Man of the House(150)

“I’ve been discussing solutions to our problem with the council, and they suggested something that I am not in favor of, but it’s something that can work.”

“And this something involves me?”

He nodded. “Exactly. We need the Rebels as allies. We need their extra strength if we’re going to take on both the Snakes and the Mezcals.”

“How can I help? You know I’d do anything for the club,” I said.

He made a pained face. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth. You’ve never asked a thing of me, but I’ve gotten so much from you all.”

“Please,” he said, holding his hands up, “stop. Listen to me.” He put his cigar out. “The leader of the Rebels, his name is Jetter. You know this story?”

“Sure. Everyone does.”

“Well, we want you to marry him.”

I sat back in my chair, shocked. “Are you serious?”

“We want to patch over the Rebels, make them a part of the Demons, but Jetter doesn’t trust us, and for good reason. He said only an important marriage could bring him back into our family.”

I gaped at him, at a total loss for words.

Jetter was notorious in the Demons. He had been one of the earliest members of the Demons, back when the club was small. Back then, the Rebels were run by a different guy. The Rebels and the Demons were rivals back then. Through some strange circumstances, Jetter ended up killing the old leader of the Rebels and taking his place as the president of the Rebels, betraying the Demons in the process.

He was a traitor and one of the most hated men in the club. And now my father, my protector, was asking me to marry him.

“Forgetting for a second that I’m not a piece of cattle,” I said, “why would you let me marry a scumbag like that?”

He sighed. “I don’t want this, Janine, but you’re the only one he’ll consider.”

“It’s his idea,” I said softly.

“Yes, it is.”

I couldn’t believe it. My father wanted me to marry a traitor and a piece of shit, all to get that man’s power on his side. Sure, the Rebels would effectively become the Demons and get patched over, but the price was going to be my freedom.

“You don’t have to answer now,” Dad said, “but understand this: If you say yes, it won’t be forever.”

I cocked my head at that. “Marriage seems like forever,” I said.

“It doesn’t always have to be,” he said. “Widows remarry all the time.”

I sat back, completely shocked. My father was now suggesting that I marry this man and eventually get him murdered.

I would do anything for the Demons. I would make almost any sacrifice.

But this, it was just so much. It was my freedom, my future, and eventually there would be blood on my hands. I’d never killed a man or even so much as caused someone to get hurt, let alone directly led to the death of my husband.

“What if I say no?” I asked.

“Then we forget it. We’ll find another way.” He leaned forward. “Janine, I don’t want this for you. I want you to say no. But if you say yes, I need you to know that I support you completely.”

I understood then. If I said yes, Larkin would murder Jetter as soon as the Rebels were patched over.

I shook my head. “This is a lot,” I said.

“I know. I hate that we’re using marriage so much lately. First Caralee and now you.”

“Could this really work?”

“I hate to say it, but it would. With the Rebels patched over, we’d be strong enough to win this war once and for all.”

I chewed my lip, taking that in. If we could end this war, that would mean no more Demons members dying, no more blood.

If I said no, and the war continued, would every dead member from here on out be my fault? I could do something about this war, really make a difference.

All I had to do was marry one of the most loathsome men in the whole area.

I stood up, head reeling. “This is why you have Clutch protecting me,” I said, “just in case the Snakes or the Mezcals hear about it.”

He nodded. “To be safe, yeah. I can’t see how they would, though.”

I nodded to myself. “I have to think about it.”

“Of course.” He shook his head, his face clearly pained. “I hate asking this of you.”

“I know, Dad.” I turned. “I’ll see you later.”

I left the office before he could say another word.

I could barely think straight as I left my father’s office and walked directly toward the bar. I stopped at the end and waved at TomTom. “Whisky,” I said. “Neat.”

He returned with a glass and I slammed it back.