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I gave him a swift nod because I didn’t know that I could say those words aloud and claim they were truthful.

Ryan

Gunner warned me not to give anything away at this meeting since Pres didn’t feel I was trustworthy. Not that I blamed him. Until Gunner, I didn’t trust anyone outside of Los Muertos and Nikki. How ironic. Now Los Muertos members were who I shouldn’t trust.

“Ryan, so glad to see you up. As you can imagine, I have some questions about what the fuck happened last night,” Pres called out as I entered.

I eyed where he sat behind a large wooden desk, looking for his tells. His face and body language didn’t give a thing away. The man was a statue.

Color me mildly impressed.

He sat there waiting out my silence, assessing me the same way I assessed him. Mario would’ve already stabbed someone for not answering. It’s why I did all the interrogating for Los Muertos. Dead men give little information.

My arms folded across my chest as I leaned against a wooden chair.

“With all due respect, I don’t owe you shit. I didn’t call you for help. Your club members decided to do that of their own volition.” I pressed my palms to his desk, leaning in so we were at eye level. “Really, I think it’s me who should be asking you for an explanation. Like why is it you decided to bring me to the clubhouse and not call in Los Muertos? What is it you know that you wanted to keep hidden?” I prodded, smirking when I caught Gunner and Dex stiffen.

Gunner said to play it off like I didn’t know anything. Well, this would’ve been the answer and attitude I gave if I’d woken up at an MC and hadn’t been told shit. My acting skills were giving authenticity, and those boys should be appreciative, because the only people being suspicious were them.

Pres and I locked eyes, neither willing to break contact. I won most dick-measuring contests. Pretty good for someone who didn’t have a dick. When he realized I wasn’t going to relent or cower, Pres broke out in a cold smile. Not quite threatening, but definitely not kind either. That didn’t matter to me; I wasn’t here to be liked.

“You may not be Sergio’s blood, but damn if you aren’t just like the bastard. I’ll take your reaction as a sign that you didn’t orchestrate any of last night’s events.” He gestured for me to sit. “We brought you back here instead of calling Los Muertos because we wanted to be sure we could trust who we were working with,” Pres answered, his gaze cutting over to the wall where the boys were standing.

“Seems these two believe you aren’t going to betray us. Boys, I need a moment alone with Ryan here.”

“Pres…” Gunner all but growled out his name.

The two locked eyes, and I could see the ticking of Gunner’s jaw as he clenched his teeth. After a moment, his eyes cut over to me, his facial features softening. I could read the unspoken question on his face and gave a slight nod toward the door. Pres waited for the door to close behind them before continuing the conversation.

“Now, to get to current affairs. We have a gun run today. One Gunner says you claim not to know about,” Pres stated.

“That’s right. I wasn’t brought into the loop on the details of this run. Let me guess, Mario was the one who contacted you about today’s run?” I meant to come across as nonchalant, but I could hear the irritation in my voice.

Pres nodded his head and steepled his fingers. He was now looking at me with a curious gaze. Like hearing me speak about Mario in such a tone gave him something else to consider.

“Yes, Mario reached out to me. Said we were needed for a run, two crates full of guns going to a buyer on the outskirts of Tucson. He told me the guns would be loaded up in a box truck, and only two men were needed. Strangely enough, he only had one specific name he asked to be present…”

“Gunner,” I supplied.

He nodded his head at my answer. “Also mentioned this was his client. No need to contact you for information because you wouldn’t be involved.” He eyed me, seeing if I was picking up on all the unspoken allegations. It wasn’t wise to bite the hand that fed you, especially if the hand was the Los Muertos Cartel, so this was Pres’s way of sussing out information.

“Who decided the route?” I asked, keeping my tone light and my face blank. His answer would determine the direction of our conversation.

“Mario. He said the destination and route would be on the map he provided.”

A chill ran up my spine at Pres’s words. Mario was sending Gunner through Reaper territory on purpose. I had more questions than answers. Mario was a possessive bastard, but this prompted the question of how Mario knew Gunner had taken an interest in me. The meeting at Lotería was the first time Mario had seen Gunner and me together, and it was his lap he’d forced me to sit on.

Memories of the texts I received on fight night flashed in my mind.

After last night and this morning’s revelations, there was a nagging voice in my head wondering if Mario could be the one involved with the Reapers. But that didn’t make any sense. Los Muertos was his. If it was a business deal with the Reapers he wanted, he could arrange that. All the cloak and dagger shit was unnecessary.

Maybe the ringleader was a disgruntled Muerto? But I didn’t think there were any who would have enough money to fund the Reapers. My hand came up and pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to sort through which problem to solve first.

After a few seconds, I locked eyes with Pres. I didn’t like to waste time thinking about the what-ifs and what-to-dos. I was a take-action type of bitch, and to execute my next plan, Pres needed this nugget of information. My gut told me he was loyal to his brothers, and I could trust him. But I wasn’t naive; I didn’t matter to him and would need to stay useful, or he would leave my ass behind.

“Send Dex with Gunner today. I’ve got a feeling Mario is hoping Gunner will run into problems, and Dex is who Gunner trusts to have his back. I plan on throwing another wrench in the fucker’s plan,” I stated.

“I can do that. Just know, I’m telling those boys they’re free to handle threats however they see fit.”