“Very nice to meet you, Hope. I’m sure we’ll talk more later.” He glances at me. “Go get settled. Meet us down here at five.”
“All right.”
I check with Wrath before leading Hope upstairs. She’s bright-eyed and buzzing with nervous energy. “Who knew outlaw bikers held a convention like this.” She places her hands on her hips. “I find it hard to believe there won’t be a single muffler bunny, though.”
“Oh, they’ll show up. Don’t worry. Just because we didn’t bring any doesn’t mean others left them behind.” I give her a more serious appraisal. “Sure you’re okay with this?”
“I’m great. It’ll be nice to meet other experienced old ladies besides Tawny. I like Mallory a lot, but she’s part of a different club, so I’m not totally comfortable talking with her.”
“Same rules apply here. Don’t talk about shit I tell you with anyone. King’s ol’ lady or not.”
Her face scrunches into a pissy expression that I probably enjoy too much. “Gee, that hadn’t occurred to me.”
“Especially Valentina.”
She rolls her eyes. “I figured.”
“Get over here.”
She thrusts her chin up. “No.”
“Don’t mess with me right now. I don’t have time to fuck you properly.”
“Then do it improperly,” she sasses back. She grabs her stuff and dashes for the bedroom, knowing I can’t resist chasing her down.
Pinning my wife to the shower wall and fucking the hell out of her was the only way to prepare for this meeting.
I’m certainly calmer.
This is just a brief introductory meeting where Priest and the other board members will lay out their expectations for the weekend.
Numbers. Recruitment.
I’m sure that will come up a lot.
All the patched members fill up one huge meeting room. Wrath, Z, and I end up toward the front of the room against the right wall.
Wrath leans down. “Blink’s already given me the heads-up he wants a private sit-down.”
“How fun for you.”
His mouth twists in annoyance. Yeah, Wrath enjoys being told what to do about as much as I do. But an invitation from the national sergeant at arms can’t exactly be ignored.
“I’m sure I’ll get my own grilling from Priest. So don’t feel too special.”
“Niner’s looking old.” Z bumps me with his elbow and jerks his chin toward our national vice president. “Betcha he’s planning to retire soon and Priest’ll be looking for a replacement. Prez of the most successful charter’s where he’ll probably start.”
I growl out my irritation at what Z’s implying. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Priest slams down his gavel and the room falls silent. He remains quiet, which is a good sign that this meeting will be as short as he promised.
“First, I need to give everyone a heads-up. Not that you’ll be leaving the property much or have time for other activities, but there’s a heavy law enforcement presence this weekend. Came in special just for us.”
A few jeers and curses from the brothers in the crowd.
“Yeah,” Priest agrees. “However, we are not to engage. Do not give them a reason to take you into custody. As usual, they’re gonna be checking registrations and looking for stolen parts.” He levels a cool stare at us. “But I know that won’t be a problem for any of my brothers. Lost Kings are not thieves.”
Lots of clubs were built on dealing in stolen motorcycles and parts. Our charter has never been about that. Weapons back in the day, sure. Drugs, yup. A little murder from time to time—comes with the territory. But something about stealing another man’s bike always seemed too dishonorable to build an empire on.
I’m not one hundred percent positive our other charters operate the same way. Hell help the poor asshole who can’t produce a clean registration this weekend.
After making himself clear on that point, Priest continues. “Local cops have teamed up with the Feds.”
Louder groans and cursing fills the room.
“Yeah.” The bite in Priest’s tone shuts everyone up so he can finish explaining. “They’re looking to identify patch-holders in leadership positions and what territory each one of you came from. I fully expect this to spill over to ol’ ladies as well. I’m gonna assume any ol’ lady you brought is fully informed of how to conduct herself with outsiders. So, any fuckups are on you.”
Wrath and I share a glance. “Girls are going to some spa tomorrow. Sounds like I better check with Blink that’s okay,” he says.
I nod in Birch’s direction. “Planning to send him with them, but maybe another brother should go too.”
“I’ll find someone.” He moves closer and lowers his voice. “This is fucked up. That’s serious intel he has on what the cops are up to. Not just guesses.”
“I noticed.” Nothing surprises me anymore. Priest’s always been a crafty motherfucker. What I’m more worried about is Hope getting picked up and questioned by the cops for no fucking reason, ruining our trip before it barely gets started.
“Are you sure it’s okay for us to go?” I ask Rock the next morning.
“Yeah. Just remember what I said.”
“Don’t talk to anyone. Stick with Birch and the prospect from Priest’s club.”
“You got it.” He pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. “Have fun, but be careful.”
I pull back. “See, when you put it that way, it makes me nervous again.”
He rumbles with laughter. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. Trinity’s probably waiting for you.”
Trinity, Charlotte, and Heidi are all waiting downstairs with Birch. Rock takes Birch aside, probably to terrorize him.
Wrath ambles up with a prospect who keeps eyeing Wrath like he’s waiting for a beating. “Ladies, this is Stitch. He’ll be joining you and Birch. He’s on loan from Priest’s club, so go easy on him.”
“Thank you, Stitch. I’m sure you planned on doing something a little more fun than following us around all day.”
