Page 26 of Dixie's Dilemma
I grimace and nod. “Yeah, I did.”
“Since you fucked up, but also admitted it, we need to discuss the punishment as a club and take a vote. You’re excused for now. We’ll bring you back in when we’re done. Do you have anything to say before you step out?” Hex demands.
“I want to apologize for not trusting you with my secret but also not respecting you to know you’d have my back. I thought I was protecting you, but I used that as my excuse. As I think back on my decision, I realize I decided before I knew what real brotherhood meant. In my mind, my greatest mistake was not revisiting my decision later. For that, I apologize to each of you. I acted like an idiot because I feared losing my family.”
I leave the room and close the door behind me. Leaning against the wall, I try to calm my nerves as I consider the discussion going on inside. There is a possibility that I’ll lose my kutte, but the reactions from my brothers make me feel that this isn’t likely. I betrayed my President, and if my brothers feel they can’t trust me, I could lose my VP patch. Shit, that will hurt, but not as much as losing my kutte. I was proud when Hex asked me to be his VP. But, I’d understand if Hex relieved me of my role. He needs to trust his second-in-command and I’m not sure he does any longer. I bow my head in shame when I realize how much I’ve screwed up.
My second phone vibrates in my pocket, letting me know my handler is calling me back.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“There isn’t a hit on Cleo Golubrev, so she’s safe. Or as safe as possible considering she runs Golubrev Shipping and is the Old Lady to your President. But while I was checking into it, I found out more about the client who hired the hit on Zoloth. He also paid for two additional hits. All three are in the US. One is Ivan Orloff, and the other is Dimitri Shevchenko.”
“Same time frame?” I ask.
“Yes. We don’t have the identity of the client. We think he’s working through a third-party.”
“Okay, thanks for the information. I’ll send you that case of Sazerac.”
Soon after ending the call, Abra opens the door and gestures for me to enter. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans before following him inside and shutting the door behind me. Rather than take my seat next to Hex, I stand with my back to the door awaiting their judgement. I quickly scan everyone’s face before focusing my attention on Hex. As I expect, I can’t read anyone’s expression, so I have no clue how this will go.
“We took three votes,” Hex starts. “The first was to decide if we should take your kutte. That suggestion didn’t pass, so you’re still a brother. We then took a vote to remove you as VP, but that didn’t pass either. None of us are happy that you kept this big of a secret or that you put the club in danger. However, none of us feels as if you were being malicious, that you were trying to protect us.”
He waits for a beat and just when I think he’s expecting me to respond, he continues.
“You helped me create this club. I trusted you with my dream. If someone had told me you would keep this big of a secret from me, I’d have made them regret their words. After discussing this with the rest of the club, I realize that I’m the one who has the most issue with your keeping this secret. So, I recommended the one punishment that I think will ensure this never happens again. You’re getting the brand.”
I nod at his suggestion. As much as I’m not looking forward to it, I know this will clear the air between Hex and me. The man who started the Demon Dawgs, Jeff Westbrook, started the tradition of using a branding iron for club punishments as a permanent reminder for patched members to not fuck up again. When Hex started this Chapter, Dante, the current President of our Main Chapter and the grandson of the founder, sent Hex a replica.
“I accept,” I say.
“Let’s get it over with,” Hex says, giving me a nod of approval. He moves past me to the fireplace that’s off to my left. I didn’t notice that it had been lit or the brand sitting amongst the coals. I feel a little queasy knowing how much this is going to hurt, but I shove the anxiety down as I remove my kutte and shirt, placing them on the table. Zip slaps a bottle of whiskey into my palm. I give him a nod of thanks before chugging a quarter of the bottle. He takes the bottle back and hands me a piece of leather to bite down on.
He and Abra each take an arm and hold me in position. Not because they think I’ll fight them off, but because they want to keep me still. If I thrash around or jerk, I’ll make things worse. I stiffen as the excruciating pain rushes through me. The scent of my burning flesh has the bile rising in my throat. I close my eyes and breathe through the pain. Hex doesn’t let the brand linger, for which I’m grateful. Once he removes it, I sag against Abra.
“Let’s go patch you up,” Lake says, taking me from Abra and leading me out the door to the infirmary.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DELPHINE
Cleo’s phone rings as we reach the SUV.
“It’s Skylar,” Cleo says before accepting the call. “Where have you been? We’re just leaving the spa.”
I study Cleo’s expression and concentrate on Skylar’s future. She’s upset and frustrated, but also elated. I’m having a hard time understanding what is happening to her.
When Cleo ends the call, she sighs with relief. “She’s fine. She received a call from someone she’s been wanting on her show for ages. A fellow influencer on the West Coast. We don’t have to go back to the clubhouse yet, unless that’s what you wanted? Before we made plans for the spa, Nora wanted to go by the garden center and select plants for the garden.”
“That sounds like fun!” Shayna says and the other women agree. A part of me wants to get back to the clubhouse and see Dixie, but I’m not ready to face him. To give myself time, I happily agree to the errand.
The garden center we go to is huge. We drive Jack and Levi to distraction by going off in different directions. Olivia and Nora go straight to the herbs while my daughters head for the fruit trees. Cleo and I have wandered over to the decorative plants.
“Maybe we should think about adding in some color around the clubhouse,” Cleo says, eyeing the purple coneflowers. “We could do some container gardening to start out,” Cleo muses.
“That’s a good idea. Ease Hex into the beautification of his clubhouse,” I add, which makes Cleo chuckle.
“Speaking of Hex, can we please stay together?” Jack begs. “If anything happens to any of you, Hex will kick me out of the club.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Jack,” I placate him. “Let’s grab Shayna and Sasha and catch up with the others. This is Nora’s project, so she needs to be the focus.”