Page 9 of A Dangerous Game
“No idea,” Thorn murmurs and stares at the house with wonder. I know he’s thinking all this is now going to fall on him. Him being the vice president and everything. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now.
“Someone has some ideas. Did you guys do a deal and it didn’t work out?” The detective digs.
Rolling my neck, I shove my hands into my pockets. “We had a deal, Woods. We don’t involve you and we don’t bring our shit into the territory. Whatever happened, we don’t know shit.”
That must have been enough reasoning for him. He nods his head. “I don’t want you causing shit. I don’t need the paperwork on my desk.”
Thorn salutes him and runs over to the fire chief who’s going through the carnage. I would have expected him wanting to go see his dad but I get he’s confused right now.
Hell, we all are.
“What the fuck happened at that last meet?” Fish asks and lights a cigarette.
I look over his shoulder and take in the house. The fucking thing is destroyed. There’s no way it was an accident. Someone planned this and they planned it at the right time. Who?
Who would have guts to go against Bishop?
“Nothing that would have sparked this!” I growl.
Thorn runs over to us and he looks pissed. “There’s fuckin’ scharpnal in there. This wasn’t random.”
Which can only mean one fucking thing. “We’re goin’ to war.”
*
We’re all waiting in the waiting room at the hospital trying to figure out what’s going to happen to Bishop. If Bishop is going to live or if he’s going to die.
There’s no secret that Bishop and I have had our issues but I still got love for the president. After coming to from the beat down of my life, he sat me down and told me the horrors of having a daughter. How much it fuckin’ sucks when they get their heart’s broken. How he hopes he never has to witness seeing his little girl crying like that again.
I deserved all the guilt I felt and I have atoned for all my wrong doings. I would like to think we have moved past me breaking his daughter’s heart all those years ago.
Moments like this, where our future is unclear, I remember the amount of respect I have for the man who took me in as one of his. Who taught me how to ride a motorcycle and how to shave. How to carry a gun without the cops seeing it. How to file the serial numbers off guns for them not to be traced.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I come to terms with the fact that I’m probably going to see Sinclair. It's bad enough that she’s a porn star- trust me, I’m well aware of this. What’s worse? The brothers try to dance around this fact like I’m not aware. I remember the noises she used to make as I slid into her from behind. How she would scream when I fucked her tight ass until she couldn’t walk. I remember all of it. And how could I not? She’s the best I ever had.
The problem? The brothers that didn’t grow up with her being their kid sister, all watch her movies and hide them in their rooms like I don’t know they are jacking off to her.
She was a hot piece of ass and she’s still one.
“All right, what the fuck are we gonna do if he-” Thorn starts and then is cut off by the doctor walking into the room.
The doctor is a hot woman who’s got some lucious tits and curves. Her lips are curved up into a smile but it's her eyes that make me take a second look. She looks classy. Not like these other chicks I see around here. “Family of Bishop Mendoza?”
We all stand up and walk in a herd of leather to the doctor. “We’re his family,” Thorn says.
The doctor’s eyes widen while she looks over all of us. “All right, he’s going to be fine. He’s suffered some smoke inhalation in his lungs but he will be fine.”
We all let out a deep breath.
“Good! When can we see him?” I question. I’m anxious to find out if Bishop knows anything and how we’re going to proceed. An attack on the clubhouse is one thing, but an attack on the president’s personal house is completely different.
She winks at me and looks down shyly at the paper. “Right now.”
Without waiting for any more information, we’re down the hall and bursting through Bishop’s door to see for ourselves he’s okay. All thirty of us are packing ourselves into the room before the doctor even tells us it's okay for all of us to be in here.
Like that would fucking stop us.
“Mr. Mendoza can’t have any stress. If his heart rate rises too far, I’m going to ask you to leave,” the doctor states and closes the door.
