cartel or take a minute to think this thing through logically.

They adhere to the mania in Jack’s eyes and do as they’re told.

Sweeping his gaze around the table, Jack reaches for the mallet.

“Is there anything else?”

The man is about to throw us into a war with another faceless enemy. Before things get out of control and I lose the chance, I need to ask him about his mental health. If not for the sake of the club than for Lacey.

“There’s one more thing,” I say, pinning him with a hard stare. “What happened with the doctor?”

“This ain’t the time nor the fucking place,” Jack fires back, slamming the utensil down. Releasing it, he sendsmyfucking mallet rolling down the middle of the table before he hastily pushes back his chair and rises to his full height.

“Church is adjourned,” he spats, glaring at me.

“Good,” I reply, pushing out of my chair. “Then you can tell us, your family, what happened with the fucking doctor.”

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