“Right. The point. Okay, so I’m suggesting that we move into the count’s property, or I guess it’s mine now... with Harlow, renovate the zoo part of it, and let her start her own animal sanctuary or something. She got so upset at that idiot on the tv last week, the guy with all those tigers, and maybe we could help stop that kind of shit from happening. She could rescue them, start a proper conservation program, and we could do school tours and everything.” He breaks off and raises an eyebrow when everyone gapes at him. ”What?”
“Holy fuck, dude! It’s perfect.” Kai claps him on the shoulder while Holden and Oliver continue to stare at him in shock. Declan has a slight smile on his lips, and I can see his brain working on it already. I’m glad he’s not feeling a little salty. Our youngest brother just came up with the perfect scenario, but it’s usually Declan who comes up with all the plans.
“We’ll have to hire someone to train her through her internship and find staff to run the day-to-day things.” Declan pulls out his phone and starts making notes, an excited gleam in his eye. Really, he’s got the best mindset for this stuff, so now that we have an idea, we can hit the ground running.
“None of us know anything about zoos or sanctuaries or anything, so let’s find a consultant to help with design or whatever else we need.” Holden points a finger at Declan, who writes it down.
I chuckle before I can stop it, and they all turn to look at me.
“What is it, General Hardass?” Oliver asks sarcastically. “What are you going to say to rain on our parade now?”
“Well, don't you think asking Harlow first might be a good idea? Not to mention we should have a tour through the house and see if it’s livable after all these years.” Declan is so practical it’s a little scary, but I don't think he means it negatively. He’s just cautious and would hate to see them disappointed if Harlow didn't like the plan or the place was deemed unlivable.
Looking a little sheepish now, Declan tucks his phone away, though I do see him save the notes, and the others kind of just squirm under my gaze.
“Yeah, you’ve probably got a point. But at least we’ve got some kind of a plan, right?” Jaxon points out, and yes, he is right. We have a consensus that we all want to stay in this relationship, and now we’ve got a plan to make Harlow as happy as we are. That’s pretty damn good for a bunch of guys with terrible relationship experience and intimacy issues, if I do say so myself.
“Okay, but before we can get a happily ever after, we have to deal with this stalker crap, so how about we check out this bar? I’ll ask the questions, so you’re just there for backup. Have a drink or play a game of pool, but don't start anything,” I warn them, and thankfully, they’re all intelligent enough to let me lead.
The bar is smoky, the smell of stale beer is prevalent, and the fact that it’s a biker hangout is glaringly evident thanks to all the bikes parked out front and the patched leathers inside the bar. But it’s a quiet, relaxed atmosphere that we walk into. No one but the bartender pays particular attention when I take a seat at the bar and order beers for the six of us. When they arrive, the others take theirs to a booth near an empty pool table, where Declan puts some coins in and racks up the balls.
“Visiting?” the barman asks conversationally after he goes back to polishing glasses. He’s wearing a leather vest and has tattoos all over his arms, with a long red beard and matching hair on his head. He looks like he’s tough, but he’s certainly not putting out any fuck-off vibes.
I take a slow sip of my cold beverage before answering. “Kind of. I also might be looking for some information if you’re willing to help.”
“Well, I guess that all depends on the information you might be looking for,” the bartender says, putting down the glass and cloth, his eyes narrowing and his vibe becoming a little less casual.
“This was found on the body of a dead PI back in California.” I pull out the business card and flick it onto the bar. The man raises an eyebrow, but I've got to give him credit; he doesn't even flinch.
“So what? Do you know how many people come in and out of this bar every day? That doesn't mean shit.”
I take another long pull of my beer. “Nope, you’re right, but I’m hoping when I say who the PI was investigating, you might give me a little more to go on.”
He scoffs, not so friendly now. He leans against the bar, trying to intimidate me, but I don't scare so easily. “I doubt it, but sure, let’s give it a whirl.” The sarcasm is thick, but I rush on, ignoring it.
“Does the name Diane Stubbs mean anything to you?” I watch the man over the top of my bottle very carefully. He’s obviously had practice, but the tic in the corner of his eye tells me everything I need to know. “Look, I’m going to be straight with you. She’s dead, but her daughter is being stalked, and this bar is one of the better leads we’ve had. Now, I could have given it to the police, and they’d be busting in here and messing shit up, but I haven't, so how about we cut the crap, and you share with me what you know.”
I can see him contemplating whether he’s going to pull a gun on me or cooperate with me. When his hands shift, I tense, ready to grab the weapon I've got tucked into the back of my jeans, but he just turns, moves out the bar, and disappears down a corridor.
Now, either he’s about to ambush me with more men, or I might be getting some answers to my questions. Either way, I wait and drink my beer. I’m alert and ready for anything, but I’m really hoping it’s the latter, not the former.
Five minutes go past, and when he returns, a large man follows him. He’s probably my dad’s age, maybe a little older, and this guy has some fuck-off vibes radiating off of him. His jeans are ripped at the knees, and he’s got shit-kicking motorcycle boots on his feet. He’s wearing a shirt with the bar’s name on it, so there’s no saying who this man is, but if I had to guess, this is the President of the MC.
He looks me up and down before nodding in the direction of a booth. “Come on, let’s talk over there.” He grabs the two new beers the barman has just slammed down, and I follow him to the secluded corner. He slides in, and I take the opposite side as he passes one of the new pints over.
“I saw you on the news. Some gossipy piece of shit that said you and those other pretty boys are in a relationship with Harlow. Is this true?” The voice is gravelly, but there’s no aggression, just curiosity.
“Yes, it’s true, but it’s nothing as evil as the media is claiming. We all know about each other. She’s not cheating on us, and she is most definitelynotrelated to us.”
The man nods. “Yes, I know that she’s not even remotely related. Polyamory is cool, man.” My eyebrows jump. Well, that wasn't what I was expecting. “I have two wives and a husband.”
Fuck me, I think my eyes just about pop out of my head at his admission. He chuckles at my reaction and takes a sip of his beer. “You said she has a stalker. Is she okay?” He kind of looks over at my brothers, almost like he was expecting her to be here.
“Yes, she’s fine. We left her at her home,” I tell him cautiously. ”Mind sharing how you know Harlow?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “When I knew Diane, I had just become President of this club after my old man had had a freak car accident. Diane was a regular in the clubhouse, one of the club whores, I guess, but she was also turning tricks on the side to make money. For me, she was safe because she was usually too coked out of her mind for sex. I was hiding the fact that I was bi, and she was an easy cover, but that ended as soon as I realized how she treated her kid. Harlow was a good girl, but at fourteen, she was starting to develop into a woman, and I saw how her mom’s clients looked at her. I bought her a gun and taught her how to use it. I wish I could have done more, but like I said, I had just taken over and was trying to muddle my way through running an MC that was old school. It’s different now, but it was hard for a couple of years. Most of the time, Harlow was safely out of the way, staying with her foster parents. I must admit I did try to stoke the flames of Diane's jealousy, telling her how pretty her daughter was, and last I heard, it worked. She had stopped having Harlow visit.”
Ahh, this is the guy Harlow told the family about back when she first arrived. “Do you have any idea who might have killed Diane?” He blinks kind of owlishly a couple of times, something like surprise showing on his face.
