Chapter Five

“You serious?” Nell scowled at him. “You’re the money guy, Silver, the guy who literally counts the goddamn silver. You think that doesn’t matter? You think the club doesn’t need someone honest and smart keeping track of the bank accounts and expenses?”

“Oh, we do, for sure. I’m not saying that it’s not an important job. It’s just not a super-glamorous one.”

“You mean like being an Enforcer?” Nell snapped. “Would that float your boat a bit better, tough guy? Beating the shit out of people who have pissed off your Prez? Doing worse to them if they’ve really pissed him off?”

“Hell, no,” Silver replied, stung. “I haven’t got the temperament for that. Or the stomach. Ice, Cain, and the twins have got that shit covered anyway, and I’m not even remotely interested in joining their Enforcer team, even in its more watered-down current version. But I guess… I don’t know. I don’t think of monthly club reports as all that much fun, is all. I mean, I already do endless paperwork for the garage, and now I have to add in time for Satan’s Bar and for Blue Dragon Ink once the parlour is rebuilt and up and running again. Plus any dues, or repair expenses on motorcycles, all that stuff. I guess I’m just realizing that it’s a lot. And honestly, Nell, I don’t have a ton of formal accounting experience. Thank Christ Wolf is looking for a new in-house accountant right now, because I need all the help that I can get.”

“If you have an accountant, then what would your job actually be?”

“Mostly collecting all documents from Zoe for Blue Dragon, and Scars for Satan’s, and adding my own from The Garage, then kind of getting it all ready for the accountant. Centralize it all, I guess, and get any missing pieces that they ask for. Handle all the expense reports for them to check, help with tax stuff and payroll stuff. Mostly be support and a bit of a flunkie and extra set of hands – and I’m cool with all of that. I can’t handle the serious stuff and don’t want to learn anyway. I’ve got no interest in being an accountant. I’m collecting mountains of paperwork right now but have no idea what a lot of it means.”

“Who was your Treasurer before?”

“Beams.”

“OK. Well… why can’t he train you and help you out until the new hire? Where’d he go?”

“Fucked off last week to join Dawson and his asshole Blood Crew.”

“No.” Nell was appalled. “Another defector?”

“Yep. Beams makes it a grand total of thirteen guys who have left The Road Devils. Well, fourteen if you count The Blood Crew President, Dawson Kinney himself, the guy to start the splinter group and recruit his ex-Road Devils brothers.”

“I still can’t believe that Dawson did that. Nobody just walks away from an MC, and they sure as hell don’t start a rival club.”

“Kinney did.”

“Yeah. But he’s a prick.”

“No argument from me.”

“Silver?” Nell sounded oddly tentative. “Question?”

“Yeah. Shoot.”

“How come Wolf hasn’t kicked Dawson’s ass to the other side of the goddamn planet? I think that if any of my Gunner’s boys had done what Dawson and his new MC have done – broken faith, lied to their brothers, started a new club, picked up all their former MC’s contracts – then Gunner would have had his MC riot and rampage until the streets ran with blood. Wolf Connor is no shrinking violet, and he’s sure as hell no angel… no way he’d have a major problem taking a life or two, if it came to that. So – why hasn’t he made a statement that way?”

Silver levelled her with a look and Nell blinked. The man had the most incredible eyes that she’d ever seen in a human face, like pure moonlight rippling on water, or a gently rolling Irish mist with flashes of sunlight, and his name was well-deserved. Nell had never known that eyes that color actually existed on earth, not until she met Silver Bennett.

Those eyes weren’t light and bright now, though. No, they were cold and hard, like gunmetal or slate. They were the gray of the deepest, darkest northern winter… and despite being a woman not afraid of much, Nell shivered. She’d never before seen Wolf Connor’s fierce, ferocious gray wolf-eyes staring back at her from under Silver’s golden hair… but here they were.

It was a side to Silver that Nell knew had to exist. After all, he was a full member of an ex-one-percenter MC, which meant that he’d done bad, awful things, but she’d never seen even a glimmer of it.

She saw it now, though.

Shit. Pushed it too far.

“You saying that my President is a fucking wimp, Nell?” Silver asked softly. “You actually calling Wolf Connor a pussy? Saying that by letting things go with Dawson since he left, Wolf has shown weakness?”

“No –”

“Anyone else think this too?” Silver looked over at the far corner of the room, where about ten members of The Howling Highwaymen MC were standing. The Road Devils had always been on good terms with those guys, but if they were running down his President, Silver was ready to call them out on it and he’d do it here and now, to hell with being outnumbered. “People talking about Wolf losing his edge?”