Hell, I hadn’t been in Stilettos five minutes when I overheard Lynch say, “I’m telling ya ... I don’t give a shit what a chick’s got going on down there. It could be smooth and slick and fancy-free. She could have that shit bedazzled with charms and piercings or be sportin’ the kind of bush you’d see in fucking 1970s porn; I’ll still go down to Chinatown any fucking time.”
“Oh, yeah. I hear ya, brother. I’ve told Kiersten the same fucking thing.” Country glanced over at Jagger with a smirk. “I’ll be heading down south, and she’ll give me one of those weird, hesitant looks because she’s all worried that she hasn’t ‘lady-scaped,’ and I’m like, I don’t give a fuuuccck. Hell, I just ate a Jolly Rancher off the fucking floor. You think I give a damn if you’ve shaved that shit or not? Just. Give. It. To. Me. Baby.”
“Hell, yeah,” Jagger chuckled. “Do us both a favor, right?”
“Damn straight!”
Jagger had been in prison for almost four years, but we finally got him back. And since his return, it was like he’d never been gone. He was back in the fold with the brothers and carrying on just like he’d always done. I shook my head as I looked down at the other end of the bar, glaring at them all as I barked, “Okay, boys. Time for you two to get to work.”
“Sure thing, Prez.” Lynch stood, then leaned over to Widow with a snicker. “Country went too fucking far with the whole Jolly Rancher thing.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what it was.” Widow shook his head. “I’ll give it to ya. You two definitely keep it interesting around here.”
“We do what we can.”
Lynch winked at him, then followed Country and Jagger towards the front door to help him keep an eye on things. Once they were gone, Menace came over, sat down next to me, and said, “I did a little more digging into Coburn.”
“And?”
“Not much luck as far as he’s concerned. I looked over his cell phone records but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. I even checked his fucking text messages. Still nothing. Just looked like your typical stuff, but then I started looking into his boys’ shit.”
“Are you trying to work up the suspense here or what?”
“Sorry, I’ll get to the point. Coburn had a main henchman named Jackson Wineberry.” Menace handed a slip of paper over to Axel and me, then said, “Seems he’s the one who’s been making the gun deals.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The folks he’s been in contact with are heavy into the cartel and a few MCs. Some local. Some not.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Not exactly what we were hoping for.” Concern marked Menace’s face as he continued, “It looks like the shipment we found in the barn was for a man named Jack Welder.”
Axel’s brows furrowed. “Who the fuck is that?”
“That would be Armor, the president of the Broken Knights’ North Carolina chapter.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“We could make some calls and try to find someone who can help us arrange an exchange before they come looking for them.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It would just open the door for more issues. The last thing we need is for folks to know we took out a distributor.”
“So, what are we going to do?”
“Just get me the location of their clubhouse, and we’ll decide from there.”
“You got it.”
Without saying anything more, I turned and started for the back door. I hadn’t made it far when Axel came rushing up behind me. “Hey, brother. You all right?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You just seem to be a little on edge.”
I stopped and turned to face him. “I’m always on edge, brother.”
“I know, but you seem even more so than usual. Just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
I gave him a pat on the shoulder. “All’s good. You just keep an eye on those boys and make sure they don’t do something I’ll end up regrettin’.”
“Will do.”
I continued outside to the parking lot, and it pained me that the weather had turned and the sleeting-rain mixture had forced me to drive the truck tonight. Thankfully, I didn’t have far to go. My day was done, and I was headed home.
I’d always wanted a place by the water, so I spent years saving up and bought one out on Old Hickory Lake. It was bigger, much more elaborate than I’d ever need or want, but I didn’t buy it for the house. I bought it for the view. It was right on the water with its own private boat dock and a covered back porch made for late nights and cold beers.
The inside of the house wasn’t half bad either. There were cedar beams in the family room, and fireplaces on both the first and second floors. It had a hell of a kitchen—one I rarely used but enjoyed looking at from time to time and wall windows that showed off the incredible lake views. It was too much of a house for just one man, but it gave me an escape when I needed it.
Once I finally made it home, I grabbed a cold one from the fridge and sprawled out on my recliner in front of the TV. I watched a few minutes of the news but quickly became bored and decided to call it a night. I slipped off my cut and kicked off my boots, then headed to the bedroom before stripping off the rest of my clothes.
I crawled into bed, hoping for a peaceful night’s sleep, but my mind drifted to Rebecca, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with her—something unlike the times before. She didn’t appear sad or distraught over losing one of her patients but more anxious and maybe even a little scared, and that wasn’t something I’d ever seen from her.
Considering her past, I couldn’t help but think that it might’ve had something to do with her ex-husband. I could’ve just asked her about it, but that would’ve meant crossing a line I simply wasn’t prepared to cross.
So, I did the next best thing. I reached over and grabbed my phone from my jeans pocket, then sent a text to Menace.
Me:
I got something else I need you to do.
Menace:
Name it.
Me:
Trevor Rosewood.
Need you to look into him.
Menace:
I thought he was sentenced to twenty at Riverbend.
Me:
He was.
Menace:
What do you want to know?
Me:
Whatever you can find out.
Menace:
Too bad he wasn’t with Jagger.
It would sure make it easier, but I’ll see what I can dig up.
Me:
Appreciate it brother.
I tossed my phone down on the bedside table, and after an hour or so of tossing and turning, I finally managed to fall asleep. By the next morning, Menace had gotten back to me about both: the Broken Knights’ address and Rosewood. I was pleased to hear there wasn’t any news about Rebecca’s ex. He was still locked up, and from the look of things, he’d remain there for years to come—which seemed like good fucking news to me.
I spent the next couple of days too damn busy to think, much less worry about Rebecca and whatever was troubling her. I figured if it were bad enough, she’d call. She hadn’t, so I decided to leave well enough alone.