Page 72 of Harmless
My brother’s best friend.
My drinking, smoking, riding buddy.
My man, who knew me better than anyone else.
It was crazy to think of all the forms our relationship had taken over the years. I never would have believed second-in-command would be added to the list. And yet, it was a perfect fit.
“We don’t want to go in unprepared,” Torr was saying. “And we can’t exactly have them practice while we’re scouting.”
“We’ll give guns to the most proficient shooters,” I decided. “Everyone will play to their strengths. Give Paige a pair of binoculars, and she can be the head scout. She’s got eagle eyes and can recall all kinds of details. She’ll be the best at noticing patterns of movement. Put her with a skilled shooter so she’ll be adequately covered.”
“Roger that, president.” It was so weird to hear him call me that.
“Even if they don’t have guns, everyone should be armed for self-defense. Knives, brass knuckles, whatever they feel most comfortable with.”
Torr stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. “You’re really sure about riding out in three days?”
I peered up at him. “You don’t think we should?”
“I think they need more training, Ror. Riding and shooting are like second nature to you and me because we’ve done it our whole lives. Only LJ and Val are at a level similar to us. Everyone else?” He swung an arm at the row of people target practicing. “They need months, if not years.”
My first reaction was to push back, to get defensive. If I wasn’t president and he was shooting down any other idea of mine, I’d let him have it. But things were different now, and he was my VP for a reason. Not only that, he wasmine.My partner. I had a responsibility to him and the whole club to at least consider his advice. And if there was one thing I knew about Torr, it was that he would never bullshit me.
“I hear you. I really do.” Continuing on my walk, I looked over to where LJ was talking to a couple of fighters and pointing out different parts on a motorcycle. “But we don’t have that kind of time, Torr. We’ve got to hit the Sisterhood while it’s still scrambling. We can’t let them regroup and get stronger. Plus,” I spun on the toe of my boot, facing Torr as I walked backwards, “I think you’re underestimating these people.”
“Am I?” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.
“They’ve been in survival mode for years. They’ve had to be crafty and think on their feet, make split-second decisions between life and death. They’re nothing if not adaptable.” I stopped short, and Torr nearly ran into me. “Their instincts are good, Torr. And on top of that, they’ve got major skin in this game. They don’t just want to bring this cult down, theyneedto see it happen. For their own closure and peace of mind.”
“Ror, I get all that.” Torr rubbed his jaw. “I’m not questioning their passion, or their survival instincts. I’m just worried about their lack of experience.”
“Well, they’re about to get some.”
“This is one hell of a first ride, Ror. I’m not even sure your dads would’ve been up for this at our ages.”
I glared at him. “They weren’t much older than us when they saved the whole fucking Southwest.”
Torr blew out a breath, scanning the flurry of activity in our surroundings again. “I’d just feel a lot more comfortable going on smaller rides with these guys first.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” I retorted. “You’d find something else to worry about. We have to act, Torr, and not overthink things.”
“Says the queen of overthinking,” he teased.
“Trust me. I’m still doing plenty of that.” I raked my fingers back through my hair until my palm landed on my nape. “But I really think we can pull this off.”
He nodded, resigned. “If that’s what you feel, I trust you.”
We kept walking, observing how everyone was doing with their training, giving occasional pointers and answering the questions of anyone who came up to us. In the quiet moments, my brain was still a flurry of activity.
Carter had wanted to take more time too. Preparation. Planning. He and Torr were of alike mind in that. I fought my cousin tooth and nail on how long we took to attack the resort. He still didn’t feel fully prepared when we finally did leave, but if we had been a day late—fuck, even an hour—either Torr or Santos, if not both, would be dead right now.
Preparation was important, sure. I wasn’t discounting that. But there was something to be said for diving in headfirst and letting your instincts guide you. Ideally, we would have a balance of both. But time was a luxury we didn’t have.
We couldn’t prepare for shit we couldn’t even see. Scouting would be our preparation. And gods willing, our instincts would lead us on the rest.
I looked up to where Astarte sat on the roof of the detached garage, always watching. “I’m doing it,” I said quietly. “Trusting my gut. Following my instincts. Any commentary you’d like to offer up?”
Nothing but silence, as usual.
