Gypsy king

Even though I’d sat in the head chair for years, I’d never had that kind of commanding presence. I’d worried about it for a while, wondered if I’d be revered like Dad. Maybe it would have come, in time. But we’d already begun to shut things down when I’d been voted in as president. My job hadn’t been to lead the Gypsies into the future. I was the president who’d made sure we’d covered all our asses so we could live a normal life.

“What are we going to do about the Warriors?” I asked, leaning my elbows on the table. “Tucker lied to us.”

“Or he didn’t know,” Dad countered. “Yeah, there’s a chance he ordered this. Or he’s as clueless as we are and it’s someone’s personal vendetta. Someone who’s been following me around, saw me with a woman for the first time in decades and used it as their opening to strike.”

“For what?” Bryce asked.

Dad scoffed. “Hell. A million things.”

“A million and a half,” I muttered.

We’d burned down their clubhouse once. It had likely cost them a fortune to rebuild. The two Warriors who’d tried to kidnap Emmeline had been Dad’s guests in the basement, their last breaths taken inside those concrete walls.

“What do we do?” Emmett sighed. “Go after them? Start up another war?”

“We’ll lose,” I said. “There’s no chance at wi

“I don’t want a war. Not this time.” Dad shook his head. “First, I’ll go to Tucker, show him the photo and see what he does. Maybe he’ll give us a name and it can end. But if it comes down to it, if he covers for his men—which I suspect he will—then I’ll take the fall for Amina.”

“They’ll put you away for life.” Yesterday, I was okay with it—when I was furious and in a rage. Today, now that I’d calmed down, the idea of him in prison didn’t sit as well.

“I’ll go if that’s what it takes to keep you and Nick free of this.”

“Except they could be after any of us,” Emmett said. “This might have started with you, but I bet it goes deeper. I’m not looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I know we’re up against bad odds, but we have to fight back.”

“Why not do it legally?” Bryce suggested. “Let’s get the evidence to prove there’s reasonable doubt. We can use the paper to print it, create a circus around town. Get rumors started that Draven is i

“You’re talking about following the rules.” Dad barked a laugh. “We’re not great at working with the cops.”

“You’re also not great at keeping the people in your life alive by breaking the rules, so maybe it’s time to try a different approach.”

Damn, woman. She wasn’t pulling any punches. I flinched at her words. Emmett did too. Because no one talked to Dad like that, especially in this room.

But she was fearless. The fire in her eyes, that blaze, made my chest swell. Was it with pride? Or love? Both?

I think I’d fallen for her the night she’d kicked me off her front porch. Or maybe it was the day she’d shown up at the garage, bursting with attitude and determination.

“She’s right,” I told Dad. “Not just because it’s legal, but because the Warriors will never expect it. Let’s use the cops to our favor for once.”

Emmett nodded. “If Tucker did know about this, then he’s waiting and watching for us to retaliate. The cops showing up at his door might be a surprise.”

“We need to find evidence, solid evidence, and fast,” I said. “The state’s attorney will set a trial date soon, and once that starts, it’s going to be even harder to get people to consider another suspect. We need them to delay.”

“What do we do?” Dad asked.

I looked to Bryce. “You need to write a story. Marcus is a good cop, but he’s not going to believe me if I walk in there with new evidence. Not when his mind’s made up that Dad is guilty. We need to plant the seed that Dad’s knife was stolen. Show the picture of someone breaking into the clubhouse. Marcus won’t be able to ignore it if you print it.”

“I’ll start on it today. We can feature it on Sunday. But . . .” She locked eyes with Dad across the table. “It would mean more if I could print the reason you and Amina were in the motel. It makes you more human if people know you were there to discuss your daughter.”

Dad blew out a deep breath but shook his head. “Not until I meet her. I owe her that much. She shouldn’t learn I’m her father from a newspaper. Like you said, she thinks I killed her mother.”

“I might be able to help with that.” Bryce raised her hand, like she was volunteering to go into battle. “We’re going to get lucky on timing. When I went to visit Genevieve last weekend, she said she was coming up Sunday to see Amina’s grave. I’ll call her and double-check she’s coming. And I guess . . . tell her when she gets here. Hope she doesn’t pick up a newspaper that morning. I don’t know. But maybe I can smooth it over.”

“Do it,” I said. “We need the story to shed more light on the relationship between Dad and Amina. To give it some context and show Dad wouldn’t kill her. I think my sister would be a good way to do that.”

“I feel like I’m about to blindside her, Dash.” Bryce’s worried eyes met mine. “I feel terrible already.”

“Be gentle,” Dad murmured. “Please.”

“I will,” she promised.

“And we’ll keep searching for more.” Emmett knocked his knuckles on the table. “Draven, you call Tucker.”

He nodded. “I’ll go meet with him. Alone.”

“Keep us posted.” I pushed away from the chair, helping pull Bryce’s away so she could stand. Then we all walked out of the clubhouse, the plan in place. I escorted Bryce to her car. Her eagerness to get to the newspaper was palpable, but before she left, I wanted to make sure she was all right. “Feeling better?”

“Not really, but I’ll be fine. It’s just a stomach ache. That smell in the clubhouse was”—she gagged—“potent. I’m going to get to work. Call me later?”

I nodded. “I need to get caught up on some jobs here. We’ve been leaning pretty heavy on Isaiah and Presley to run the garage while we’ve had this extra shit happening. Time for me to get my hands dirty and finish some cars.”

“Be sure to wash those hands before di

We hadn’t made a commitment. We hadn’t made promises. Except as I stood and watched her leave, I realized that no other woman would kiss me again.

Bryce was it for me. The one.

Dad’s shadow crossed mine. “You love her.”

I didn’t respond. Bryce would be the first to hear the words. I took a step toward the garage. “Need to get to work.”

“Dash.” Dad’s hand flew out, stopping me. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to go to prison, not when you didn’t kill Amina. But you and me? We’re done.”

His shoulders fell. “I understand.”

“I need some time without you here at the garage. Some space to think. You’re not the man I thought you were.”

“I’ve never been a hero, son.”

I met his brown gaze. “But you were to me.”

The blow hit Dad hard. His face tightened like he’d been sucker punched and was fighting to breathe.

Leaving him alone on the asphalt, I walked toward the garage, then paused and looked back while Dad was still in earshot. “Nick deserves to know. Either you tell him, or I will.”

He simply nodded.

And two hours later, as I was flat on my back underneath the Mustang, the engine of Dad’s motorcycle revved as he left the garage. My phone rang thirty seconds later.