“No,” I said. “But we were trying to get the hell out of there.”
“Did you remember anything else about her?”
“Pretty. Gorgeous. Long dark hair, pulled back. Full lips. Cleft chin. Eyes… dark. Can’t tell you if they were brown or blue, but definitely on the dark side.”
“Build?”
I shrugged at that.
“On the taller side. Five-eight, maybe. Fit, but not thin. She had hips and tits. All black outfit. Leather jacket.”
“Leather jacket,” Sway repeated. “Wasn’t it warm that night?”
It had been.
“You know chicks, though,” Sway said, shrugging. “They tend to run colder than us.”
“What is it?” Slash asked, watching me, as we heard a couple of bikes rumble up toward the club.
Which also had me stiffening.
“The jacket wasn’t something a woman would have bought herself.”
“Why?”
“It wasn’t a woman’s jacket,” I recalled, thinking of the closure. “The zipper was on the right.”
“What?” Slash asked.
“Women’s zippers and buttons are on the left side,” I explained. “Men’s are on the right. Hers were on the right. And the jacket looked old. Worn. Well-loved. And too big for her.”
“Boyfriend, maybe,” Sway suggested.
There was no logical reason for the way my stomach twisted. So I went ahead and ignored that shit.
“Maybe,” I agreed.
“Connected to the club somehow?” Raff said.
The door opened, then and in walked Rook, Judge, and Coach.
“Tell me you got something,” Slash said.
Because he was looking for vengeance.
Not for the sideways deal, but because one of Roach’s men thought they could try to kill me.
Negotiations and fights, that was shit that could be forgiven.
Attempted murder?
Not so much.
They’d have to pay for it.
But we needed to know more about them first.
It wasn’t like we fully vetted every organization that bought guns from us. It wasn’t necessary. So we just knew the basics about these guys. Bikers. President named Roach. A general area. That was it.
