Making Choices (Black Shamrocks MC Book 2) by Kylie Hillman

started to take its toll on Beast.
    He hasn't been right for months—snapping at everyone, making decisions without taking it to the table, and treating Mad Dog like a pariah. He’s damaging his standing in the Club, and he’s undermining his own presidency with his erratic behavior. He's always been a hot head, but the last few months are the worst he's ever been.
    Most of us are getting sick of it.
    “Like I said, I'll be back at the hospital after I’ve checked in with Smoke. No, I’m not fucking bringing them with me. For fuck’s sake, Beast. Lainey's out there, JJ’s with her, and you're worried about keeping the cops off your back. Man the fuck up. We’ll deal with the cops once we've found our women.”
    A volley of profanity erupts from his phone before it goes silent.
    Mad Dog lowers it and stares at the screen.
    “Yeah, fuck you too,” he tells the dead device, draining the beer I passed him.
    “What's his problem now?” I ask.
    “Apparently the cops have been breathing down his neck, wanting to know where we are. Asking questions about fucking Brendan Taylor, trying to act like this shit’s connected.” He spits the name of Lainey’s ex as if it tastes like shit. “And instead of ignoring them, he’s fucking unravelling. They have nothing on any of us. Never bloody will. So why can’t he ignore their shit?”
    Finishing my beer, I grab the empties and as I’m heading to put them in the bin, a thought overtakes me.
    Fuck me.
    How didn’t I see this earlier?
    Striding back into the living area, I quiz him.
    “Do you think Beast already knew who had the girls?”
    Mad Dog narrows his eyes at me. What I’ve just asked is tantamount to accusing our Prez of treason, of betraying his own Club.
    “Why the fuck would you ask that?” he growls.
    He may have his issues with Beast, but I’m crossing the line with my question.
    Rolling my shoulders, I try to release the tension that’s gripping me. I also flex them to make sure that I have my arms ready in case he reacts badly to what I’m about to say.
    “Think about it. He’s barely brought anything to the table to do with Connor. He ignores every suggestion about where we can find the fucker, and we’ve had some good fucking leads.” Mad Dog cocks his head to the side, taking in my words, the anger that clouded his expression at my first question reducing as I explain further. “Plus he didn’t seem surprised this morning when Maddi went missing. He didn’t even call lockdown, which should’ve been his first move. He was more worried about Sal getting hurt. Normally, he would’ve gone off his fucking head and we’d still be fixing whatever he fucked up...”
    I’m about to point out how calm he was at the hospital earlier when Mad Dog interrupts.
    “Fuck me. How fucking dumb am I? Just then, he told me to tell Smoke and the others to head back to the hospital with us. To stop looking for now. When I queried it, he fucking hung up on me.”
    “You’re kidding, right? Why’d he call off the search now that we know who has them?”
    This doesn’t make sense.
    Maddi is his only daughter.
    Normally he’d be searching himself, calling in favors, and fucking up anyone who got in his way.
    “Brother, I’m not kidding. You heard me. I told him I’m not fucking doing it.” Mad Dog bunches his fists and scowls.
    He’s gonna knock someone’s head off their shoulders before the end of the day.
    Probably Beast’s, the way it’s looking.
    I nod in agreement.
    Fuck that. The two women I love are in the hands of one of the rats who worked with the Mavericks to attempt the patch over of our Club. If anything, we should be sending more brothers out, not bringing them in.
    “Fuck this shit. Let’s go find Smoke. See what the fuck he knows.”
    I push my thoughts about loving two women—two missing women who are in who the fuck knows how much danger—from my head. Now is not the time to examine the depth of my feelings for JJ, considering