Page 24 of Cougar

“It’s a gift,” he claps his hand on Judge’s shoulder and turns to face the room. “I come with unpleasant news. May I?” he looks at Cowboy, waiting for his approval. When Cowboy nods, Artem faces us again. He puts his knuckles on the table and leans his weight on them. He is commanding all of our attention in such a simple move. The man radiates power.

“I have an inside man with the feds. He’s told me that his team is looking into the cops here. They knew that the town was loaded with cocaine plus but don’t know how it’s all of a sudden gone. They were attempting to get all the dirt on Connard, but that seems to have come to a standstill now that I run the drugs.”

“If you have an informant within the feds, why not tell them you have the drugs?”

“And end up in a ten by ten cell? No. YA tak ne dumayu. Idiot.”

“Hey,” Cowboy throws his hands up, “I just figured if someone is giving you information, that same someone would do what they need to keep your ass out of lockup.”

“He may be willing to give me information, but he isn’t willing to save me. He has no loyalty to me in that regard. But business is business, and I need the information. In exchange for him giving me the heads-up about the feds coming into town and looking around, I promised to give him the information on how the kids are taken.”

“You had no fucking right!” Cowboy shouts as he, Storm, and Judge all stand.

“Syad’ na khuy. I didn’t mention you, but I had to give them something. That got me more than I agreed to trade. The feds are finding a way to watch all of you, too. Your motions are all being tracked.”

“Fuck!” Cowboy shouts and twists, hitting his chair across the room in the process. “This is the last fucking thing we need. We’re trying to figure out what the fuck is happening with The Company. How are we supposed to do that when the feds are up our asses?”

“How long have you been sitting on this information, Artem?” Storm asks him.

“My informant met me this morning. I came here after I made sure all my product was where it’s supposed to be.”

Cowboy sighs while he pulls his chair back up to the table, plopping his large ass back into it.

“What do we do now, Prez?” I ask after a few moments of awkward silence. It’s gotta be the question on everyone’s mind.

After a moment, he removes his hands from his face, placing them on the table. “The same plan as before.” Taking a deep breath, he looks at all of us on the exhale. “Artem needs to stay with his men and his product. Continue to do whatever the fuck it is you’re doing, and keep that product out of Connard’s hands. The rest of us need to do our parts in finding the answers we need. Look at everyone as if they’re a suspect. Trust fucking no one. The plan doesn’t change. We’re gonna find the answers and get rid of The Company once and for fucking all.”

Everyone agrees and has a newfound determination to make this work. It’s time we get this shit out of our town and save those who haven’t been taken yet.

“One more thing, brothers.” Cowboy pauses, waiting for us all to calm down. “These assholes didn’t know who the fuck they were messing with when they came into our town. It’s time we show them who the Nameless Order really are. It’s time to prepare for war.”

I do everything I can to control my emotions. I’ve always known this could happen. Being in an MC can mean a lot of different things, and war is a large part of it. It’s always been something I hoped to avoid. It isn’t possible. Not until The Company is gone for good.

Everyone nods, “Good. Dismissed.”

Eleven

Aletta

As per the stupid doctor and my stupid boyfriend agreeing with her, I am only allowed one cup of coffee a day. The damn nerve of these people, I swear. If that’s the case, I will splurge and get the best kind of overpriced coffee I can in this small town. While Seattle is the birthplace of Starbucks, this mom-and-pop place makes a pretty good, iced oat milk latte with hazelnut. Some might think this isn’t coffee, but to me, it is, dammit, and I am the hormonal mess!

I should be making my way back to the garage to do what I can, which as of right now, isn’t much. My bump has made getting on the crawler under the cars impossible. Leaning over the hood can only be done for so long before the baby starts to revolt, and my lower back starts to throb. I can still change the oil as the cars are lifted, which is good because I am not meant to do paperwork. The guys have all become overprotective of me, and while I appreciate it, I wish they’d let me be. I need to get my hands dirty. I need to do things that challenge my mind and hands. I can’t sit there and sift through invoices, wondering for the thirtieth time in an hour how Storm is keeping this place going. He pays his suppliers and can get products fast and efficiently, but he charges peanuts on the dollar to a lot of the people that aren’t in the club.

Enough of that, Aletta. You got your drink. Sit back, enjoy the break, and simply just be.

“You really shouldn’t be putting that stuff into your body while carrying that little nugget.” I hear a saccharine-sweet voice from behind me as I take my first sip. I spin and see the woman from the doctor’s office.

“Well, I am. Not that I need to explain anything to you, but per my doctor, I can have one cup a day. But thanks for your false concern.” I get up and walk over to a spot by the window. It’s a spot that will allow me to look out at the streets, so I can watch the cars and people pass by.

“Still, sometimes young mothers need a guiding hand. Especially ones with no real role models in their lives.” This Stepford Wife wanna-be takes a seat across from me. She has a sickly-sweet, almost smug smile on her face. What the fuck is this bitches problem?

I sneer at her. I have zero inclination to be polite to this woman. “I have a lot of great mothers in my life, my own included. I’m curious, though, do you know me? Last I checked, we don’t know each other, and this is the second time you have made vague assumptions about my life.”

She smirks and takes a sip of her drink. When she places the cup down, she taps her fingers in succession before speaking. “I know more than you think. Like how I know that your child would be better off in the care of more experienced adults.” She leans forward, “I know that the so-called daddy isn’t the father,” she whispers. I keep my face in place as she pulls back, “The timelines don’t match up. Lying already? Your kid will learn young. Do you really want your child exposed to this much deceit?” She leans back in her chair, once again bringing her drink to her lips. She raises her brow at me, challenging me to call her bluff. Well, bring it on bitch.

“I don’t know what you think you know, but you haven’t said anything other than your opinions. You haven’t said a single fact.” I stop, close my eyes, and try to calm my raging heart and hormones. “As previously stated, I don’t have to explain myself to you, but here it goes. I am with the father of my child. I have support around me. No matter what you think about them or what they do, the support I have will never waver.”

The look this woman gives me is almost sympathetic. I can’t tell if she is trying to be or if she really believes that I don’t know what I am getting myself into. She reaches over and pats my hand. I pull mine back almost immediately and take my hand sanitizer out of my purse without breaking eye contact. She lets out a small huff, but I don’t care.

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