After Burn (Lost Kings MC 10)

“Funny how that works out.” I roll my eyes and turn back to Teller. “Carter still okay driving the truck?”

“Yeah, says he’s looking forward to it.” Teller lifts his chin at Stash. “You gonna remember to go check on my place?”

“Fuck yeah.” He reaches ove

r and slaps Hoot on the back. “Me and Hootie got things covered here.”

“Both you fuckwits better remember to feed the dogs,” Z reminds them.

“Thank fuck,” Birch, who’s usually pretty quiet during church, says. “I thought I was gonna get stuck driving the cage.”

“You’re driving the van,” Wrath says with barely concealed glee. Birch may have finally earned his full patch, but he’s still one of the lowest ranking members and gets plenty of shit work thrown on him.

“You’re gonna make me trailer my bike all over like a fucking punk?”

“Yup.” Wrath grins.

“We need new prospects,” Birch grumbles. That wipes the smirk off Wrath’s face, which Birch doesn’t miss. “Sorry.”

Wrath holds up a hand. “You’re right. We need to think about new blood.”

“Fuck knows I’m gonna get grilled about it at National,” I grumble.

“Malik’s been coming around Crystal Ball more, but I don’t think he’s ready for a trip like this,” Z says. “Too unpredictable.”

“Agreed.” I glance around the table again. “I’m sure I’ll get chewed out at National about growing our numbers. Anything else?”

We adjourn the meeting and I stand to talk to some of the brothers on their way out. Teller, Murphy, and Wrath remain at the table.

When everyone else has left, I cock an eyebrow at Teller. His gaze darts to Murphy and Wrath before speaking. “I got the money squared away from the IPO.”

“Yeah?” I pull out my chair and sit back down.

“Are we reporting it to National?” Teller asks.

I glance at Wrath and Murphy. “Why didn’t you bring it up at the table?”

“I wanted to talk to you about it first.” He shrugs. “Figure you tell Wrath everything anyway.” He glances at Murphy again.

“Probably shoulda kept Z here too,” I mutter.

“No one’s gonna breathe a word of it at National, Rock,” Wrath says. “No reason to.”

He’s right. Our charter might be part of a larger organization, but we’re still tight-lipped with anyone outside Upstate. “How much did it end up being?”

Teller passes over a piece of paper that raises my eyebrows. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” Teller agrees.

“National’s gonna want a piece,” Wrath says after checking out the figure.

“Fuck that. That was all Teller’s doing,” Murphy says. “We already kick up enough from Sparky’s operation and Crystal Ball. We got overhead here that needs to be addressed. Members who need to help out their families. National doesn’t give a shit about any of that.”

“He’s right,” Wrath says.

I tap the paper in front of me. “Can this be traced back?”

“Not easily.”

I don’t like doing things behind my brothers’ backs, but since this is for them, I figure they’ll forgive me. Plus, the fewer who know, the better.

“Take three-quarters and place it in another untraceable account. Anyone asks, we’ll kick up our percentage of what’s left. Say it wasn’t finalized yet. We’ll portion out shares to everyone else over the next few months.”

The corners of Teller’s eyes crinkle from a sly grin. “Works for me.”

I glance at Wrath and Murphy, who both nod.

“I’ll talk to Z about it later,” Wrath assures me.

“Thanks.”

Wrath holds up a hand, stopping Teller. “Before you leave, Teller.”

“What?”

“I can’t ride out tomorrow,” Wrath says, turning my way.

“You fuckin’ serious?” I sit back, pinning him with a hard stare.

“Contractors called early this morning and cancelled on me. Rescheduled for tomorrow. Got a couple other things I need to wrap up before I can take off.”

The rebuild of Furious has been moving quicker than we anticipated, but that doesn’t replace the money Wrath’s losing while it’s shut down. Under the circumstances, I’d be a real dick to pull rank and force him to ride out tomorrow.

“All right.”

“I need Murphy too.” Wrath shoves a finger in Teller’s direction. “You get to play bodyguard at the Demons’.”

Teller rears back. “What? Why me?”

“Murphy’s staying behind with us,” Wrath answers slowly as if he’s explaining it to a two-year old.

I raise an eyebrow and glance Murphy’s way. He throws a scowl at Wrath. “First I’m hearing about it, Prez. But that’s cool.”

“Carter can ride with you two, then,” Teller says. “That’s better than taking him to the Demons.”

Wrath slaps his hand on the table. “I’ll let you two make your phone calls.”

I groan at the reminder. It’s basic biker etiquette to call ahead if you’re planning a large run through another club’s territory and want to fly colors. Still fucking annoying.