“No, ma’am. I’m just happy to assist wherever I’m needed.”
Wrath pats him on the head. “Good little prospect.” He makes a circular motion at us with his finger. “All four of them are lethal. Don’t let those pretty faces fool ya.”
I grin at Wrath and pat the outside pocket of my purse where my little pepper spray gun rests.
“What time are the appointments?” I ask Trinity once we’re on the road.
“Don’t worry, we’re on time…” She stops midsentence and stares out the window.
Charlotte and I both turn to see what captured Trinity’s attention. Two of what look like unmarked police cars are stationed just outside the hotel’s grounds. “That can’t be good,” she whispers to me.
“Hopefully they leave us alone,” I mutter.
Trinity shakes it off and turns her phone my way. “Ramsey, party of four, expected in thirty minutes.”
“I don’t even know what we’re having done,” Charlotte says. “I’m just excited to go.”
“Me too,” Heidi adds.
Trinity hmms as she scrolls through her phone. “We’re signed up for their “signature package.” Body scrub and massage. Then we’ll be ready for the big pool party.”
“We definitely have someone following us,” Birch mutters to the prospect. Stitch focuses all his attention on his side mirror for the rest of the ride.
While we were told not to wear our property patches, Birch and Stitch are wearing their cuts. Stitch’s only identifies him as a Lost Kings prospect.
Does identifying who we’re with make us safer or put us more at risk?
The spa is small, but neat and quiet. If Trinity hadn’t arranged things ahead of time, they probably wouldn’t have been able to accommodate the four of us.
Rock’s warning last night that we might be approached by law enforcement has me on edge. The treatments help me unwind and chase away some lingering stiffness in my ba
ck from the ride down.
By the time we’re finished, I’m relaxed and invigorated. Then I’m completely shocked when we’re told everything’s already been paid for.
“Trinity, you didn’t have to do that,” I say.
“Wasn’t me.” She holds her hands up in the air. “I swear. It had to be one of the guys.”
The receptionist hands me a Post-it note with Mr. North scribbled on it. “Awww. It was Rock.”
Trinity nudges me with her elbow and wiggles her eyebrows. “Maybe you should go back and get a Brazilian to thank him.”
“Who says I didn’t?”
“That’s my girl.”
Birch is waiting for us outside watching the front door. He meets us halfway and walks us to the SUV. “Anywhere else today, ladies?”
“Can we find a Walmart or something?” Heidi asks. “I need to grab a few things we forgot.”
“We can do that. Yo, Stitch,” he yells into the truck, “find us a Walmart.”
“Who needs Google Maps?” I quip as I jump in the truck. “Just ask Stitch.”
He gives me a half smile in return.
“Our friend is back,” Birch says as we pull into the Walmart parking lot. No wonder he’s been careful not to drive a hair over the speed limit.
“Don’t they have anything better to do?” I grumble. I put it out of my mind and follow the girls into the store. “Meet you up front? I need to grab some things.”
“Sure.” Heidi has a list of stuff, most of it for Alexa and Murphy. Should keep her busy while I explore the candy aisle.
By “some things” I meant large quantities of chocolate. I should’ve grabbed a cart. I drop a bag of truffles on the floor and as I bend over to grab them, they’re snatched away by a hand I don’t recognize.
Slowly I stand up straight and give the man in front of me a cool look. Something about him raises the hairs on the back of my neck and I step away.
And bang into a body larger than mine.
I turn and look up into another stranger’s face.
Suits and ties. That’s what’s off about these two. They’re dressed like they walked off the set of Men in Black. It’s been in the high-eighties since we arrived in Mississippi. These are the first men I’ve seen wearing black suits.
Feds? Plainclothes police?
By their severe expressions and air of superiority, I assume they’re FBI agents.
My stomach drops. Rock explained Law Enforcement would be sniffing around the meeting, but having two federal agents right in front of me is terrifying.
The only thing I’m guilty of is loving an outlaw.
The thought fires up my temper. Don’t these jerks have any real criminals to harass?
“Excuse me,” I say, pushing past them.
“Where you from, sweetheart?” One of them backs up, blocking my escape again. “That accent isn’t from ’round here.”
If I glare hard enough maybe the two of them will burst into flames. “Neither is yours.”
The first man reaches for me, and I jerk my arm away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Ma’am, if you’re in trouble, we can help.”
My jaw drops. Are they crazy? “You have me confused with someone else. I’m fine.”
“You’re with the Lost Kings motorcycle gang, right?”
Seriously, laser beams of death should shoot out of my eyes any second. “Who are you?” I put my hand on my hip and call up my lawyer-bitch persona. “I know you can’t possibly be law enforcement or you would have identified yourself first.”
The two exchange glances.
My racing heart slows. They’re not specifically here for me, Rock’s wife, otherwise they’d know I was a lawyer. Most likely they saw us leave the hotel earlier and took a chance. Seems rather desperate, but at least they’re not targeting Rock.
“Ma’am, we’re investigating—”
“Fuck. Off.”
“There you are.” Trinity pushes in between the two men and grabs my hand. “Time to go, sister.”
“Wait, we’re here to help.”
