“Stay out of my business, or I might have to pay a visit to a certain new waitress. She’s fair game.” The words shot through me, forcing me to take a step back, but the truck grill didn’t allow me to move. The woman screeched with pleasure in my ear as my teeth ground against each other. Scorpion had done it on purpose, knowing exactly how it would land. Roxy was in his sights, and she’d never see it coming until it was too late.
“Cargo’s burned,” I said, hanging up the phone as two loud moans reached my ears. Normally, listening in was hot, but I was so disgusted, it didn’t even make me hard. Backing my butt against the truck’s grill, I bent over, trying to gather my thoughts.
“He’s busy, huh?” Tumbleweed leaned against the truck next to me. “He’s doing that a lot. Focusing on his dick.” He spat the snuff to the side before tucking the chew back into his cheek. “Did he say anything about this clusterfuck?”
I shook my head, not sure how much I wanted to reveal.
“He’s spiraling, man. Everyone sees it. No one talks about it. Ang deserves happiness, and it ain’t with him.”
Tumbleweed’s candor was throwing me off. No one said anything derogatory about Scorpion, either as a man or as our president. It just wasn’t something that was done. I had had my suspicions for a while that there was dissent among the ranks. “Yeah, well, if she finds someone decent, I won’t let him stand in her way.” I slugged Tumbleweed in the arm. “Don’t get any fucking bright ideas.”
He laughed. “Nah, and I won’t go for your girl either.”
Roxy wasn’t mine, but I didn’t feel like fighting. “What do you want to do?” I asked him. “I’m inclined to leave the bikers here. They’re dead already. Let the heat do the cleanup. We have a picture of their tattoos.”
“Something’s off. I played good cop. This is El Sombra Roja’s shipment, and his men are normally better than this. The truckers don’t even know what they’recarrying. Someone had already loaded the cargo and told them to drive. That’s why they didn’t know the men behind them weren’t us.”
“I can’t see this being a double-cross with the Red Shadow. Someone said he was taking care of business in California, and that’s why he asked for full service with us. It could be delivery as normal if we show up at the warehouse.” I scratched my beard. I’d rather take my chances meeting the Grim Reaper than show up at the clubhouse without the payment.
***
I was sitting on a stack of crates, dangling my legs back and forth as I watched the cartel inventory their cargo. Once we’d threatened the truck drivers to within an inch of their lives, the trip here had been uneventful. We’d surrounded them for protection. No one had been on the road, and when we rode up to the warehouse, it was business as usual. It made me wonder if the cartel knew about the bikers, or if this had just been a one-off we’d need to ask around about. There were too many directions, and I didn’t like not having a concrete clue.
“Amigo,” a heavy accent said from behind me. I was on high alert, swiveling my head to see who it was as I reached for my gun. I opened and closed my hand, searching for the piece, before I remembered I hadn’t brought it. We’d left our pieces in our saddlebags out of respect for our clients.
“What are you doing on this side of the border?” I asked, settling down when the man stepped into the light. Javier Rodriguez, El Filo Negro, was a cartel nepo baby if I ever saw one. A gold chain that was at least two inches thick hung around his neck, dipping into the open collar of his five-hundred-dollar dress shirt. Cufflinks, not buttons, because a shirt that expensive cried out for the proper hardware. A suit that screamed cartel and shoes that were polished to the hilt.
“I’m ready to go home. I hate this heat, but duty calls, so here I am.” He laughed, sitting on the cargo’s corner nearest him.
“Seriously? It’s the same heat.” I raised an eyebrow, not sure who he thought he was fooling.
“It doesn’t feel the same. The sweat drips down my back, and then there’s a nasty wet stain between my ass cheeks.” He shuddered.
I shook my head, not really believing I was discussing sweat with the Black Blade. He’d pull his gun out from behind him, only to kill his enemy with the slip of his wrist.
“Most of your brothers are with the girls, getting their fill before dinner. I had my chef grill steaks. Can’t have our allies riding home with empty stomachs and full balls.” He laughed again, crossing his arms over his barrel chest.
It was easier to change the subject, instead of offending him. I wasn’t interested in emotionless sex, and there was nothing I could say that wouldn’t reveal where my head was at. “I heard your uncle had business in California.”
“He’s strengthening connections.” Javier leaned his elbow against his right thigh as his leg dangled. “Might as well spit it out, amigo.”
I’d been a twenty-year-old kid, still riding with the Tombstone chapter, when I’d met Javier for the first time. He’d taken the omerta at fifteen, and while we weren’t friends, I could stand to have a conversation with him every once in a while. A stillness settled between us as we watched his men unload the first truck.
“You know the Saints will never take over for the cartel. We’re happy to take our piece of the pie.” I didn’t know how much I wanted to reveal, but I figured I might get some answers about today’s fucked-up pickup.
“What happened?” Javier’s leg still dangled as if he were content, but I only had to look at him to know he was really on high alert.
“We handled it, and I’ve already called Scorpion. He won’t ask for more payment.” I laid the groundwork, ensuring there was no animosity. The brothers would bitch if they didn’t get to finish with the women the cartel kept upstairs for visitors. “There were four bikers riding behind your trucks when they met us at the checkpoint. We took care of them, but your drivers thought they were us, and there were some…misunderstandings.”
“The drivers are still alive, so they couldn’t have given you much fight.”
“There was nothing we couldn’t handle.” It didn’t matter what I said, he’d punish them and their handlers.
He made a noise as he rubbed his thumb against his bottom lip. “I’ll put out some feelers and get back to you on what the actual story was. They should have known better.” He’d beat the men involved within an inch of their lives until he got answers.
“Appreciate it.” I pulled out my phone, bringing up the picture of the phoenix. “The bikers all had this on their wrists. Mean anything to you?”
“There’s been rumors of a new biker gang. Yes, gang, before you say anything. They haven’t been brave enough to fuck around and find out, but they hit a few of the lower-end street dealers. We don’t protect them, since they’re the bottom feeders. Send me the logo, and I’ll see what I can find.”
