“That’s my guess as well,” Brock said, though part of him sounded like he agreed with me partially so he wouldn’t feel like I was the only person coming up with this information. “He also obviously has started funding the Bandits, but he’s also got a group in Las Vegas called the King’s Men.”
“How creative.”
Brock shrugged.
“You don’t need to be creative when you’re a man of great wealth and power.”
Wasn’t that the damn truth. Steele and Mason passed us by, but neither of them seemed fazed by our conversation. I suspected that Brock had spoken to them already or that he’d told them private conversations were coming.
“And he’s also got a group called Death’s Patriots in Arizona,” he said. “Where he gets his wealth from or where he started is unknown, but that he’s got enough money to fund three different groups at once—to say nothing of whatever non-MC crime he’s involved with, maybe some mafia, maybe some police corruption, who knows—clearly indicates that he’s a man to be respected and feared.”
Wealth.For whatever reason, the word hadn’t triggered anything until Brock said it just now. But immediately, it brought back the text message Justine had sent about a week ago. Some weirdo asking about wealthy clients…
I had to get in touch with Justine and tell her about this conversation with Brock. I had to tell her to be on the lookout.
Because if King was extending his reach outside the small towns of the Southwest into the major metropolises—not that anyone would mistake Albuquerque as a major city, but it was still the largest city he would have operations in besides Vegas—that was a bad sign. Even if this creeper wound up doing nothing to Justine, there was nothing to say others wouldn’t.
“And he’s getting bolder, too,” I said. “Justine said she was approached by some guy claiming to represent a wealthy client, asking for private medical care.”
Brock arched an eyebrow.
“Are you sure that’s just not some dude looking to get his rocks off with some doctor-patient sexual fantasy?”
“I mean…”
Brock wasn’t wrong to raise the point. We’d all acted a little on edge with our women, and with good reason. Tara had nearly been raped by Derek; Elizabeth had gotten caught in a shootout; Hannah was too close to Mason not to know the world; Katie had gotten kidnapped by Damian. It was practically an occupational hazard to date one of us.Justine might just have a point wanting to keep the Black Reaper part away from her.
But there was a huge difference between an actual Bandit stalking someone versus some creep in a suit looking to stroke himself while a doctor took off her jacket.
“It seems like an enormous coincidence, and you know how I feel about coincidences,” I said.
“Fair enough,” Brock said. “We’ve already warned our women to be more alert than usual.”
I nodded.
“What about Death’s Patriots or the King’s Men?” I said. “Do we need to worry about them? Do we need to plan for a fight on two sides?”
Brock shook his head.
“That’s not our concern. If it spills into Albuquerque, we’ll take the fight to them. Otherwise, we’ve got our hands full.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “But what if we get asked for help? What if we decide to go for King, knowing that we need to kill the source to prevent more things from happening?”
Brock waved a dismissive hand.
“The California Reapers have had peace since they won their battle,” he said. “King picks and chooses his spots from what we see.”
“They’ve had peace so far.”
Brock looked none too pleased with what I’d said. I didn’t really care, to be frank. It wasn’t my job to give him good news. It was my job to be Professor Smartass and think about things that other people hadn’t yet considered.
“And besides, if we stand here and say we’re going to be isolationist, we’re only doing what the California Reapers are, just for someone else.”
Brock now looked genuinely pissed off. I didn’t think he was pissed at me, but I think he realized his perfectly laid plans to get the California Reapers over to help and for us to win the war once and for all and live in peace were going up in flames.
If it made him feel any better, whatever peace the California Reapers had, I would suspect they would soon realize that was no longer the case. If we were lucky, King was as high as the trouble went. If we weren’t lucky…
Well, some things required you to be dumb if you didn’t want to fall into serious angst.
