Page 70 of Dublin Devil

“Not yet.” Tag sighs on the other end of the line. “We can’t handle the volume of product Mattie negotiated for without tipping the balance of our entire operation. I want more legitimate businesses in the future, not less.”

“You’ll think of something—you always do.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but if you get any big ideas, throw them into the ring. The hours are ticking down, brother. We need a plan.”

“All right. I’ll give it some thought today, and we can talk over dinner.”

“You’re coming for dinner? I figured once you were back on your bike and Piper was gone, you’d be back to your flat.”

“Aye, well, maybe I’m not ready to give up Cora’s cooking just yet.”

Tag laughs. “Whatever it takes. You know she loves it when we’re all under one roof.”

“Aye, she does at that.”

I end the call and stare at my phone again, willing it to light up with Piper’s name. Today, of all days, I need to be focused, but I can’t help but worry.

Mattie McGuire is a venomous snake.

If Piper’s not careful, she’ll get a nasty bite.

The silence of the headquarters feels more oppressive than ever, each tick of the clock hands taunting me.

I stand to rally my army, to throw myself into the work. It’s the only way to keep the worry at bay, focusing on what I can control. Not waiting for a text that may not come or for the night to unfold.

We’re in the eye of the storm. All I can do is prepare myself in the silence and wait for the chaos to unleash.

I step onto the front porch of the clubhouse, pulling the door shut behind me with a solid thud. The air is crisp, carrying a sharp chill that’s uncommon for Dublin at this time of year. Where has the summer gone?

I fish a cigarette from my jacket and light up, taking a long, slow drag. The nicotine hits, but it doesn’t do much to ease the knot of worry that’s locked in my chest.

Flicking ash off the end, I pull out my cell and dial Kieran, my sergeant at arms. He picks up on the second ring. “Have you got an update from the south side?”

“Yeah, boss,” Kieran’s voice is steady, reliable. “My guy’s on it. He watched over Piper at the wake last night, made sure she got home okay. He’s stationed outside her house now. Says three black limos just pulled up. He’ll tail them to the funeral and keep me posted.”

That information helps settle some of the restlessness stirring inside me. “Good. Keep me updated. And make sure your guy stays sharp. If anyone moves on Piper, I want to know immediately.”

“Got it. Anything else?”

“Aye, Tag wants to double up on patrols. He’s not sure if the funeral will inspire Mattie to take the day off or come at us. He wants to be prepared. Where are you now?”

“Frenchie, Tig, and I are at the staging warehouse, replacing the loading bay door.”

“Okay, you three stay on that, I’ll get Keefer and we’ll work the patrols.”

“Let me know if anything fun starts. We’ll be there.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll all get our fill of bloody battles in the days to come.”

“Promises, promises.”

I end the call and slide the phone back into the side pocket of my leather vest. I take another drag of my cigarette and scan the lines of bikes in the yard.

It’s a fucking beautiful sight.

I wonder if Piper would ride. I could get her a Low Rider or maybe a Nightster, and have Kieran paint it up all sexy and spank. Thinking about Piper in leathers does powerful things to me.

I groan as my cock hardens and I realize I have no right to fantasize about a future where the two of us can break the sound barrier together.