"That definitely sounds like Keebler," Hot Wheels said under her breath.
"Maybe, but we don't have proof, so … " Joel trailed off rubbing his hand over his mouth as he thought.
"So, what? Where does that leave us, then?" Carla asked, finishing his sentence, "What do we do now? We need to do something."
"I … agree with Carla," Hot Wheels said slowly, in obvious pain at the admission but then shrugged good naturedly, "When you're right, you're right. And this time she is. We have to do something about this, otherwise it's only going to get worse. And not just with the other crews. We need to do something about the Cruisers too, Joel. Otherwise, you're going to lose them."
Joel was silent for a tense moment and three pairs of eyes watched him, waiting to see what he'd say next. Finally, he gave one firm nod, his expression resigned.
"Alright. Then we do something. We'll start brainstorming. Hot Wheels, you call everybody in that you can. Everybody that's still one hundred percent loyal."
Hot Wheels gave another pained look, but Elle could tell it was for a different reason. She nodded her head slowly before pulling out her phone and turning away. Joel pulled a chair up the desk, using it as a makeshift table, and waved for Elle and Carla to join him.
"Okay, so here are our options … "
***
Honey looked around the small office and the even smaller group of people meeting inside it. Carla and Joel were talking low and quiet about something, their heads bent together, and Hot Wheels was standing against one wall next to Tucker. She kept casting thoughtful stares at Carla and he wondered why for a moment, but then his attention was diverted once again by the woman sitting by herself in the padded armchair. Elle.
He'd been the last to arrive about ten minutes earlier and, in that time, his gaze had been drawn back to her again and again despite his best intentions. She hadn't said a word to him, her only acknowledgment of his presence was the slight widening of her sweet, dark eyes and the blush that had turned her cheeks a rosy pink. He wasn't even sure she was aware of the blush, but he certainly was. Oh hell, was he.
It made him wonder if she was thinking about that kiss from earlier, the way she'd melted against him. Just exactly like she had melted against him that one amazing, far too short night all those months ago. And then he was wondering if she was thinking of that night too and his mind would trip over itself all over again.
He would have laughed at himself if he wasn't in so much pain. Honey shifted, for the hundredth time, moving a little closer behind the desk as his body tightened uncontrollably at the memory of her. Of her touch. Of her taste. Knock it the fuck off, he mentally shouted at his wayward thoughts. Concentrate, man.
"Alright, I guess that's everyone, then," Joel finally said, breaking the silence as he stood. He cast a look at Hot Wheels and she just shrugged.
"You said one hundred percent, sugar. You don't got many of those left."
"I can see that," and he didn't sound happy about that fact, Honey thought. He had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about, but didn't say anything else as the group converged around the desk. He had to stop himself from breathing deep as Elle stepped closer, making sure that Tucker was standing in between them.
"What are we doing here, Joel?" the placid man asked. He looked like a giant, but he was as gentle as a church mouse. Well, as long as you didn't get in the way of those massive fists of his.
"We need to make a plan," Joel started with a sigh, "Elle found some stranger poking around the farm and luckily chased him off but things are … escalating."
At Joel's words, Honey sent a surprised look towards Elle. In her prim, ankle length sky blue dress and yellow cardigan she didn't look like she could chase off a fly let alone a biker. Sudden worry for her shot through him. He hated the fact that she kept getting pulled into the middle of the Cruisers's problems. She was so clean, so pure. She didn't deserve to be put in danger like that.
It was all too easy for Honey to imagine what could have happened if things had gone wrong, if she had confronted a biker who didn't take no for an answer, and didn't get scared off as easily. Damn it. She had to be more careful. First, earlier at the clubhouse, and now this. She was going to get herself hurt.
He'd been so caught up in his own thoughts that he'd missed part of Joel's speech.
" … so this is how it's going to go down. Hot Wheels is already working with the Nomads, and other local crews. Honey and Tucker, you're with her. Whatever she needs, get it done."
"What about you?" Honey asked, trying to pull his mind back to the matter at hand.
"Elle, Carla, and I came up with an idea to work within the Cruisers. To try and mend some bridges so to speak. It's just a stop gap, but hopefully it will buy us some time."
"And what is that?"
"A party." It was the first time Elle had spoken, and the sound of her voice sparked through him like an electric charge.
"A party?" Tucker sneered, or as much of a sneer as his calm expression would allow. But the more Honey thought about it, the better of an idea it was.
"No, it's good. It might just work," he interrupted before anyone else could do so, "It will give the crew a chance to see Joel, and he can say it's off the profits from the farm as an added incentive. It will get some of them thinking that maybe it's not such a bad gig after all."
"Good thinking, Honey."
"It's not permanent, though," Honey added reluctantly, and Joel sighed.
"I know. But it's all we got for the moment. Keep at it. Let me know if you think of anything. Carla and I are headed back to the clubhouse now to start getting things organized and hopefully put a stop to some of the rumors going around."
With that, the meeting was over. There was a brief flurry of activity as everyone readied to go their separate ways and Honey took the opportunity to pull Elle a little away from everyone else.
She stood stiff for a moment before looking up at him, a wariness in her gaze that he hated.
"What is it, Honey?" she asked with a sigh.
"I just … I don't know how to say it," he started and she snorted.
"Really, you? At a loss for words? I never thought I'd see the day."
"No, I know what I want to say. I just don't know how to say it without you getting pissed off."
"Well then, don't say it," Elle started to turn around and leave but he stopped her with the barest touch on her arm. He felt it like a wildfire, burning him.
"I have to," he took a deep breath, and then just let it all spill out, "I think you should leave this alone. I think you should stay out of it. It isn't your fight, Elle. And it's not safe. You could have been hurt today. That biker, the one who was sneaking around, he could have – "
"Well, he didn't. And I wasn't. And it's none of your business," she bit off the words angrily, "You may not understand this, but I made a promise. I gave my word and that means something to me, even it doesn't to you."
Without another word, Elle turned on her heel and stormed out of the office. Honey groaned, sweeping a hand over his face. He knew it was going to piss her off. He'd known it and he couldn't just keep his mouth shut. Because he'd made a promise as well. To himself. A promise to keep her safe, to look after her. Because someone had to and she sure as hell wasn't doing it.
He glanced over and noticed Hot Wheels's look of commiseration, sympathy shining in her pale green eyes. He squeezed his own shut tight before shoving through the door. Well, that definitely could have gone better, he thought to himself angrily. A whole fucking lot better.
Chapter 9
Elle paced restlessly through her living room. It had taken three days to get everything ready for the massive party tonight at the clubhouse. Three days for her to spend thinking about it, dreading it, her anxiety growing over every passing minute, every passing second until she felt like one big ball of pounding nausea and suffocating claustrophobia.
She'd already tried to call Carla, twice. Both times to convince her that she couldn't make it for one reason or another. It had only made it worse when her friend had listened patiently, her voice full of sympathy when she asked for her promise. Not to come, but just to try her hardest to make it.
Elle knew that she had her own part to play in their plan to mend the rift that had begun to crack the Dirty Cruisers in half, and the guilt that swirled through her at breaking her promise only added to the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. And no matter what she did, it wouldn't go away. She had a sinking thought that only going to the damned party, only not breaking her promise, would ease it.