Locke took that as goodbye and left. A few seconds later, his Dyna rumbled to life. He roared away and I couldn’t help picturing him burning up the A-road with a guitar strapped to his back. It was more Nash’s style than his, but Locke could make anything work.
We were living proof.
26
NASH
My uncle brought me to the club when I was sixteen. He told me there were two basic rules for survival:
Never blink, no matter what you see.
Die before you rat.
There were other lessons, but those two stayed with me the most, and they held me up now as I faced down one of the most fucked-up things I’d ever heard. “Say it again,” I ground out, fists pressed to a table that had once belonged in a classroom, my voice a low growl I barely recognised. “I didn’t hear you right.”
Across the table, Bear the Mechanic didn’t falter. Except it wasn’t Bear the Mechanic. It was some other cunt with his face. He didn’t even sound the same.
Because he’s an undercover fed.
Fuck. I didn’t need him to repeat it.
Smug bastard did anyway. Then he leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hairy hand over the jaw I’d broken with my fist.
Shoulda killed him.
By the look on Cam’s face, he felt the same. “What do youwant?”
“You know what I want,” Bear said, his real voice devoid of the thick-as-mince grunt he’d become known for. “Don’t pretend this is the first time you and I have had this conversation.”
Brutal rage rolled off Cam in waves. He gripped the table, and I knew it was taking every ounce of control he had not to pick it up and launch it at this prick. “You told me you were a copper. I told you to go fuck yourself.”
“And I toldyou, that’s not an option. Not anymore.”
“You don’t have shit on us.” A bluff, but Cam had to make it. He had tobelieveit or we were both fucked. “If you did, you’d have nicked us already. Not dragged us here for an unfriendly chat.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a chat while your organisation isn’t our target. That can easily change, Mr O’Brian.”
Cam lit a cigarette.
Passed it to me and sparked another. “Your target isn’t important to us. We don’t know anything about anything, and we’ve got no fucking friends.”
Bear—not his name—cocked his head. “And why’s that? Did you leave them at the bottom of the sea?”
“Get seasick, mate,” Cam deadpanned. “And I don’t have a fucking boat.”
“Neither does Mario Sambini anymore.”
“Never heard of him.”
A stalemate stretched out. Feigning boredom, I glanced around the remote office complex Cam had led me to. Cheap to build with shoddy materials, it wasn’t unlike the Crow’s prefab torture complex, just without the blood stains and meat hooks.
Nausea rocked me.
I fought hard for my poker face.
Won.
“All right.” The other copper in the room cleared his throat and finally spoke. “Let’s cut the shit. Leaving aside the fact that a serving police officer wasassaultedon your premises, we know what you are and at least some of how you’ve spent your time over the last decade. But you’re right, we don’t have enough evidence on any of you to secure a prosecution, and we’re happy for it to stay that way.However, we’d want something in return.”