Teller stands. “I’m gonna head home. Unless you still need me…”

“Nah, go on.” I give his cut a once-over. “Better put some dirt on that Brother’s Keeper patch before we get to National.” I slide my gaze Murphy’s way. “You too.”

They both snort. Teller rubs his knuckles over the couple-month-old patch that still looks freshly stitched-on, then glances at my cut. “When do I earn one of those Respect Few, Fear None patches?”

“Hopefully never.” That one’s only earned by doing time for the club.

His expression sobers and he squeezes my shoulder briefly. “Thanks for looking out for me all these years.” He glances at Murphy. “Both of us. Probably woulda ended up in prison if it wasn’t for you settin’ us straight.”

Wrath jerks his thumb toward the door. “Should I leave? You two need some alone time?”

“Fuck off,” Teller growls. “I’m serious.”

As obnoxious as Wrath is, I appreciate the second of snark to collect my thoughts. “Club wouldn’t be where it is without you, Teller.” I glance at Murphy and then finally Wrath. “Any of you. Make me proud in Mississippi.”

“We will,” Teller promises.

Once he and Wrath leave, I focus on Murphy. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”

I thought I timed it right to be waiting in the living room when the guys were finished with church. But everyone except Rock, Wrath, and Murphy come out of the war room.

Z grabs the dogs’ leashes and takes them outside, promising to return for lunch. Sparky and Stash run downstairs, bickering the entire time. Bricks and Dex stop by to say hello before heading outside to the garage. The rest of the guys wave on their way to the kitchen.

Teller drops down on the couch next to me. “How you doing, First Lady?”

“Is Murphy in trouble?”

His mouth pulls into a slow grin. “Nah. Why would you think that?”

Before I have a chance to answer, Charlotte pops into the living room. “Done already?”

Teller pulls her into his lap. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs against her hair.

“Puke!” Ravage shouts next to them. Teller throws his middle finger up without looking away from Charlotte.

“All set at the office?” Charlotte asks me.

“Yup. You?”

She rolls her eyes. “Judge Potter tried adjourning one of my trials until next Friday. I was like, ‘No way, motherfucker.’” She laughs and pats Teller’s chest. “Gonna be on the back of my man’s bike for the next two weeks.”

“Yeah you are,” Teller answers in a low voice, narrowing the distance between their mouths.

Uncomfortable.

Ravage grins.

I clear my throat before the two of them start going at it on the couch in front of us. “Charlotte, I love that lipstick. What is it?”

Under his breath, Teller mutters, “Erection in a tube.”

My gaze flicks his way, but his eyes are glued to Charlotte.

She reaches down and grabs her purse, digging through it until she pulls out a dark red tube. “Matte liq

uid lipstick. The color is Blood Moon,” she reads before handing it to me.

“I don’t think I can pull off such a dark color,” I say, pulling out the wand and checking out the deep, dark red liquid. “But it’s fabulous on you.”

“Dick-sucking red,” Ravage adds, settling down across from us. Teller throws him a scowl and Ravage shrugs. “What? That’s what guys think of when a chick they’re into wears stuff like that,” he explains, waving his hands at both of us.

Immune to the wild things that come out of Ravage’s mouth by now, I ignore him. “I’m always worried it will wear off and I’ll look like a half-deranged clown.” I purse my lips and widen my eyes to emphasize the deranged part, making the three of them laugh.

Charlotte ducks her head, still laughing. “This one’s kiss-proof, but not um, everything proof.”

“See!” Ravage shouts, standing and pointing to Teller. “Told ya.”

“Who do you think she’s rubbing it off on, jackass?”

Charlotte lightly slaps Teller’s cheek.

His mouth pulls into a smirk. “Sorry, Sunshine. Was that a secret?”

She huffs and slides out of his lap onto the couch. “Boys.” She rolls her eyes and plucks the lipstick out of my hands. “Come here, Hope.”

“What?” My gaze shoots to her fingers unscrewing the gloss. “No way.”

“Sit still,” she orders, grabbing a napkin from the table and dabbing my neutral pink gloss off my lips.

“What’re you doing?” My words end up garbled as Charlotte smooshes my chin between her vise-grip fingers, tugging me closer. “Dammit, you’re strong.”

“Shit, this is kinda hot,” Ravage mutters. “Are you gonna kiss her, Charlotte?”

“Shut up,” Teller growls.

“Don’t move. This is a bitch to get off if I don’t place it just right.”

“Oh goodie, please paint my face blood-moon-red, Charlotte,” I mutter.

“Quiet,” she orders. “Purse your lips.”

“Can’t we do this in the bathroom?” I protest, my eyes roaming to Ravage’s too-eager expression.

“Open your mouth. Like this.” She demonstrates the “O” she wants me to form with my lips.