Wirth (Dirty Aces MC Book 5) by Lane Hart (carter reed TXT) 📕

it’s a ghost town. It’s almost too quiet out here. I start to mention that when Silas kicks in the front door. At the same time, I hear pounding coming from the back of the building, then everyone is running inside.

The front room is where the bar is located, along with a few tables and chairs, and several booths around the sides. It’s also empty, so we head down the hallway where someone calls out, “Hold your fire! The place is empty!”

“Empty?” Malcolm repeats, stepping inside one of the rooms and flipping on the lights. It’s a messy bedroom where someone sleeps, but not tonight.

Sure enough, all of the six smaller rooms are in the same state as well as an office and the storage rooms.

Fuck.

“Fuck!” Malcolm exclaims, echoing my sentiments.

I should’ve known Maeve couldn’t do the one thing I fucking told her, which was to let her brother know the plan without anyone else finding out.

What the hell was she thinking? Doesn’t she realize that now, more than before, the MC is going to know someone ran their mouth, that we have a rat? And eventually, someone will figure out that rat is me…

“Now what?” Devlin asks. “Should we still rig up the bomb?”

“No,” Malcolm clips out. “Everyone out! Now!” he yells, pushing us toward the front door. “For all we know, this is a goddamn trap!”

Jesus. He’s right. My heart starts racing, worried that, by feeling sorry for Maeve and running my mouth to help her brother, I’m going to get us all killed, myself included.

But once we make it outside and don’t find an angry Irish mob waiting to blow us away, I can breathe a little easier.

“Back to the bikes!” Malcolm orders, and we all march back silent, lost in our own thoughts.

Maeve

I sit up in bed to answer my phone the second it rings. I’ve been holding it and my breath until the clock clicked past four a.m.

“Rian? Are you okay?” I ask him in a rush.

“You were right,” he says softly like he’s whispering to avoid anyone overhearing him. “The security cameras just alerted Cormac to motion. There were more than a dozen of them. Looks like they didn’t trash the place or even steal anything. I can’t tell if Cormac is relieved we weren’t there or suspicious of me for suggesting we head out tonight. Heh, fuck you very much for that, I suppose.”

“I don’t care,” I tell him in relief. “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you’re alive. How could he be mad or suspicious when no one died?”

“Because it’s quite a coincidence, Maeve. He’s been going through everyone’s phone…”

“Everyone but yours?” I ask.

“Oh, he looked at mine too. You’re the only person I get calls from. He hasn’t forgotten about how ‘close’ you were to the Knights.”

“Whatever,” I tell Rian. “He can put the blame on me all he wants or come after me, but I don’t regret it. He’s being an idiot, and it’s going to get you and him both killed if he’s not careful.”

“I’m sure he would love to hear that,” Rian mutters. “Gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I agree as he hangs up.

Now, I can finally snuggle back down into my bed and try to get some sleep knowing that my brother and Wirth are both safe tonight.

Chapter Seventeen

Wirth

“Someone in this room is a goddamn rat!” Malcolm roars while slamming his fists down on the wooden table. There’s barely standing room in the chapel; but for whatever reason, I think that’s how Malcolm wanted it, all of us crammed together while he goes off on us, trying to put pressure on the traitor.

“If so, then why weren’t the Irish there to ambush us?” Hunt asks. “It doesn’t make sense for them to not take advantage of the situation. Where the fuck were they, and why didn’t they get us when we were vulnerable?”

“Hunt’s right,” Dev agrees. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Malcolm says, looking pointedly at me like he already knows I’m to blame. “And we’re not leaving this fucking room until someone talks. No one but the men in here knew our plan. No one!”

Maeve is going to get me killed. I’ve always said that women are not worth the trouble, and here I am, my head on the chopping block because she’s got me pussy whipped after less than two nights with her.

No, this is worse than being pussy whipped.

She’s got the fucking whip wrapped around my neck about to hang me with it.

“I know who the rat is,” I speak up and say. The room goes so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“Well, let’s hear it,” Silas grumbles from where he’s standing next to me, practically breathing down my neck.

“It’s me. I’m the rat.”

A few guys swear, others gasp.

“You dirty motherfucker!” Hunt shouts, and then he pulls out his gun to point it at me. “It’s your fault I almost died!”

“That’s your own goddamn fault, you stupid son of a bitch!” I yell back at him, pulling out my gun from the back of my waistband to aim it just as fast. “Maeve’s brother is a part of the Irish fucking mafia, you blind idiot!”

His right hand holding the gun lowers. “Maeve?” he repeats. “No fucking way!”

“Do you really not vet your girls?” Malcolm asks, not looking all that surprised. Shaking his head, he says, “Blinded by the pussy. We’ve all been there.”

“So, what are we going to do? Kill the bitch?” Silas asks from beside me. I ram my elbow into his face without even a second thought. Blood pours from his nose but that doesn’t stop him from swinging his fist at my face.

“You son of bitch!” he roars while laying into me.

“Stop it right the fuck now!” Malcolm says when he and some of the other guys intervene to pull us apart. “Open the door and put all the guns the fuck down now! The lack of oxygen is making us