“Trauma sticks with you. That shit doesn’t go away, not ever, and closure is a fucking myth created to make people who never experienced trauma feel better. Just be patient with her.”
“I have no other choice,” I tell him because I don’t. I need all the patience in the goddamn world to do what I can to help heal my woman. “I love her, and I’m gonna help her through it. I think Santos’ head on a fucking platter is the best place to start.”
I smile and it’s equal parts evil and delight.
“Good. Glad to see your head is in the game. We’re going to need that energy going forward.” The room falls silent, and all eyes turn to Ace. “We all know why we’re here.”
Wild Man nods and does his Secretary thing. “Meeting called to order at thirteen fifty-two.”
Shades laughs because he finds everything funny, including the fact that Ace behaves like he never left the Marines.
“Fuck off,” Ace mutters half-heartedly because even though we’re all his brothers, Shades and he go back. Way back since before they signed up to fight to preserve the government’s interests around the world. And because those two could argue about the color of a paper bag.
“My bad,” Shades offers by way of an apology, still flashing that devilish grin I swear he woke up with plastered on his face.
“Right. We know what’s coming. War. It’s been leading up to this for the past few months.”
Hector Santos is one deranged motherfucker, and he wants what the Reckless Souls have. Everything we have.
“Santos won’t be shy now about blatantly trying to take over our territory and businesses.”
Ace doesn’t seem particularly worried until I zero in on the way his jaw clenches angrily.
“He can try,” Shades growls. “That motherfucker better enjoy every breath he gets to breathe until I get my hands on him.”
He punches his hand, nearly as mad as I am that Santos got away. If there’s any hope, that fucker is dead on the side of the road somewhere.
Ace nods in response because that’s the sentiment of the whole MC after everything that’s happened. “And I have no doubt Hector knows that. He won’t hide anymore, and we all need to be careful.”
“We should always travel in pairs,” Preacher recommends. “I wouldn’t put it past them to try an ambush if we’re caught out alone.”
He’s right, but Ace isn’t ready for that step and rejects it out of hand.
“And let them think we’re afraid? No way. We need to be diligent but go on about our normal lives. Wear a vest when you’re out. If you need one, Shades has a shit ton. Just got them in last week.”
Preacher leans back in his chair. “I’ll pray even harder for all of us. Especially your Kelsey,” he says somberly to me.
“Yeah, thanks.” I accept his words because Preacher is a good man. A little too religious for my tastes, but he means well. I turn to Ace, all business.
“What about that bomb at the docks?” It never detonated, but that doesn’t mean it won’t.
Ace flashes a satisfied smile and nods. “Joaquin isn’t just a fucking genius with motors. Anything with wires. He disabled that shit while we were hitting the warehouse.”
“No shit?” Shades’ surprise is a surprise to us all since he’s been Ace’s de facto sounding board since Dix got locked up.
“No shit,” Ace replies blandly and turns to Wild Man. “Where is it now?”
“Headed to the Iron Kings clubhouse. They’re expecting a shipment of guns from Texas. And meth from Orange County.” Wild Man shakes his head in disgust. “The guns are on the way here.”
Ace sits up and blinks, a quick flash of anger, and then it’s gone. “Why?”
Wild Man shrugs. “Russian guns go for big bank. Figured Coop can look and see if we can turn a profit off ’em. We left just enough to burn, so Santos won’t notice until angry customers start making threats.”
“Good job.” It’s the highest praise Ace ever gives, and we all know it. Wild Man nods at Ace’s words but otherwise doesn’t react.
“We got leaks at the dock and leaks comin’ from the cops, so we need to be extra careful. Keep this circle so small it’s a fucking dot.”
“Ace is right,” Shades adds, his expression serious for once. “Delaney sent his wife and kid to Paris for the foreseeable future, and usually he goes with them. Safe to say a threat has come from somewhere.”
“And don’t we fucking know where,” Nova snarks because he can’t stomach women and kids being used as collateral damage. He’s seen too much of the damage it leaves during his time in the service. “Hector fucking Santos.”
“We ought to reach out to him,” I recommend, surprising the hell out of Ace, based on his wide-eyed expression. “You know, the enemy of my enemy type of shit. Right now, Hector is threatening his family and our livelihood. That makes us natural allies. We could offer protection.”