“You think Neo hasn’t dotted all his I’s and crossed his T’s?” He shakes his head. “I know you want to see justice served, but you can’t expect to go up against an organization like The Sainthood and win?”
It hasn’t escaped my notice that he didn’t balk at my claim or dispute it. Diesel believes they killed Dad too, and not for the first time, I wonder exactly who he is.
“I won’t know unless I try.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Can you get me the paperwork or not?”
“You won’t let this drop, will you?”
I smirk. “You know me well.”
He sighs heavily. “I don’t like this, Lo. I don’t like this one bit. I don’t want you getting yourself killed, so I’ll agree to get it for you—on one condition. You promise you won’t go snooping by yourself. We do it together.”
“Why are you so invested?”
He threads his fingers through mine. “You may have forgotten the scared little girl you used to be, but I haven’t. I made a vow to myself when your dad brought you to me. That I’d keep you safe and never let anything or anyone harm you again. I intend on keeping that vow.” He stands, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I need you to promise, Lo.”
I look up at him, seeing nothing but concern and compassion. “I promise,” I say, hoping I can keep it.
_______________
After Diesel leaves, I spend some time going through Dad’s files, the uncoded ones, looking for something of interest I can give to Darrow. My ex is really starting to get on my nerves, and his harassment is pressing my buttons. Fact is, the guys are home so infrequently I’m getting fucking nothing from the cameras. They don’t even sleep in the house some nights. I’m beginning to lose confidence in my ability to identify the location of the warehouse for Dar. The meet is set up with his contact for tomorrow, and I really don’t give much of a fuck after that. But Dar has already proven how nasty he can be when he feels betrayed, so I want to give him something to ease the sting. I have enough shit on my plate without adding more petty squabbles to the list.
And speaking of petty squabbles, I dig through Parker’s background, in the hope of finding some dirt, but I come up empty-handed. Guess I’ll need to dig deeper. Everyone has something they want to hide, and a girl like Parker must have a treasure chest full of secrets. I’ll discover where she’s hiding the truth and crack that beast wide open.
I spend the rest of the night scanning the coded files to an encrypted cloud folder, feeling more assured now I have a backup, in case anything should happen to the originals. On instinct, I copy a few confidential files from dad’s other folders onto a USB stick, disguised as a tube of lipstick, and slip it into my purse. No harm in having some insurance in case I should need it.
The next morning, before I head to the meet, I message Sariah to get together at the gym downtown. Although my body still throbs like a bitch, I seriously need to vent some pent-up anger, and going a few rounds in the ring with my bestie is the perfect cure.
_______________
I pull upto the biker bar on the outskirts of Prestwick and park out front. Wiping my sweaty hands down the side of my jeans, I double-check the coordinates Darrow’s guy sent to me. I’m in the right place, and it doesn’t surprise me that this shady fucker conducts business here.
I walk from my car with purpose, stepping into the dimly lit bar, aware of several sets of eyes looking in my direction. My knife is strapped to the outside of my thigh on purpose, and my gun is tucked into the waistband of my jeans. I’m glad I dressed down for this meeting because I fit right in with my dirty jeans, scuffed boots, rocker tee, and black leather jacket. I approach the bar. “I’m looking for Johnny. Darrow Knight hooked me up.”
“Wait here,” the bleached blonde says in an unfriendly tone, throwing me a look before ducking behind the bar.
I stare straight ahead, ignoring the eyeballs glued to my back and the inquisitive stares from the two older dudes sitting at the counter.
Blondie returns with an even bigger scowl on her face. “Back there,” she huffs, jabbing her thumb behind her.
I walk through the swinging double doors into a small private room. The three guys inside stop talking, watching me as I step forward. “Which one of you is Johnny?” I ask, grateful my voice holds steady.
“That’d be me, darlin’,” the guy slouched on the couch, rolling a joint, says, giving me a blatant onceover. “Come join me.” His hair is dark with strips of gray. It’s unkempt, falling into his big brown eyes and matching the straggly beard that runs from his chin to his chest. Laughter lines crease the corners of his eyes and his mouth, and his weather-beaten tan skin attests to countless hours outside. His belly tumbles over his belt, and his arms and legs are chunky.
I sit down on the couch and face him, waiting for his next move.
“Why’s a pretty girl like you in need of the services of an old coot like me?” he asks, lighting his joint.
“It’s better that you don’t know,” I say, removing the envelope from my back pocket. “That’s the down payment you requested.”
“Chewie!” He jerks his head at the guy with the waist-length hair and long thick beard. “Do the honors.”
Chewie takes the envelope and counts the cash. “It’s all there, boss.”
Johnny nods, and Chewie backs away, sliding the envelope into the inside pocket of his plaid shirt.
“My guy’ll need to take photos,” he says, blowing smoke circles in my face. “I’ll send you the details of the location once I set it up. Then, it’ll take two weeks to get all the IDs together.”
“That’s fine.”
