| |
I gave her a kiss in the driveway, feeling very relaxed and relieved. Her sultry look of satisfaction overcame her plain looks and I felt good for having fucked her. I said, "I'll see you again."
She pursed her lips, much going unsaid. "I hope so."
I rode off and away from her house. Back towards the other side of town.
A truck went roaring through the intersection up ahead, the back sporting a handful of men leaning out and looking forward. White t-shirts obvious, a flash of blue caught my eye: a ball cap.
Surenos. Yeah? No? I twisted the throttle and sped towards the intersection. I braked hard and came to a stop in the intersection. The truck was turning, leaning heavily as it raced around a corner. Chasing someone? Or getting away from something?
I didn't feel like trying to chase them down. I rode to the Daily and parked out front. Three Harleys were outside. I went inside, carrying my helmet.
Gripper was inside talking to Slaughter and Pulverizer, two of the decent guys from the disbanded Sons of Aggression. The enforcer nodded at me.
I thumbed over my shoulder. "Keep an eye out. Saw a truck flying around with what might have been Surenos in it."
Gripper straightened immediately. "You alert the club?"
I reached into my pocket and pulled my phone. "Not yet. Rode here as quick as I could." I tapped out a message and sent it to Sonar.
Slaughter looked angry. "Those were the guys the sheriff suspects—"
I looked at him with a nod, but I knew I couldn't tell him the truth. I knew he wouldn't be able to handle it – not at this juncture. The Iron Crows had made Ace disappear. Was he buried at Morningside? Or disposed of somewhere else? I didn't know. "They want to control drugs, both in the city and establish a ring out here." I held up my fingers and rubbed them together. "Untapped potential."
Slaughter's eyes drew down.
Pulverizer said, "We should fuck them up. Kick them out of town."
I looked out the door. Gripper was outside. I said to them, "Stick around with the Iron Crows; you won't be disappointed. In the meantime, stick with Gripper. Watch your bikes."
The two grumbled and headed outside.
Tequila leaned over the counter and grinned at me. "I think that was all an excuse."
"Huh?"
She motioned with her finger for me to come nearer. "I bet you wanted them out of here so you could talk to me."
"I did see a truck-full of—"
She frowned. "Well, shit. Way to spoil a lady's fantasy."
I chuckled and walked around the bar to stand next to her. "I don't know, maybe I should come by more often."
She gripped my crotch and squeezed. "Now you're talking."
I gave her a wet kiss. "I need to check on Flats at the yard; make sure he's all right. Maybe I'll sneak in here tomorrow when the place opens."
She smiled, lifted her eyebrows, and let them fall in promise. "Kristy says I can get you as much as I want."
My mood wilted, though I didn't let it show on my face. What am I going to do with Kristy?
Tequila misread my silence. Her pout under all that mascara was comical. "Aw, shoot, are you still giving some to Donna?"
I nodded just so slightly. "She's a lot like me. Like Kristy."
"I can ride a Harley."
"I bet you can. But it's not just that." I hooked my hand up and pressed upward at the crotch of her jeans. "You're a dirty woman, Tequila. I look forward to making you cum again."
Her smile spread wide. "We're on the same page."
"Oh, don't you ever doubt it." I released her and walked out.
Gripper was leaning, arms crossed. He grunted at me.
I said, "I'm going to check on Flats. Poor guy is all alone."
Slaughter and Pulverizer waved.
I got on my Harley and started her up. Comforted by the powerful vibration, I scanned the streets. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The ride to the shop revealed no mad Surenos flashing gang sign and bouncing their heads.
Flats met me near the door. "Couple calls for you to hear on voice mail. Two of the garages had questions."
I filed that away in my mind. "Think I saw some Surenos around. Not sure. I'm going to close the gate to hide the bikes."
He spat and nodded.
We were safe, but someone else wasn't.
~ ~ ~
I got off my Harley Sportster in front of the clubhouse just as a sheriff's SUV stopped across the street. A large black cop got out and came across the street. He had to be six inches taller than me, at least.
I waited, wondering if he was coming for me. My hand gripped the bar of the door until my knuckles whitened. Does he know about Thomas Green? Can he see the blood on my hands? Or can he see the headshot replaying out clearly in my eyes?
He put his hands on his Sam Browne gear belt. "Dealer in?" His rich baritone and searching eyes left no doubt this was the sheriff. His nametag said, "Jefferson."
I opened my mouth, stunned by the cop not asking me about the agent. "I... Come in and I'll check."
He gave a curt nod. He followed me in.
I strode to the back, as much to get away from him as to tell Dealer.
I didn't have to. Dealer and Sonar were coming out. Sonar had a small bank of monitors viewing the cameras placed around outside the building. He had seen the sheriff coming.
Jefferson said, "You seen Martin Mitchell?"
Dealer frowned, "Firehose?"
"We found his Harley lying over on its side in front of Gordon's Tire. No one saw anything."
Sonar's eyes flicked to me.
I growled, "Surenos."
Everyone went silent.
Jefferson looked me up and down, his mouth working behind closed lips. He looked at Dealer. "This Jimmy?"
The president nodded.
The sheriff stuck out his hand to me. "Dwayne Jefferson, sheriff. Welcome to Keystone; I've heard good things about you."
I shook his hand, though mine was already shaking on its own.
Jefferson straightened. "The fine upstanding Christian citizens of Keystone desire safety for the community. For their clean community." He left a lot else unsaid. He faced Dealer again. "I know Martin wouldn't dump his bike over and not pick it up. I think we have a situation here, and it's about to get a lot uglier."
Sonar stroked his black beard. "We've kept things quiet." His eyes darted around, taking stock of who was listening. We were all having this discussion right out in the middle of the common room.
Slicer was at the pool table, holding a chalk to his pool stick. He was paying close attention. Smoke was lying on one of the couches, feet up and reading a book. Grannie was behind the bar, stock still. Jacks came out of the back and slowed. He joined Slicer at the pool table and picked up a leaning pool stick.
Jefferson missed none of it. He slowly shook his head. "I think we're crossing a line here, gentleman. There's a major push happening and if Keystone doesn't respond, this town's going to fall to the gangs. I'm sure the citizens wouldn't want that – and sometimes... you have to use force to keep the peace."
There was silence.
Jefferson dipped his head as if to make his departure. He said, "We'll do what we can to look for him, but... you might want to start your own search as well. You all have a nice day." He left the building.
I started breathing again, not realizing I had been holding my breath.
Dealer was immediate action. "Sonar, send the call out. When people start arriving, arrange patrols of no less than four bikers."
Sonar glanced at me.
The president said with extreme disappointment, "I know."
I blinked. What did I do? All I did was bring in the sheriff...
Sonar shook his head. "Bad."
Fuck... My shoulders slumped and I didn't even know what the fuck I had done wrong.
Dealer said to me, "Get a drink, Jimmy. A stiff one. You sure as shit going to fucking need it." He stomped back to his office.