“Did you ask to be put in this run so you could oversee this and not tell me?” I demand.
Handlebar turns to face me. He’s pissed at the question, but he bites his tongue.
“My Road Captain told me I was replacing a brother who was sick. Until the moment that man rolled up on us, I had as much knowledge about what was in that van as you did. Less even. I didn’t question what you were moving.”
We stare at one another in silence. He’s defiant, but he knows his place. All he’s told me pertains to what I asked.
“This Veil Line. You still a part of it?”
He sighs and looks in that same direction as before. “Not for a long time. But I never forgot it.”
“They can be trusted?”
His eyes narrow. “What are you suggesting?”
“There is a lot of dark shit in this world. And I’m not talking about the MC world.”
He rolls his shoulders, relaxing. “They’re the real deal. The people who introduced me to them trusted them.” He pauses and rubs a hand over his hair. His next words are begrudging, like he is tired of this conversation. “There are no guarantees. Once they’re gone, they disappear forever.”
“You went on blind faith?”
Handlebar stares at me. Something flashes in his eyes, briefly, and then it’s gone but I don’t miss it. Whatever he did, or how he did it, he’s going to keep to himself. Somehow, he knows the women going through this line are safe and not being lost into further trouble.
“It takes a lot to find the network. Very few women end up in their hands. I wish they could help more but the way they work guarantees the ones they do help, stay gone.”
“They cherry pick who deserves it more?” I frown.
“They handle high danger cases. Like I said, they’re hard to find.”
Makes me wonder how the hell a guy like Marshall found them. Again, a slither of guilt runs through me at the thought of us putting his sister on her knees with a gun to her head, if what Handlebar is saying is true, there is no way to know how bad her situation was.
Turning away, I look out to the highway. Traffic is sparse, it’s getting late and will start to go dark soon. I’m not comfortable hanging around here, if there are any watchers they will want to know what the fuck we’re doing.
“Head out. Unless you were planning something else?”
“We already covered this,” he sighs.
I don’t say anything more and walk to my bike. We’re not going to ride in any kind of formation given there are only two of us, but Handlebardoes keep behind me as we make our way to the Hamilton chapter clubhouse.
He goes his own way as I greet Ragnar, the President. We don’t know each other given I was a Kingsmen for years and I can tell the minute I step foot in the clubhouse that this chapter of the Devil’s Chaos may be playing at being welcoming, but they’re not on board like the Sussex chapter.
There is a tension in the air that I don’t particularly like but after a brief word with Ragnar, he assures me he’s spoken with King more than enough times over this and we wouldn’t be here if he was concerned. He does tag on so long as I keep my men in line.
Yeah, it’s his men I’m worried about. Especially given the club whores are showing interest in my men, that is sure to get their backs up. Which is why I told them to drink in moderation and not ruffle any feathers. The men I brought along aren’t the kind to act out.
No matter how much I resent it, it’s necessary to keep the peace here. For every step forward I take with King, it’s a fucking mountain to climb with the other chapters.
Handlebar doesn’t seem to have any issues chatting, greeting some of them like they’re old friends. I’m glad to see that some of my men are at least trying. Talon gets up when he sees me sitting at the end of the bar alone and heads over. He eyes a few of the men as he passes them but keeps his face impassive.
He asks for a beer and the prospect grabs one and slides it across the surface, more roughly than is necessary. If Talon’s reflexes weren’t what they are, it would have slid off the bar and smashed.
I shift in the seat and glare at him. We may not be overly welcome here but I’m still a President of one of the chapters and this is my VP a prospect is disrespecting.
“That better have been a slip of your hand,” I say in a low voice.
“You need to learn some respect Prospect, this is a President.” Talon leans forward over the bar, the prospect gulps and looks like he is about to shit his pants. “I’d remember that before you go listening to the gossip of members over an officer.”
The music is loud enough that we’re not drawing too much attention but as I lift the beer to my mouth, I notice a few people looking over.Including Ragnar, who nods at the kid when he turns to his President. It’s barely imperceptible but I see it.
