Heart Ties (Club Ties Book 2) by Em Petrova

Jamison sat back and scraped his fingers through his hair.
    The door exploded inward and bashed off the wall.
    Seven guys jumped to their feet, weapons in hand. Copilot snarled. Strother held his arms out to his side. He’d lost weight since his son died from a drug overdose and his old lady lost her shit. His cut hung on him. “Getting a little jumpy, are we?”
    The guys lowered their weapons, and Strother strode across the room. He shoved Jamison out of the head chair and sank into it. “I’m back.”
    “So we see.”
    “Welcome back, boss,” Rocket said.
    Jamison didn’t look a bit happy to see the man. Drake couldn’t blame him. If someone had put his woman in danger for his own ends, the asshole would be in a shallow grave.
    Jamison’s jaw worked, then he slowly sank to his old chair. He chin-nodded at the door. “Close it so the women can’t hear.”
    “I’d be more worried about that new prospect. He’s never getting my vote for a patch-in.” O’Dovey’s eyes were narrowed and his face mottled red.
    “You only hate him because he likes Sarah.”
    “Shut the fuck up.”
    Drake walked to the door and shut it again. His head was starting to clear too much without his Scotch to put up with this bullshit. Once he’d sat down again, Strother smacked his palm off the table.
    “I heard about the break-in.”
    Jamison eyed him. “How did you hear about it so quickly? Rafe just called me.”
    “He called me first. I’m still the prez here, in case you forgot about this.” He tapped his patch and stared at them.
    “No, boss.”
    “Of course not, man.”
    Jamison remained silent.
    “Whoever got into that back room knew what the fuck he was doing,” Strother said.
    “That’s obvious. What the hell did he want is the question,” Jamison said.
    “The place wasn’t busted up, but some gambling money had been left there. It was taken.”
    “Shit.” Jamison’s shoulders tensed and he threw Drake a look. They were both thinking the same thing—that hundred dollar bill had looked odd. He’d mentioned having Ace check it out to see if it was counterfeit.
    If someone had stolen counterfeit money, the Hell’s Sons would be in hella-trouble for more than gambling.
    “There’s more.” Strother’s announcement silenced the room.
    “Say it,” Jamison gritted out.
    “The Raiders are dealing Rx in Marianne Pass.”
    Drake didn’t look at Jamison. No one but the two of them knew about the intel Drake had shared.
    “How do you know this?” Jamison asked.
    Strother flattened his hands on the table. Big hands that had done a lot for the club in the past years, but lately he hadn’t been a leader. And there was the not-so-small fact he’d gone against their creed by putting a woman in danger. He’d sent Ever into the Raiders, her only protection a microchip in her arm so she’d show up on a screen.
    There wasn’t a man among them who would easily forgive that.
    “I’ve had some guys watching the Raiders since our fight. Not only are they dealing in guns, drugs, and pussy, but they’re infringing on our profits.”
    “Do you think they’re responsible for the break-in too?” Bunky asked.
    Strother shrugged as if trying to ease an itch. “I’m going to find out.”
    “What do you need from us?” Rocket looked a little too eager to help a man who had fucked things up in the past few weeks. Drake leveled his gaze at Rocket. He lowered his attention to his hands.
    “I need guys on the streets. We put two on the Raiders turf, and we take turns at The Gearhead and Tomfoolery.”
    A good move, but it meant only a few men were at the MC protecting their own. Jamison seemed to agree. He gestured to Bunky. “Call everyone. Get them here this afternoon to be assigned their posts. We need the extra men.”
    “Done.”
    Strother turned his head slowly to glare at Jamison. Drake waited for the chemical to mix with the spark. Jamison’s job was to give orders and protect the club, but their prez