Nova (Silver Saints MC) - Page 3

I lifted my chin but didn’t say anything because I recognized the look on my president’s face. Jealousy was riding him hard, and I didn’t want to be the one to invite the green monster out to play.

I’d seen that look a lot lately, what with so many of my brothers falling head over heels, claiming their old ladies, and popping out babies. They’d turned a badass motorcycle club into a fucking nursery school.

Okay...I didn’t hate having all the little ones around. They were damn cute.

“Bridget,” Mac growled.

She threw him a bright smile and sashayed from the room.

I kept my eyes forward, but I had to mash my lips together to avoid laughing.

“Something funny, Rossi?”

“Not a thing,” I replied, patting myself on the back for keeping the amusement out of my tone.

Still, his eyes narrowed into slits, and the jealous, whipped husband morphed back into the cutthroat leader of the Silver Saints MC. I swallowed hard but didn’t give the slightest hint of cowering.

Finally, he took his laser beams off me and focused on a slip of paper on his desk. “Need you for an assignment,” he grunted as he held it out to me.

There was a name and an address on it. I raised an eyebrow when I recognized it as my hometown. I’d never heard of this guy, though. “Rylee Nelsen? Is he a new prospect?”

Mac shook his head and leaned back in his large leather chair. It had seen better days, but he refused to get rid of it. We all had a bet about why, and my theory was that it held too many fucking memories. And I meant that literally.

“She is a friend of Arya’s.”

“What the fuck?” I growled. “Babysitting duty? I don’t have time for that shit. I’m booked solid.” I was using the excuse to get out of the bullshit assignment, but I wasn’t lying. I ran the Silver Saints’ tattoo shop attached to the compound, and I was a damn good artist. I had a waitlist a mile long.

I felt a trickle of guilt at trying to get out of a job that had to do with one of my sister’s friends...but fucking hell. I was an enforcer, not a kindergarten teacher.

Mac stared at me.

After at least a full minute, I grunted in annoyance and asked, “What’s the story?”

“Needs our help getting away from her stepfather. He’s in deep with the mob, and apparently, he thinks he can sell his stepdaughter to pay off the debt.”

“Son of a bitch,” I snarled. How were there so many fucking jackasses in the world? A thought occurred to me then. “You call Nic?” Nic DeLuca was the head of the Italian Mafia in New York. He and Mac went way back. He sometimes helped us out with sticky situations, and we returned the favor when needed.

“Not yet. It’s the Ukrainian mob, and I don’t know how deep his connections go. I’ll see what he has to say, and we can discuss it after you get back.”

“Back?” Then I remembered the address on the paper. Well, shit. “Never mind. I’ll ask Patriot to fill in with anyone who doesn’t want to wait.” Next to me, Patriot, another patch, was the best tattoo artist we had.

Mac nodded. I pivoted around to head out the door, but just before I reached it, his voice stopped me. “Wouldn’t count on her handing you a ladder on this one, brother.”

Gritting my teeth, I flipped him the bird as I stalked down the hall, ignoring his laughter. Great. Just fucking great. Another stalk and steal job.

Mac had met his old lady when he kidnapped her for leverage against her father. When he climbed into her room, she had literally presented him with a ladder to aid their escape.

After squaring things with Patriot, I loaded a saddle bag with some food and water, an extra piece and ammunition, and a change of clothes. The girl was only a six-hour ride away, but I didn’t know how long it would take me to find an opportunity to snatch her.

I was walking out to my bike when my sister, Arya—who was also married to one of my brothers, Dax—came jogging to the door, calling my name. I immediately spun around and hurried over to her.

“Everything okay, sis?”

She nodded and handed me a picture. “I thought it would be helpful if you knew what she looked like since you’ve never met her. She was a year behind me in school, so she just graduated.” It wasn’t a shock that I didn’t know her friend. I adored my sister, but I avoided my hometown whenever possible. I went back fairly often to check on her but rarely stayed more than a night or two, and we always spent them catching up. Arya had always spent a good portion of her school breaks visiting me, and we took a vacation together during the summers. Even after we were both adults, it was always to Disney World. Though I threatened not to go again if she ever breathed a word of that to one of my club brothers.

Tags: Fiona Davenport Romance
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