POWERHOUSE

Gunner waves for us all to follow him as he heads into church. We get his account of the conversation through a lot of, uh huh’s, I see’s, and no shit’s. I pace the floor, anxious to settle things and come up with a game plan.

Like the other guys, I’m at my wit’s end. I’m sick and fucking tired of the threats being made toward the club.

First off, we have the Crumley brothers lurking around out there somewhere. The fact that they’re laying low is unnerving and at the same time hazardous. The danger of them jumping out of nowhere and attacking is a real problem for us. They’re a huge risk to our family, one that commandeers us to be on our toes and watching out for the shoe to finally drop.

Second of all, is this unknown dilemma. One we wholeheartedly suspect Sicily is behind. But seeing as she’s incognito and being hidden, we’re constantly on high alert. She’s a menace that we can’t become lax about. She’s ruthless, mean as a rattlesnake, and determined to get what she wants. In this case, it’s Oakley that she desires with desperation—and that makes her more perilous, not to mention unpredictable than that of the metaphorical antagonists we’re usually up against.

“See ya soon, Pops,” Gunner says, ending his phone call.

“We on standby?” Kruger asks, flopping down into his vacant VP chair.

“He wants to look into a few things before we follow our gut and react,” Gunner informs us. “He thinks that he has a man underground who can find her no matter who is helping her or where she’s hiding out. I’ve agreed to give him twenty-four hours before we start hunting.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t put some feelers out though, right?” Texas inquires, shooting his eyes toward an angry vibrating Master.

“No, it doesn’t,” Gunner answers. “As a matter of fact, that was going to be my next order. I don’t like sitting on the sidelines. If we find her before Pops does, then so be it. But I need a couple of guys to volunteer to stay behind. Salem expressed to me, on her way to the kitchen this morning, that she needs to take Oakley to the studio in order to practice for her upcoming captain audition.”

“Phew,” Kruger whistles. “Is that really a risk that we’re willing to take? That’s exposing Oakley as well as Salem. Didn’t we just do that?”

“We did. But if we send a couple of brothers to guard them and do sweeps over the perimeter, I don’t see how anything should be able to touch them. Do y’all?” Gun probes.

“Has the studio been cleaned up and the windows reinforced?” I ask.

“Beckett took care of that last night with a couple of volunteers from the parents,” Shamus advises, but he still looks hesitant to agree to this.

“The premises are as secure as we can make them. But the question remains, is it safe?” Malice questions, his head swiveling as he looks at each of us wanting our input on the situation.

“I’m not comfortable agreeing to this,” I insist. “But I know how important this is for establishing their dance company and keeping their business booming. I don’t want to keep them from living their lives per se, but I’ll only be amenable if it’s a guaranteed fact that they’ll be safe while they’re out and about.”

“If one of our men stays inside and another sticks to the outside, I think all of our bases will be entirely covered,” Gunner suggests. “Thoughts?”

“Still don’t like it,” I grumble.

“Me either, but what’s the alternative?” Shamus asks.

“They could practice here,” Kruger states.

“But where? We don’t have mats for her tumbling. We don’t have those hardwood floors to help Oakley do that gliding shit she does. There’s nowhere here she can do that twirling ballerina shit either,” Romeo sighs.

“I don’t accept we have no other alternative places for her,” Master seethes.

“Isn’t there a place we can send them that’ll suffice? As long as we grab the equipment, the mats and shit, can she go anywhere to rehearse?” I ask.

“What about the warehouse we own on Main Street? It’s under an umbrella corporation. No one knows it’s connected to us,” Kruger adds.

“Not a bad idea,” Gunner says, reaching up with his hand and stroking his chin. “I think that could work.”

“It’s been abandoned for so long. Are we sure it’s safe?” Master probes.

“We had it cleared out six months ago. It’s probably a little dusty and could use some airing out, but it’s doable,” Malice injects.

Master clears his throat before stating, “If a few of us head out after dark and check it out, I’ll consider it.”

“And if we clear it, we’ll head over to the studio afterward, grab the shit they’ll need, load it up and drop it off,” Texas supplies.

“Powerhouse, let Salem know about our plan and see what else she needs. There’s an area in the back that’s hardwood floors so we’ll ask if she can make do with it. I want a list before we head out,” Gunner orders.

“I’ll go ask her as soon as we’re done and have wrapped shit up,” I say.

“We’re through, consider shit wrapped up. For now, anyway,” Gunner announces, banging his gavel on the table. “Meet back here at eight tonight and we’ll roll out.”

