“That’s a personal question on me. And we aren’t getting to know me.” I wanted to ride that fact home to him. “Next business question.”
He studied me for a bit longer. I felt like his eyes could see through me. Like he could see I was putting up a front and being next to him was so bloody tempting I was nearly forgetting about my rule of judge the actions not the image.
“Unless you don’t have one. In that case, I’m leaving.” I went to get up, but his hand fell on my bare leg.
“Are you recruiting?” he asked a business question. Well, it wasn’t really my business, though. I didn’t know if I should tell him the truth or not.
“I don’t think I should answer that,” I finally decided. That was Cyrus’s place.
“Trying to outman the mother charter of another club?”
I frowned. “Like Cyrus would ever go up against the mother charter of you lot.”
“Your dad loves money and power, two things setting up another mother charter here would give him.”
“So you think his grand plan is to set up a charter that could wipe yours out? What, set up a deadly dozen mother charter here?”
“It makes sense.”
Ridiculous! “That’s it, I’m leaving!” I would not sit here and hear rubbish. Cyrus didn’t want to take them out. Cyrus sure as fuck didn’t want to be a mother charter president. He liked being under the umbrella. Not in charge of the umbrella.
“Layla!”
I was up and going.
“Dad was thinking it, too!” he said to my back.
“Well, I didn’t pick Reaper as stupid but I already knew you were.” God, this house was like a maze. I just followed the hallway.
“I’m guessing by your reaction the answer to the question is a no.” Tyson pushed past me and then blocked my path. “Calm down, I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“Well, that’s exactly what you did, Tyson. Insult me. My family. My club. Because the last thing Cyrus wants is a war over bloody money and territory.” I shook my head, feeling more furious than ever. “You know nothing about him, if you think that is the type of man he is.”
“We all know his reputation. Your dad has made a name for himself.”
“Says the man whose father is the Reaper!”
“So we agree our fathers are as ruthless as each other?”
“If you really knew my father, you wouldn’t be standing in my way right now.” I gritted out. Rex was my real father. He was the one with the reputation. My real father would shoot Tyson just for looking at me. So Tyson standing in my way would have got a bullet. Cyrus, however, was more reasonable and only shot when someone touched me.
I wasn’t proud of my father. I refused to visit him in prison. I stopped seeing him when I was ten. The same time Cyrus came into my life and showed me what a real dad was like.
My real dad, the man’s blood that ran through my veins, well, he killed for fun. It was a sport to him. He barely needed a reason. He worked for whoever paid the most. You could be the target one second but increase what he was getting paid and become the client the next.
He didn’t do loyalty. His main clients were bikers and other criminals. He worked for them because his clients didn’t want their name getting around or they just couldn’t handle the blood. And if there was one thing my real dad was good at, it was taking blood.
Rex and Reaper were as feared as each other. The only difference between them was Rex was currently in a forced retirement involving prison bars, while Reaper ruled a mother charter. And his son made my life impossible.
“Move, Tyson.”
“We haven’t finished talking business.”
“If you want to know about recruiting, then talk to Cyrus. I do the books. I make sure people get paid and the money that goes back to the club is clean. That’s it.”
Tyson sighed, looking as frustrated as I felt. “Look at my chest.” Tyson uncrossed his arms.
My eyes dropped to his vest, he had a lot of patches considering he would have only been a member for three years. He never wore the vest at school. The only other night I had seen it was at that party. I looked closer. There was one patch under his mother charter patch: sergeant at arms. He was their enforcer.