"Lucy and Jasmine are at my place." I look at Whip. "Something is up, I'm not sure what because Luce didn't tell me over the phone, but she sounded off. She told me to get there. She thinks Jasmine's husband is screwing with them."
Whip stands, leaning across the table, eyes on Pres.
"If the asshole knows that's Cutter's place, I need to get Lucy out of there."
The room goes quiet. Against my better judgment, I shoot Pres a look. I haven't got time for this shit.
"Everyone else out!" Pres bangs his fist on the table, his words grating through his teeth. There's no pause. Everyone except Pres, Whip, and me leave the room.
He looks over at Whip. "You, too. He'll be there in a minute."
The door slams. "You have to-"
Pres is across the room in a second, his finger in my face. "I don't have to do shit. We have fucking rules, and they have been around longer than your ass, Cutter. Girls get protection and backing if they are club property. Just because you feel fucking bad for the girl don't make her an exception."
He turns and takes his seat at the head of the table. "Wrench isn't looking into the husband, and there will be no prospect watching over her. You got a problem with the by-laws, I don't know what to tell you, 'cause they ain't changing."
A thousand thoughts are running through my mind. If the asshole knows where my place is then this could get really bad, really fast, and as fired up as I am, having my brothers at my back would make this so much easier. But Pres is right-my concerns don't mean shit while Jasmine is just an employee. When you claim a girl she's tied to you for life. Am I willing to do that? Tie myself to a woman who I'm not even sure will want me once she's better? Hell, I'm not even fucking sure that it would work between us.
He'll get to her.
With one hand on the door, I turn to Pres. "I'm fucking claiming her."
I open the door and slam it shut behind me. I very well could have just permanently screwed myself, but if it means Jasmine will be safe and have a chance to get herself free from this asshole, it'll be worth it. Her life is more important than anything else. I might be shooting myself in the goddamn foot, but I don't give a shit right now.
I start jogging down the hall.
"Cutter!" Whip catches up to me but I don't stop. I just head out front to my bike.
Out of the corner of my eye I see him swing a leg over his Harley, the roar from the engine merging with mine, obliterating the silence of the street. Mile by mile, our tires eat up the distance between the clubhouse and my place.
My bike is barely parked when I hop off, racing up the steps. I throw open my door stopping when a pungent smell fills my lungs, making me thankful I haven't had a chance to grab lunch yet.
I cover my mouth with my T-shirt. "What the fuck is that?"
Lucy and Jasmine come out of the hallway, their faces wracked with fear. "I ordered food," Lucy says as she walks over to Whip, wrapping her arms around him, tucking her head under his arm. "It's the same place I always order from. The guy dropped it off and I didn't smell it at first. Then I opened the bag and pulled out the container and there it was." She nods to the bag.
"Go stand with Jasmine, babe," Whip says after placing a kiss on her mouth.
Lucy nods. I look at Whip and flip open the lid of the container. Staring up at me is the head of what seems to be a small pig, lipstick smeared across its snout. A small piece of paper pokes out of the mouth. I use a pen to open the mouth and retrieve the bloodied note.
You can't hide forever.
"Fuckin' sick asshole."
A sharp scream pierces the air. I turn, looking over Whip's shoulder to see Jasmine's hand is over her mouth. She turns and runs down the hallway. Lucy appears in the doorway. "I'm sorry," she says, before racing after Jasmine, and I'm glad she has because as much as I want to make sure she's okay, I need to handle shit.
Whip takes the note from me, turning it over. There's nothing else on it.
"Call the restaurant and find their driver. I need to know how this happened. I'm calling Wrench. We need to find this fucker."
"Thought Pres said-"
"Yeah, well, I fucking claimed her. She's club property now."
The last thing I need right now is to be fucking questioned. I just want to stop this before it gets any worse. I pull out my phone and dial Wrench's number.
"I was expecting your call sooner." He laughs, but from where I'm standing there's fuck all funny about this.
"I need him found yesterday."