“A disguise?” Havoc snorted. “Jules, check out Tap’s makeup job. Looks like he mastered that contouring shit they show in those videos you watch.”
As I wondered about Tap’s “disguise” a gorgeous redhead wearing skinny jeans, boots, and a pale purple blouse under a cut of her own stepped into the room. She looked Tap over and hummed in agreement. “Impressive. Did you do this yourself?”
“Yes.”
Julia nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “You’ll have to show me your supplies. I’m curious about what you used as a base around your jawline.”
“Later. Right now, I need your help with something else.” He stepped to the side and I found myself staring into the faces of Havoc and the redhead he’d called Jules. “Uh… Sasha? What’s wrong?” Tap asked.
I was probably gaping. Fixing my face, I replied, “You didn’t tell me they were bikers.”
“Oh, honey, I’m probably the furthest thing from a biker there is,” the redhead replied.
“Havoc’s with the Dead Presidents Motorcycle Club,” Tap replied. “They’re not an outlaw club like the Serpents. They’re all former military and they do good stuff like volunteering at schools and… uh... They’re the ones who took down Mayor Kinlan.”
“I keep up with the news, and I’m familiar with who the Dead Presidents are,” I replied. The club was almost as well-known around Seattle as the Serpents, only for opposite reasons. Most of the officers I worked with had no love for the Dead Presidents, but nobody could deny the good that the club had done, even if their methods bordered on vigilantism. “Thank you for your service, Havoc. And for all you do with the club.”
I couldn’t tell if he heard me, because Havoc was focused on Tap. “Care to explain why you’re making it sound like you’re not a part of the club, brother?” Turning his gaze to me, Havoc added, “Thank you. Tap’s a member, too.”
Which meant Tap was also a veteran. Interesting. “His life is like the start of a joke. A biker, a veteran, and a stripper walk into a bar… Only it’s all Tap.”
Tap looked like he’d just swallowed a fly.
Figuring I’d said something I probably shouldn’t have, I snapped my mouth shut.
“A stripper?” Havoc asked, perking right up.
I felt like shit. Tap had helped me. He’d cleaned me up and fed me and was trying to keep me alive, and I’d just rolled over on him and given up one of his secrets. Desperate to save face, I launched into an explanation. “Yeah, a paint stripper. That’s what Tap does for a living. In fact, that’s what he was doing at Buzz’s house. Stripping the paint right off the walls. He’s good at it, too. You couldn’t even tell those walls had been painted by the time he got through with them.”
“In the middle of the night?” Havoc asked.
“Absolutely. That’s the best time to do it since it doesn’t interfere with anything. Don’t have to worry about anyone getting in the way.” I was rambling now, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
Tap collapsed on the sofa beside me, elbows on knees, head in hands. “Don’t. There’s no redeeming this. Just… let it happen.”
Havoc’s eyes were alight with humor. “A stripper? Damn, I didn’t know Buzz swung that way.”
Tap massaged his temples. “It wasn’t for Buzz. It was a bachelorette party for his daughter.”
Havoc didn’t laugh out loud, but he didn’t have to. His face said everything.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to Tap.
He shrugged. “It was bound to come out sooner or later. Bunch of goddamn busybodies. I swear none of ’em are happy unless their nose is buried in someone else’s shit.”
The humor disappeared from Havoc’s eyes. “You don’t get it, brother. We keep giving you time, hoping you will, but you still don’t.”
“Get what?” he asked.
“The Dead Presidents is more than a club; it’s a brotherhood. Yeah, we flick each other shit, but we also have each other’s backs. If I couldn’t have made it tonight, Wasp would have. The motherfucker probably would have given himself a hernia from laughing when he found out about your moonlighting gig, but he’d put his life on the line for you in a heartbeat. As would any of us. That’s what being part of a brotherhood means. We watch out for one another. But it’s near impossible to protect someone with so many goddamn secrets he refuses to even let us know what he does for work or where he lives.”
“Yeah, well I appreciate your concern, but some secrets are necessary. I do everything that’s asked of me around the club, so I don’t see why it’s anyone’s business what I do outside of it. I pay my dues just like everyone else.”
“We’re not a fuckin’ charity case. Link doesn’t bring in members so we can take from them. It’s a two-way street.” Havoc swiped a hand across the back of his neck and looked at me. “Sorry. I uh… I get carried away. I’m Havoc and this is my wife, Julia. I take it you’re the one who needs to be stitched up?”
I tried to stand to greet them, but my thigh burned.
“Whoa,” Tap said, holding his arm in front of me. “Relax. No need for that.”
