“It’s Emmy Hayes,” I said, figuring it didn’t make sense to be anything less than direct. “I f**ked her last night and I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing it again in the near future. Hopefully on a regular basis.”
He studied me, eyes cold like a snake’s. Sometimes I wondered why Burke helped me kill Jim all those years ago. At the time I thought he was saving us, that he didn’t like seeing two kids suffer. In retrospect, I wasn’t so sure.
Burke was always ten moves ahead of the rest of us. Had he seen an angry teenager and decided I might suit his purposes some day? The chance to shape a valuable asset for the club? I’d probably never know.
“You with her last night?”
“Yup,” I said, holding his gaze. “That’s why I’m convinced it was the cartel that hit us. I talked to Picnic right after it happened. He had no idea I was with her and no time to put together a story. He played tough, but the man was scared shitless for his kids—scared enough to give me safe passage to take her home. Her dumbass sister was still missing, by the way.”
“Interesting,” he said, betraying nothing. “I know when we started this, you thought keeping her around would work out for you . . . That was under very specific conditions. Apparently those conditions have changed—you’re obviously emotionally invested—and that’s not so convenient for my plans. How serious are you about this?”
“Pretty serious,” I admitted. “I’m not sure where we’re going, but I won’t give her up without a fight.”
Silence fell between us. I held his eyes steadily, refusing to soften what I’d just said or back down.
“I’ll need you to talk to the others,” he said finally. “Explain your relationship with her, including your plans and how they differ from the original arrangement. I won’t have this used against me. Of course, that kills any hope you have for leadership, at least for now.”
“I understand.”
Yeah, I understood. But it hurt.
“There’s some good that can come of this, though,” Burke said thoughtfully. “I’ll have you talk about Hayes’s reaction, explain why it reinforces the cartel theory. We’ve got hotheads pushing for retaliation against the Reapers. They don’t want to believe the cartel has the reach to pull off an attack like this.”
“So you think it was the cartel?”
“I’m certain of it,” he said, his voice grim. “I’ve met the Reapers’ president, Shade. He’s a good man. This isn’t his style. The others don’t want to accept that, though. They’d rather blame another MC than admit we’re really at war with the cartel.”
I nodded, because he was right. Fighting the Reapers was weirdly safe, almost comfortable in a strange way. We all knew the rules and what to expect from each other.
“Like I said, this pretty much kills any chance you have to go higher in the Jacks,” Burke continued. “So you’ll stay in Portland. At some point I’d like to see a true chapter started there, assuming we can get the Reapers to sign off on it. Deke’s still pretty pissed at us over his niece, and I’m sure the Toke situation didn’t help things. That happens, you’ll have another shot at leadership. Until then, I’ll still expect you to be available for delicate assignments. You’ll have to get a regular job, though. I’ll make sure you still get a bounty when it’s warranted, but the others won’t tolerate a man on payroll who’s sleeping with the enemy. And they’re still the enemy, at least in most minds. We clear?”
I thought about Em and nodded. She was worth the sacrifice—assuming things worked out. Shit . . . This was happening too fast. Something must have crossed my face, because Burke paused.
“How sure are you of this girl?” he asked.
I considered the question, reluctant to answer. Would’ve been nice to pin Em down, spend a little more time together first . . .
“Not as sure as I’d like,” I admitted finally. “I mean, we don’t have anything arranged formally, and her dad hates me. All her people do. But she stood up for me last night, so that’s something—even told her father we were together. That means I’ve got a shot, and God hates a coward.”
Burke snorted.
“You’re an idiot,” he said flatly. “Believe it or not, I can understand giving things up for a woman. I really can. But giving away everything for a girl you barely know? I’m saying this as someone who cares about you—you’re a f**kwit. You’re lucky I need you to convince the others the Reapers aren’t behind this attack. We don’t save this truce, the cartel’s already won.”
“Hope they listen,” I murmured.
“Won’t hurt that you’re throwing everything away to tell them,” Burke said offhandedly. “Of course, your judgment is obviously f**ked, so it balances out.”
I shrugged.
“Can I ask a question?” I said. Burke was the closest thing I had to a father, but I was all too aware that I didn’t really know him at all.
“You can ask,” he said.
“If it wasn’t for what happened last night—if you didn’t need me to convince the club it wasn’t the Reapers—would you still let me have her?”
Burke laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in his voice.
“Romeo and Juliet died, son. Consider that all the answer you need.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EM
Kit finally called at four in the morning.