Under an Endless Moon: Chapter 37

“What the fuck was that about?” Otto spat it as he tore through the double doors of the club, heading right for that piece of shit Gideon Marsdon who was already at the bar, swilling down a bottle of tequila.

This bar was private, tucked behind the public bar out front, and was overflowing with Iron Owls at two on a Friday afternoon.

A ton of speculative eyes flew Otto’s way as he stormed in, a path of fury lit behind him.

Gideon cracked a condescending grin. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Hudson.”

Otto hated this motherfucker. Had despised him since the moment he’d met him. But that scorn had taken on whole new levels after he’d been messing with Haddie a couple years earlier.

Otto knew the fucker had done it on purpose. Knew he’d known exactly who she was when he’d gone dragging his slimy ass around Otto’s little sister.

Around Raven.

He still wanted to come unglued every time he thought about it, and this prick was only driving the nail that much deeper.

Otto scoffed. “You don’t know what I’m talkin’ about? Well let me remind you that it was your fuckin’ job to sit lookout while I did my drop.”

It’d been Gideon’s duty to have his back, only when Otto had come out of the warehouse down by the docks, he and the rest of his crew had been missing.

Alarm had tremored through him the second he was out in the light of day. A feeling that somethin’ had gone bad.

Loathing rolled through Otto as he thought of what his own job had been. It was the part of being an Owl that still made him sick, the drugs they ran through the city, contributing to the poverty and desolation that ran rampant. It was his duty, though, nothing he could say that could get him out of the pact that he’d made.

Not that he would have stopped, anyway. Not when it was on him to keep a roof over Haddie’s head. On him to pay her tuition now that she was attending USC. He’d promised her if she got in that he would take care of the rest.

Trent Lawson rose from the shadows where he lounged on a high-backed stool, his head cocked to the side as he approached.

He was their vice prez, and his duty was making sure the club ran smooth.

Dude was as intimidating as they came. Stealthy and quiet and filled with demons so dark the last thing you wanted was his animosity pointed at you.

“The fuck is this?” he asked, purely a threat as he came up to the two of them.

Gideon grinned, and his brother Dusty chuckled low beside him, as if they were sharing some kind of inside joke.

“Got a call from Cutter that we were needed elsewhere.” Gideon shrugged. “President always takes precedence.”

“Yet you didn’t contact me to let me know so I could send Otto backup?” Trent demanded.

Gideon feigned a flinch. “Must have slipped my mind.”

Otto wanted to rip the asshole’s throat out.

Trent scrubbed a hand over the top of his head, sighing, before he returned a glare at Gideon. “Make sure you don’t forget next time, yeah?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Otto’s hands clenched in a bid to subdue the violence skating through his veins.

Trent turned his attention to him, head inclining. “You good, brother?”

He took a step back, gritting his teeth when he muttered, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Otto wasn’t good.

He wasn’t fuckin’ good at all.

He was fuckin’ face down on the ground, cuffs being slapped around his wrists. “You’re under arrest for the distribution of narcotics. You have the right to remain silent…”

The officer’s words were muddled, like the rushing of water in his ears, rage and regret a crashing waterfall that gushed through his senses.

His gaze caught on the front door of the house he’d shared with his crew for the last nine years, only none of the guys were there to witness this.

It was Raven who stood on the stoop, a hand covering her mouth as tears poured down her face.

His chest squeezed tight, his brow furrowing as they hauled him to his feet. “It’s gonna be okay, Raven. Don’t worry. It’s gonna be okay. Tell the guys what’s going down, and tell my sister⁠—”

He didn’t get the chance to say anything else before he was shoved into the backseat of a cruiser.

He stared out the window at the girl who’d become a woman in the blink of an eye. Torment shearing through her being as she mouthed, I will.

The cruiser pulled away, leaving her behind while he wondered if he just had bad fuckin’ luck or if he’d been set up.