SALEM

The ladies and I are sitting on the back porch, watching the kids run around the back yard when I hear the creaking of the door open, and notice Cole sticking his head out. “Got a minute, babe?”

“Of course,” I answer, standing up and waving to the women. “See y’all later.”

A chorus of, “see ya’s,” are murmured as I walk his way.

“Everything alright, Cole?”

“It’s all good, sweetness. Just need to ask ya a couple of things,” he admits, securing me in his arms, gripping me around my waist once I’m standing toe-to-toe with him.

“Hi,” I breathlessly purr.

“Hi,” he gruffly answers.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing bad, just some questions the guys wanted me to ask.” He leads me over to the kitchen table, pulls out a chair, plucks me off my feet, and plants me on his lap. He tells me what all he and the guys discussed, and I can understand their concerns, which I happen to agree with. I ask him to get my boombox, my case of cassette tapes, several of the mats, as well as my bag that holds my shoes and back up leotard.

No matter what, Oakley’s safety comes first and foremost. I can make the room they’re offering at the warehouse work for what we need to do. Especially if doing so eases the guys’ minds and helps them concentrate on the matters at hand that they need to be focusing on. That’s one of the beautiful things about dance; with minimal effort, I can ensure Oakley’s able to practice where she’s not in any danger of being kidnapped or worse.

“Damn, woman. You were made for me,” he rasps. “You’ll never know how glad I am that not everything turns into an argument with you.”

“Well, seeing as I know the women you’re referencing, I actually can,” I giggle. “Just so you know, I’m sure we’ll butt heads from time to time, but honestly, Cole, if what you’re asking me to do makes sense, I see no reason for it. That’s just me, though, you know? But I don’t want you to think I’m some doormat who’ll let you walk all over me.”

“The thought never crossed my mind,” he says, a smirk crossing his face. “You’re perfect for me, babe. And as long as you don’t disrespect me in front of my brothers, you can let me have it with both barrels behind closed doors if needed. As long as you understand my primary goal is to keep you safe and I won’t ever apologize for being stern or brash. Even if it means I must come across as being too harsh sometimes.”

“Your testosterone doesn’t scare me, Cole.”

“That’s good to know, darlin’, because I happen to be jam packed full of it.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” I snicker, planting my face in his chest trying to hide how hilarious I find that statement to be.

He bends down and pecks the crown of my hair chastely then combs his fingers through my long, unbound locks. “I love your hair when it’s down and freed from those elastic bands you pull it up with.”

“I can tell. I love it when you play with it. It’s relaxing, soothing, and makes me near comatose.”

“As long as you don’t drool on me,” he jokes.

“Powerhouse, time for us to go and do some scouting,” Country states, interrupting our moment.

“Be right there, Country,” Cole returns through a rush of hot breath which hits the nape of my neck causing goosebumps to rise and pebble on my skin. “Sorry, babe. I gotta go.” He pats my rump indicating he’d like me to get up.

Happy exactly where I am, snuggled into Cole’s warmth, makes me less than enthusiastic to leave the warm cocoon I’m wrapped in. Sluggishly, I climb from his lap, my limbs all loose and jiggly.

A snarky laugh from my left catches my attention. “Got sea legs, Salem?” Country asks, his pearly whites beaming at me.

“Something like that,” I mumble as I shake my legs out one at a time. “I got so comfortable that my body was shutting down for a long overdue hibernation.”

“Hey, Salem!” I hear my name shouted. Turning around, I notice Jessia standing there.

“Hey. What’s up, Jessia?”

“The kids are gonna go fishing at the pond in the back of the property with Kong, Bull, Bear, and Tracker. Us women were gonna fire up the hot tub. You in?”

“Yes! I’m in,” I eagerly agree.

“Fuck,” Cole hisses. “I’m gonna miss you in a bikini. And wet. That sucks.”

“Maybe. But you get to see me in a lot less than that later tonight,” I perkily sass.

“He won’t be seeing shit if we don’t get going,” Country interjects.

“Gotta go,” Cole states before leaning down and whispering in my ear, “don’t get too wet without me.” Then he nips my lobe, and smacks my ass, causing a shiver to wrack my body. Then, as cool as a cucumber, he casually ambles out of the kitchen behind Country as if he didn’t just cause my panties to dampen with desire.

“Is it me? Or did it suddenly get warm in here?” I ask Jessia.

“Oh, it’s not only you,” Jessia laughs. “I’ve got sweat dripping down my back.”

Mumbling underneath my breath I declare, “My sweat is gushing from an entirely different area of my body.”

“What was that?” Jessia asks, mirth blanketed on her face.

“Nothing,” I whisper.