“Yessir.”
“Your job is to watch and relay information. Don’t go rushing into a bad situation, don’t try to be a hero, and don’t do shit on your own without clearing it with me. You have real brothers at your back now, not like that asshole who got you locked up. We protect our own. You need us, make the call and we’ll be here.”
“Yessir. I appreciate that.”
Deryk was riding a blue 2001 V-Rod that Wasp had picked up at an auction. It still needed some work, but Wasp had put enough time and parts into it to get the sled into riding condition.
“Take care of Ol’ Blue here,” I said, patting the handlebars on my way to my 2016 matte black Street Bob Dyna. “Watch the right turns, the exhaust decks out. And you should probably move it to somewhere a little less conspicuous since Emily wasn’t exactly receptive to the idea of having a body guard. That black Jag right there is hers.”
He followed my nod. “An XE? Damn. Nice ride. She’s got good taste.”
A slick cage for sure. “Just make sure you don’t lose sight of it.”
“Yessir.”
Hoping I was doing the right thing by putting the kid to work so soon, I climbed onto my sled and put on my helmet.
“Thank you,” Deryk said, slinging his leg over the V-Rod. “I won’t let you down, Prez.”
I was counting on it.