Trinity stops and places her hand on her hip. “No, you’re not. You’re trying to get information and you’re looking in the wrong place.” She takes my hand again. “Come on.”
My legs feel like jelly and my heart speeds up again as we practically sprint to the front of the store. Heidi and Charlotte are waiting by the door. Charlotte’s body is tight with tension, while Heidi seems…amused?
“Is Heidi okay? I shouldn’t have left her by herself,” I say to Trinity in a low voice, hoping no one overhears us, because now I’m paranoid.
“She’s fine. One of those fucks tried to ask her some questions and she pretended she was deaf. Pretty damn funny, actually. The sign language classes she’s been taking paid off.” She glances at the conveyor belt with my purchases. “What’s with all the chocolate? That time of the month?” she asks.
“God, I hope not. That would certainly ruin this trip.”
“Speaking of—” She rubs her hands together with evil glee. “—I bought presents for everyone.”
“Can’t wait.”
We finally get through the line and pay for my goodies, but I can’t shake the feeling we’re being watched. Sure enough, when I turn around, those two men are watching us.
“What exactly are they hoping to accomplish?” I ask Trinity.
“Who knows.”
While Heidi’s still amused. Charlotte seems freaked out and keeps glancing over her shoulder.
Completely unruffled, Trinity pushes us out the door. “Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
Birch jumps into action as soon as he sees us, telling the prospect to take our bags and load them into the back of the truck. I take him aside and point out the two agents who accosted us in the store and explained what happened.
He flips two middle fingers in their direction. “Sorry, Hope. I should’ve gone in with you. Rock’s gonna kill me.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, it is. They saw you girls go in alone and it gave them an opening.” His gaze slides Trinity’s way. “Wrath’s probably gonna kick my ass.”
“I think I’m the only one they didn’t approach.” She pats her cheeks and grins. “It must be my resting bitch face.”
I snort and shove her toward the truck.
Money.
That’s what Priest has on his mind as we sit down at the long, gleaming conference table.
How much each charter makes and what percentage they’re kicking up to National.
Now, my club earns well. We send a hefty regular payment Priest’s way every three months.
Swear to fuck our national board is the biker equivalent of the IRS robbing us for quarterly taxes.
While it’s not in a biker’s nature to follow rules, I don’t fuck around with our club’s by-laws. Mostly because I don’t want anyone from National coming around and sticking their nose in my club’s business. Teller sends our check promptly every quarter.
Priest runs through each charter’s business quickly. Less than half our organization is still into the kinds of risky activity that brings long prison sentences, something I’m happy to hear. One club has engaged in a bloody battle with a rival club that’s brought a lot of attention. Probably some of the reason law enforcement has been so interested in this year’s get-together. Some of these guys are total fuckups and I’m sure Priest will have more words for them later. Or they might have their patches stripped by the end of this weekend, depending on the attitude they give Priest.
Unease builds in my chest as Priest skips over me several times.
Finally, Sway and I are the last presidents to be addressed.
“New York. New York.” Priest turns his stony eyes my way. “Been doing good, Upstate. Expanded your territory and grow op.” He casts an irritated look down the table. “Lost a business but still managed to keep out of the spotlight. Looking real good. Beat that murder rap too, right?”
&
nbsp; This is old news, so obviously Priest wants to make a point.
“It was bullshit. We handled the cause of the problem and moved on. Now we’re working on securing our new territory and branching out into some new business ventures.”
Priest nods slowly. “Still a small charter, Rock. What’re we doing to grow those upstate numbers?”
Technically, we are not doing anything about it—I am. I sit back and take my time answering to make sure my tone isn’t colored by my rising irritation. “I’ve said it before, Priest. And my position hasn’t changed. We want quality prospects over quantity, and they’re not easy to come by.” I don’t point out that taking in any old prospect is a good way to develop a snitch problem.
“I get that.” He nods a little more vigorously. “Right. No one’s telling you otherwise. Lost a prospect earlier in the year, right?”
“Yeah. He was a good kid too. Big loss.”
“Keep doing what you’re doing. Your efforts aren’t going unnoticed.”
Fantastic. I barely restrain the urge to roll my eyes, and I work hard to keep my expression neutral. Just what I need—to be on National’s radar.
The smile slides off Priest’s face as he turns Sway’s way. The tension around the table rises to cut-with-a-knife levels. Shit, as irritating as he can be, I am not in the mood to watch my brother get dressed down. And I have no doubt that’s what’s headed Sway’s way.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“A snitch?” Priest says with deadly calm. Deadly enough to make me wish I wasn’t sitting next to Sway right now. “How’d he make it to an officer’s position?”
To Sway’s credit, he doesn’t flinch or weasel through his answer. “There were no signs, Prez. Another member vouched for him. As soon as I found out, I handled it.”
“And where’s the member who vouched for the rat?”
“We dealt with him.”
“Something that’s gonna come back on us?”
“No,” Sway answers with complete calm, as if that whole situation wasn’t an epic fuckup. “The problem’s been handled,” he repeats gravely.
Sway’s always been a smooth bullshitter. Capable of telling you something’s been done without divulging any actual details. It’s served him well over the years.
After Burn Page 7