“I was checking on loose ends.”
“Yeah, everyone figured that’s where you went.” Eights puffed out a breath. “I didn’t patch in as a Saint to jump down another brother’s ass. I won’t do that now.” He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “They were drinking before the girls showed up, you know how it is.”
I nodded, wanting Eights to talk faster and knowing I’d have to wait him out.
“Scorpion joked about Roxy, and he didn’t let up. By the time the girls came, they were so drunk, they thought it would be hilarious to save you the raven-haired chick for the night. Some brothers figured if you’d walk throughthe main door, they’d throw her at you. If you turned her down, they’d get their laugh, but truthfully, we’re all waiting for you to explode.”
“Does this chick know?” I asked, rubbing my eyes, hoping the headache that had been forming would ease for a second. I wasn’t in the mood for another one of Scorpion’s mind games, knowing I had never given him a reason to send me back on the road. Now, he thought he’d found a weakness with Roxy, and in his mind, he’d exploit her until she cracked. If that happened, I’d snap.
“No. They fed her a line of bullshit, but she’s four times Roxy’s size. There’s no way in fucking hell you’re going to take her to your room. She’s pretty enough, but your head isn’t in it. If you go through the back, no one will know you’re here.”
My jaw clicked, my back molars gritting hard, which didn’t help my headache. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it,” I said. It was another problem I had to solve, but at least the solution was easy. I was walking off when he reached out and grabbed my arm.
“Is there anything we need to worry about?” He didn’t mention the video, but I knew what he was really asking. “Roxy’s recognizable if you know her, but the mother tagged the saloon.”
“Have you ever been up north? There’s a bar in Williams that’s Bear Canyon Disciples territory. Mesquite used to be friendly with them,” I asked Eights.
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. I was still a prospect, but I’ve heard most of the stories.”
“Roxy worked their bar.”
“No fucking shit.” Eights blinked hard as his jaw ticked. “I mean, I knew she was tough, but how the fuck did she survive that place?”
“No clue. The first time I went, some club slut was so dirty, I ran. I didn’t want to catch anything, so I slept sitting on my bike,” I answered honestly. “Roxy’s boyfriend prospected with them, and when the president wanted free use, she took off. Landed here.”
“Now, the video is going to bring them here,” Eights speculated.
“We don’t know that, but it could.” It was a lie, and we both knew it. I should have put a little faith in him. He’d done me a solid, but I’d become such a lone wolf that I was used to withholding information until necessary. The lie had rolled off my tongue naturally, and I’d never deny it. I said nothing else, but we both knew they were going to come. They would need to make an example of her, and it was only a matter of time.
Eights nodded his head, knowing that I wouldn’t give him anything else. “One more thing, and don’t shoot the messenger. There’s another couple of days’ worth of runs. You head out with Tumbleweed tomorrow night.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I was furious. I wanted to head into the main room and start swinging, but they’d only take it out on some chick who thought she was going to get lucky. Taking a few deep breaths, I nodded to Eights. He didn’t have to stick his ass out on the line.
I’d never asked for anything before, and as I tried to form the words, they stuck to the roof of my mouth. I coughed. Tried again. There was no way I could be in two places at once. “If they show… can you make sure he doesn’t throw her into the fire? I won’t be here.”
“Don’t worry about it, brother.” He held out his fist for a bump, and I extended mine. I left him standing in the yard, entering the clubhouse from the back. If I had known I was just going to have to hide, I would have stayed at the shitty motel.
Scorpion had the board set. I was the pawn he needed gone. Getting me out of the picture wasn’t about safety—it was about hero worship. When it hit the fan, he’d be the one standing in front of Angelica and Bri, holding a shield like he’d bled for this family. Meanwhile, Roxy would bleed as collateral damage. My fists clenched. He wouldn’t lose a minute of sleep over it, unless he was fucking some new chick.
It was only a matter of time before the club showed up to claim her, and I wouldn’t be there.
***
No one informed me of the three-day run schedule. They had wanted me to find out two seconds before the run left, so that I would scramble to pack a bag. I could have done it, but I didn’t want to be the butt of anyone’s jokes, especially when this was a test.
Scorpion banged his fist on my door ten minutes before the run was supposed to pull out of the yard, but the joke was on him. I walked out with a packed saddlebag, not saying a word. My middle finger itched, but I refrained from flicking them all off as I strolled towards my bike. They wanted a reaction, but I delivered the punchline when I didn’t give them anything.
Tumbleweed was on my left as we drove through the gates, and the select brothers on this run didn’t annoy me like some others. It was bad timing, but this could have been worse.
The first run was a repeat cargo security for El Sombra Roja. We met three cargo trucks in the middle of the desert, driving with them to the warehouse near the New Mexico border. No surprises this time, but the cartel didn’t schedule cargo deliveries this close together. I suspected El Filo Negro had news for me—the kind he didn’t want to deliver over the phone.
The trucks stopped in the middle of the road before they made the turn into the warehouse’s driveway. We circled around them, parking our bikes in the paved area that housed visitors. Bike after bike filled the lot, and I waited with the rest of the brothers as the first truck backed up into an overhead door to be unloaded. The other drivers turned off their trucks to wait. As long as they were in the driveway, we were in the clear. No one would challenge the cartel out here, assuming they even knew where to look.
“I hope that one brunette is here,” a brother said, smacking his lips.
“It’ll take you an hour to get it up, so what good will that do her?” someone else retorted.
I wasn’t paying attention to the brothers’ antics.
