I shrugged but didn’t back down. “I don’t know what the fuck to think.”
Havoc stepped into the building and waved for me to follow. “Come on. The prez will want to hear this.”
I followed Havoc through a large common area, past the bar, down a hallway, and beyond the smell of cooking food to a series of offices. We stopped before a door, and he knocked twice before cracking it open to peer inside.
“Hey Prez, you got a minute?”
“Yeah. Come on in.”
Framed black and white newspaper articles about soldiers who’d committed suicide lined the walls, and a giant POW flag hung behind the desk. A heavily tattooed man wearing a T-shirt beneath a club vest with a name patch that read, “Link.” As we entered, he leaned against his desk and lowered his phone to look me over.
“This is Beth’s son,” Havoc said. “You know, the cook from the preschool who brought us the Christmas cookies.”
The man stepped forward, offering me his hand. “You can call me Link. Your mom is a damn talented baker.”
I was aware, and more than a little irritated that this was where her cookies had ended up, but I shook his hand. “Landon.”
“Landon here says someone broke into the preschool this morning.”
Watching Link’s expression, I asked, “You know anything about that?”
His eyes narrowed at me. “Why the fuck would I?”
“I know nothing about you and your club, man, but I’ve met bikers before. If there’s trouble, they’re usually in the thick of it. You piss off any rival clubs lately?”
Link shared a look with Havoc, who shrugged and said, “At least he’s not a pussy.”
Link’s attention dropped to his cell phone, where he busily typed away while he said, “You want to know about the club, follow me.”
He pushed off his desk and went out the door. I followed, with Havoc on my heels. Trapped between the two men with basically nowhere to fucking go should the need arise, a small voice in my head began wondering if I should leave. It was clear they knew nothing about who’d attacked the preschool, so there was no reason for me to stay, and every reason to get my ass out of there.
But I was curious.
“Sage said he was a combat medic,” Havoc said, like I wasn’t walking between them. “Recent medical discharge.”
“We could use a medic around here,” Link said, opening the door to a large room.
“I’m not sticking around,” I said.
A handful of bikers surrounded a conference table, and all eyes were on me.
“This is Landon, Beth’s son,” Link said.
“The woman who brought the cookies,” Havoc added.
The reception turned warmer, and Mom’s cookies got more compliments. Link went around the table, introducing his vice president, Wasp; Morse and Tap, who worked in IT and security; a crazy-eyed biker named Rabbit; and Eagle, the club treasurer.
Link commanded me to sit, then said, “Tell us what happened at the preschool.”
Deciding it couldn’t hurt, I detailed the break-in.
“You have any idea who it could be?” Link asked.
I hesitated.
“It sure as shit has nothing to do with us, and we can’t help if we don’t know what the fuck we’re dealing with.”
“Mercy has a brother named Ben. He showed up at her apartment all beat to hell.”
