“Over my dead body,” I replied.
He arched an eyebrow.
“That can be arranged.”
Then he was gone. I waited until I heard the door close behind me before I finally sank onto the foot of my bed with a shaky breath of relief.
Chapter seven
Pretty Boy
The next morning, Lila was curled up in one of the booths at the clubhouse with a hangover. She wore an oversized hoodie that I suspected belonged to her dad, with a tiny pair of tight pink shorts that drove me to distraction. Her glossy black hair was twisted up in a messy bun. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her without makeup like this—no lipstick, no mascara, no eye liner. Nothing but a bit of chapstick as she nursed a cup of coffee, looking like she hadn’t slept all night.
It boiled my blood that Sweeney was in her apartment, waiting for her. I was supposed to protect her from this. I was supposed to be her shield so no one could get to her.
As soon as she told me what happened, I called an emergency meeting in Chapel.
Everyone filed into the meeting room now, with shuffling footsteps and scraping chairs as they took a seat. It felt strange to be in Hillbilly’s position at the head of the table, with his gavel before me. And everyone was looking in my direction, waiting for me to lead them.
My stomach twisted and I swallowed around the knot in my throat. Would this ever get easier? On one hand, I knew it was an honor to be given this responsibility. And on the other hand, it was daunting to have the whole club hanging on my word, my order.
“This business with Sweeney might get bloody, boys,” I said. “If you need to back out because of your kids, wives, girlfriends, now is your chance. We won’t hold it against you.”
No one said anything. A few men shifted in their seats. Ironside cleared his throat to speak.
“What does our financial situation look like?”
I shook my head. The club had a joint account that everyone had access to for emergencies like this one. And we kept a chunk of cash on hand in the safe in the office here at the clubhouse.
But I’d crunched the numbers already and we would still come up short.
“If we used every penny we had,” I said. “We might be able to cover half of Hillbilly’s debt. If we’re lucky.”
“Would that buy us some time at least?” Psycho suggested. “Maybe we could talk Sweeney into an extension.”
“We’re not talking about a bank, kid,” Hades said. “This is the Irish mafia. He tried to gut Hillbilly like a fish for telling a bad joke about him, claiming it damaged his reputation.”
“Then we’ll fight back,” Bruiser said, curling his hands into meaty fists.
I didn’t mind the rush of a physical altercation once in a while, especially after Sweeney kept threatening Lila. I would have gladly knocked out a few of his teeth for that alone.
It didn’t demonstrate good leadership though. Jumping straight into violence was a lazy solution. I wanted to keep my people safe, not put them in harm’s way if I had a choice.
“We are not fighting unless we have to,” I said.
“But there isn’t enough time to put together a fundraiser,” Ironside pointed out. “We can’t come up with that kind of money on such short notice.”
“I’ve got a car in my garage that’s just gathering dust,” Recoil offered. “I was going to strip it for parts anyway. It probably wouldn’t be much, but it’s something.”
“I picked up a thousand bucks at a fight last weekend,” Brass said. “It might not make a dent, but I’m happy to pitch in what I can.”
I held up a hand to quiet them.
“I appreciate the suggestions. But I’ve got it covered. I called in a favor from a friend. He owes me. I’ve crunched the numbers and I think this will cover it, along with a portion of the club’s savings. Then Hillbilly and Lila are free and clear. Does anyone have a problem with that?”
No one said anything. A few members exchanged glances with a shrug.
“That’s fine with us, Prez,” Viper said.