Heart Ties (Club Ties Book 2) by Em Petrova Page A

seemed to need verification of his position.
    Jamison stood quickly, sending his chair sailing backward. He met Drake’s gaze. “I’m done with church. Drake, come with me.”
    Strother watched them leave the room with a scowl. Jamison gripped Drake’s shoulder and led them outside. The bikes gleamed in the morning sun. Harris, who was standing guard, turned and walked halfway across the parking lot to give them privacy.
    Jamison’s mouth was tense. “That fucking man knows more than he’s telling us.”
    “Agreed.”
    “His skin isn’t in the club anymore. It’s with his family—and that’s fine. But we need to take him down and get his patch.” Jamison’s voice was low and urgent. Incensed.
    “He can’t stay. We’ve put up with his shit because of his son and then Trina, but it can’t go on. You’re our leader now.”
    Jamison nodded and clapped Drake on the back. “I knew you’d be on my side, especially with Delta in the picture.”
    Drake blinked. “What’s this gotta do with Delta?” He didn’t want to think about the way his chest tightened at mention of her name.
    “Strother doesn’t want Ever in the club, and Delta would be targeted too. But we both know that woman belongs here.” He pointed at the ground—the soil where the Hell’s Sons lived and breathed their brotherhood.
    She did belong here.
    “What’s the plan?” Drake was ready to snipe the fucking prez if necessary. He was bad blood among them.
    Jamison pushed his fingers through his hair. “We can’t let him know about the money. You get on that—track down the gamblers and see where that cash is coming from. It might not be counterfeit, but I think you’re right to be suspicious of such a large sum. And if it’s fake, the player is cheating the club.”
    Yeah, a bad end for him.
    “I’m on it.”
    “Good.”
    “What about the Rx and the Raiders?”
    Jamison clenched his fist, and hectic color crept up his throat. “I have a feeling Strother will take it upon himself to look into that. I’ll have Bunky keep a close watch on him. Bunky’s on our side.”
    When did they draw lines in the club? Shit, this wasn’t good at all. Drake had to put their rightful commander in control. Strother had led them into war, and for his personal gain. Jamison needed to keep them peaceful and profitable.
    “Let me know if you need anything from me on that.”
    “Glad to depend on you, brother.” They man-hugged, thumping each other’s backs. When they released, Jamison looked at him hard. “Anything on Delta?”
    “Saw her last night. Tonight I’m going in.”
    Jamison shook his head. “No, man. Not alone.”
    “It’s the only way. They won’t detect me. I’ve got it covered, bro.”
    “The Raiders have a lot to lose. You won’t get in easily.”
    “I’ve gotten into tight spots a few times in the past. I know what I’m doing.”
    Jamison pushed out a breath and nodded. “I’ll leave it to you then.” He clapped Drake’s back once more and started back to the door. As he passed a bike, he touched the handlebar of Harris’s ride.
    “Hey Harris!”
    The man turned.
    “Put some better ape hangers and classic saddle bags on this bike and you’ll triple the value.”
    Harris tipped his head then nodded. “I might do that. Thanks, boss.”
    Jamison went inside, leaving Drake to make his plans. Maybe it was best he’d only downed half a bottle of 12-malt. He needed his wits to figure out this gambling mess. And there were a few preparations he needed to make before going after Delta tonight.
    •●•
    The Raiders MC was unusually quiet today. Most likely because the guys had made a run for the coast after the weapons. Guns came into Canada and made their way south through the country or they came in by boat. The feds were cracking down on their trade with Mexico, and the Raiders had realized Canada was their future. A lot of the Canadian arms were sold in New York City, but they got enough here to make the