The second we pulled up outside the clubhouse; I slid off Push’s bike and pulled the helmet free.
Anchor had barely killed his engine before I spoke.
“I’m ready.”
He looked over at me.“For what?”
“To hear everything.”I held the helmet against my hip and lifted my chin.“Whatever is going on with this island, whatever happened to Bob, whatever dead bodies you’ve been collecting like the world’s worst hobby, I need to know all of it.”
Pearl’s eyes widened slightly.
Push stood beside me, close but not touching.
Anchor studied me for a long second.Then he nodded toward the clubhouse.“Then let’s talk.”
Inside, the common room was already filling.
Lost stood near the bar with a coffee mug in hand, looking like he’d rather be drinking whiskey even though it wasn’t noon yet.Vin sat at the table with a laptop open in front of him.Cross leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.Pull, Post, Wannabe, and Piney were scattered around the room.
Shay was curled up on one end of the couch, but she sat up straighter the second we came in.Prime appeared from the hallway a minute later and went straight to her side.
Again, there was that automatic pull between them.Like gravity.Pearl and Anchor had the same thing.
I tried not to stare, but mostly failed.
Anchor motioned toward the big table.“Sit.”
I sat.Not because I liked being ordered around, but because my head still hurt, and standing on principle sounded exhausting.
Push took the chair beside me.
That surprised me more than it should’ve.Close enough that if I shifted six inches, my arm would brush his.
I kept my eyes forward and pretended that didn’t register.
Anchor stayed standing at the head of the table.
Pearl sat near him.
Everyone else found spots around us, and for the first time since I walked into their lives like an angry tornado, the Kings of Anarchy looked ready to tell me the truth.
Or at least their version of it.
Anchor started.“First body showed up near the lower dock during a busy night.Man we didn’t recognize.Mouth sewn shut.KOAMC carved into his chest.”
My stomach tightened.
I knew that carved-in-the-chest detail should’ve been shocking.
It was, but somehow the sewn mouth bothered me more.“Kings of Anarchy Motorcycle Club,” I said quietly.
Anchor nodded once.“Message was clear enough.”
Skull took over from near the bar.“We got Doc to look at him.Strangled.Mouth sewn after death.Carving was postmortem too.”
The older man leaning over me after stitching my head.“Doc is your doctor?”
“Sort of,” Piney said.
