Reprisal (Tidals & Anchors MC 2) - Page 13

I smiled at her. She was getting more impressive as the days went on and I was seriously thinking of bumping her up to VP.

“That’s Dallas Quinn; Pardon’s son. I knew that I had to do something to save us and back us out of this fucking mess, so I thought if I found him and brought him here it might help. I didn’t realize that it would get such a psychotic reaction of out of this one,” I explained, jerking my head toward Swing.

He turned quickly and gave me the deadliest stare. For a very brief moment, I seriously saw my life flash before my eyes, but remembering that Tumbler was ready to shoot to kill; I collected my nerves and propped my legs up onto the desk.

“I’m done,” I added, resting my hands on the arms of the chair.

“I don’t know you, but I have a feeling you had better go next,” Tumbler said, nodding at Dallas.

He stepped into the room and got as close to Swing as he dared, making sure there was enough space, just in case.

“Brother, I know what this looks like. I know what you have to be feeling right now, but I didn’t have shit to do with this. Not anyone here with me did,” he said waving some other members of their club in. “I never set you up, Swing. I’ve been trying to help you from the beginning, but Pardon had it figured out. I don’t know how, but he did and it set me up to look like I was trying to have you killed. I love you, man. You know I wouldn’t do this to you,” he said, spreading his hands out as he talked. It almost looked like he was begging Swing to believe him and it really made me eager to see what his response would be.

Swing finally sat on the edge of the desk, drumming his fingers along the top of it. I could tell he was a ticking time bomb just waiting for the moment he could explode, but something was keeping him in check.

I think his enraged silence and the way he stared at Dallas, was worse than anything he could possibly say. I exchanged a glance with Tumbler who was sitting on the arm of the couch, now gun in hand, waiting for Swing to say something. Anything.

When he finally spoke, I think the entire room to collective deep breath and listened carefully.

“Why should I believe you? When push comes to shove, and I get my chance to put Pardon down, how do I know you won’t step in to keep him alive?” Swing asked. His voice shook and I knew it was because he was trying so desperately to control the rage he was feeling.

“You don’t. But with the position we put ourselves in, pretty much spitting in Pardon’s face to get you out of Bend to begin with, I was hoping you’d be willing to go on a little faith here,” Dallas replied, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

Swing’s tension didn’t let up. His body was radiating his want to tear Dallas apart, but he was holding himself back. Probably waiting until he knew for sure, but I only figured that because it was what I would do.

“Listen, we gotta go. I followed her 'cause I had a hunch that it was you when she said she had something I wanted. There’s a Havoc vote and Pardon needs everyone there. I’ll come back once it’s over, alright?” Dallas said, tiredly.

I was staring at Swing’s back since that was what was presented to me. He seemed to ease up a little on the anger when Dallas said he would be back. It was obvious that these two men loved each other like brothers, but would that stop either of them from doing what would ultimately need to be done in the end? I’d find out soon enough.

Eleven

Swing

I was fucking furious when Dallas left. Furious

that he was brought here, furious that Alaska thought showing Pardon’s son where I was a good idea, and furious at myself for not putting a bullet through his fucking skull.

“Get out,” I said to Tumbler, rubbing my chin irritably.

“Alaska?” she asked, glancing at her. I turned around in time to see Alaska nod to her. She wasn’t afraid of me and that was about to fucking change, but I couldn’t have the trigger happy kid ready to shoot me the moment I lost my shit.

I held myself together as she eyed me wearily. After letting out a sigh, she put her gun in the waistband of her jeans and finally left the room. I had moved myself so that my back was to Alaska again and I was drumming my fingers along the desk. I needed to figure out how to say what I needed to say without her dismissing how serious of a fuck up she had just made.

When my fingers started to go numb, I stopped the drumming and ran a hand over my face. I was never any good at being nice about things when I was pissed off so I just needed to say what I had to say and hear her out. It was the best thing to do.

“Alaska—”

“Save it, Swing,” she said, cutting me off immediately. I could feel my face getting hot; nothing made me angrier than being cut off when I was speaking. “I did what I thought was right. That pretty boy and his band of heroes seem to have good intentions when it comes to you and I thought we could use the back up.”

I turned myself sideways, so I could prop one leg up on the desk and I stared at her. My rule of no women and no children was about to go flying out the fucking window again.

“You know that’s Pardon’s fucking son, right? You think he’ll switch his loyalty from his own father to me just because you said so?” I asked incredulously.

Alaska shook her head and dropped her legs off of her desk. She crossed her arms on the wooden top and leaned toward me.

“You seem to forget that I hold rank over him. While I may not be in your precious little club, I’m still an MC President. He’ll listen to me or he’ll get what’s coming to him,” she said with a dangerous smile.

I shook my head. She didn’t get it; it wouldn’t matter who she was to Pardon or any of the brothers in the club. The only thing that any of his loyal members would see is that she was against him and that was putting a huge target on her back.

Tags: Yolanda Olson Tidals & Anchors MC Romance
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