Che (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 2)

I was sure, though, that I knew Sass pretty well at this point. Enough that she would spend every spare moment trying to convince herself of all the reasons why we couldn't be something legit. More than old friends. More than a couple on official paperwork. We could be one for real. If she would let herself think beyond her preconceived notions, beyond her tentative plans for the future, beyond her fears and uncertainties.

She'd been so unhappy with her own home life growing up that I figured she was struggling picturing herself having that again, with the idea that it could be different than how it had been for her.

It had been unexpectedly heartening to watch her with my crew, with my brothers and the women. Even with the animals. There was an unexpected insecurity there that I got to watch slowly slip away little by little each day. She got more secure in her place among us, had gotten comfortable ribbing the guys and women, had even started opening up to them on occasion.

If she had a little more time, I would put money on her starting to see that she could have things like a family and friends, but still do it on her own terms.

I wanted that for her.

Sure, there was some selfishness in that. I wanted her there with my people. I wanted her with me.

"Yo, are you here with us, or what?" Huck snapped, making me realize I'd drifted off into my own thoughts. Which wasn't helping anything. The sooner we could figure this shit out, the sooner I could have Sass back at the clubhouse, in my bed, around my people. I could ask her if she was willing to give me—and us—a real shot.

"We could try flushing them out," I suggested, it being the only unique thought I'd come up with since we made our way back to the clubhouse. "We've been here for a while. We're pretty well-protected here. That was probably why they'd come after me when I was on a drive with Sass. If we can find a way for one of us to go out, but the others be hiding in the back or something, we might be able to get a few of them to take off after us. We could pick them off. Then try it again until we take their numbers down a little."

"What do you think?" Huck asked, looking at McCoy, Remy, and Seeley.

"It has potential," McCoy said.

"Yeah, but Che's car is crushed. Harmon took Huck's car. We have nothing left but the bikes." Bikes that we'd pulled into the garage just in case anyone got any ideas to sneak into the yard, and mess with them.

"And we don't want to risk any of our people to bring something here," McCoy agreed, sighing.

At the table, Seeley was sitting, tapping his fingers on the wood.

"What?" Huck asked.

"This all sounds like too much thinking," Seeley said.

"You got an easier idea?"

"They have a headquarters in town," Seeley said. "Lots of roofs. Tons of vantage points. Places we can see from, but can't be seen from. Smoke 'em out, take them out, and get out of there before the cops can find us."

"That is more clear-cut," Huck agreed. "But how do we smoke them out? How can we be sure they will all leave the building?"

"Well, we can use your original plan. Throw a Molotov cocktail in through a window."

"That would require someone on the ground," Huck said.

"I'll do it," Seeley said. Young, fearless, eager for some action, with less to lose than most of us. "There would need to be someone on the ground to go inside if it looks like everyone wasn't going outside."

"Thoughts?" Huck asked, looking around at the rest of us.

"It could turn ugly fast," McCoy said.

"I can't think of a single situation where it doesn't have the possibility of turning ugly," Huck said, shrugging. "Not with the numbers as skewed as they are."

"They're in the heart of Miami," Remy piped in. "The cops are only a couple minutes away. It's not like it is out here. We will have a really small window."

"Then it will have to be a really big cocktail," Seeley said. "And really quick trigger fingers."

"It would be near impossible to get away," Remy added.

"Maybe," Seeley agreed, looking over at me. "Unless we had a little help."

A little help.

A wheelman.

Saskia.

"No," I said, not even given it a second of thought.

"It's what she does for a living," Seeley insisted.

"Not for us."

"She wouldn't even be in danger. We'd have neutralized the threats," he said.

"She could get locked up."

"We could all get locked up."

"It's not a risk I want to take with her."

"You think that's a choice she would want you to make for her?" he pressed.

She would want my balls for it, actually, and we all knew it.