“Come on, man. You’re scaring the staff,” Stoney called out. “Sierra ain’t in there. Let’s go back to the clubhouse and find something to get your mind off her for a little while. What do you say?”
Wrath paused, and for a moment I thought he might surrender.
“Sierra!” Wrath howled like a lost wolf pup.
Sierra was Raquel’s best friend (Orion’s woman), and had disappeared into the ether to work on some sort of top-secret assignment and Wrath was losing his shit over it. The details of the mission were on a need-to-know basis, and he was not on the list of those who needed-to-know. Wrath was spiraling and Sundance was gonna need to reel him in or he was gonna do somethin’ rash. The only person, other than Sierra, who could talk Wrath down off the ledge was Scrappy, and it had taken him close to an hour to load his ass into the club van so that Scrap could drive him home.
“Jekyll!” Stoney bellowed as we walked out of the building.
“Yeah?” I replied.
“Some kid’s fuckin’ with your bike.”
“What the fuck?” I growled, pushing forward, and heading down the stairs.
A kid in his teens was currently standing by my Harley attempting to look nonchalant. He was failing. The fuckin’ state of Colorado required we have a mirror on our bikes and this little shit was tryin’ to snap it off.
“Block his exit,” I snapped to my brothers, and made my way to the kid. He hadn’t seen me yet, but the second he turned, his face went ashen, and he tried to run.
Suddenly, Wrath, now having joined in on the fun, caught him by the collar of his denim jacket, practically lifting him off the ground. “Where you goin’ Junior?”
“Let me go,” he squealed.
Wrath handed him off to me and I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck. “What the fuck did you think you were doin’ to my bike, asshole?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His eyes were darting around the parking lot, and I noticed the ass end of another delinquent disappear around the corner. I gave Orion a chin lift and he took off after him.
“You tryin’ to earn cred?” I demanded, shaking him when he didn’t answer. “Huh?”
“No!” he rasped. “Let me go!”
“Who the fuck do you belong to? Where are your parents?” I growled.
“None of your business.”
“Hold him, Wrath,” I said, dragging his hands behind the little punk’s back, kicking the back of his knees. He dropped to the ground, and I made quick work of patting him down, pulling out a ratty ass wallet with a school ID card, and a flip phone that was at least ten years old.
“Leon Croft,” I read out.
“Nobody calls me Leon.”
“Oh, yeah? What do they call you?” I asked. “Dipshit?”
He scowled but didn’t respond.
I raised an eyebrow. “Says here, you’re a sophomore at Ace Academy.”
Ace Academy was an alternative high school in Monument and the students there typically had anger issues, among other problems.
I flipped open his phone and the first number that came up was someone named Indigo. “This your girlfriend? Or your sister?”
He shook his head, saying nothing, which indicated to me that he might not be as stupid as he looked. I dialed the number.
“Dude, please don’t call her,” Leon begged.
Too late.
