She points to a small, red hatchback. “So, should I ask for you if I want to schedule something?”
“Huh? Oh. No. Dex runs Crystal Ball.”
She lets out a throaty laugh. “Will I see you at all if I visit New York?”
Hell fucking no.
“No. I’ll be on the road with my girlfriend.”
“Oh.” Her heavily glossed lips push into a pout.
We stop at her car and she hits the unlock button. The alarm chirps and the lights flash. I lean in and open the driver’s door.
“Thank you so much.” She tosses her bag into the backseat. “I had this customer who wouldn’t take no for an answer and he started waiting in the parking lot for me…” her voice trails off. “Scared the hell out of me a few times.”
I scowl and glance at the club. The few times I’ve helped out at Crystal Ball, hell, any of the strip clubs Lost Kings own, we’ve always walked the girls to their cars at night. Too many guys fell “in love” with the girls and acted like dropping their weekly paycheck on lap dances entitled them to more after hours.
“Digger doesn’t walk you guys out?”
“No, he does. Or he has someone do it. We’re short on bouncers lately, though. Squiggy’s usually careful about that stuff but Digger said he’s on a run or something.”
I search my memory for a face to match with the name. Lost Kings isn’t the largest MC out there but we’re not small enough that I can remember every single patch-holder’s name in a flash either. “Big, bald-headed guy?” I tap the side of my neck. “Octopus tat?”
Her smile brightens. “That’s our Squiggy.”
“Yeah, he’s a good dude. Where’d he go?”
She shrugs. “I don’t ask questions. I thought Digger said Everhart but I’m not sure.”
Funny, I just came from there and didn’t run into him. Granted, he could’ve arrived after we left. And it’s not like Ice is obligated to tell me who’s visiting his clubhouse and when.
“I’m working tomorrow.” She steps closer and rests her hand over my VP patch. “Will I see you again?”
Not only is it rude as fuck to touch a biker’s cut or patches without asking—which she should know since she works for a bunch of bikers—I don’t want some strange woman’s hand on me.
Gripping her wrist firm enough to send a message but not hurt her, I remove her hand. “No.”
She pouts again. Guess that usually works for her. “Well, all right then…”
I open her door wider. “Go on. I’m gonna watch you drive out. Make sure no one’s following you.”
That must’ve sent the wrong signal. Her eager smile returns. “Oh. Okay.”
I move to close her door but a flash of movement near the dumpster on the other side of the parking lot catches my eye. While my attention’s focused over there, she pushes the door open again. “Give me your number. I’ll let you know I got home okay.”
Christ, she’s persistent. Slowly tearing my gaze away from the dumpster, I open my mouth to say no. Then I reconsider and recite Jigsaw’s number. He likes the tenacious ones.
Finally, I get her door closed and she starts the car. She wiggles her fingers at me and reverses out of the spot. I jam my hands in my pockets and walk toward the club, keeping my eye on her car. No other cars start up or follow her out of the parking lot. She turns left onto a side street and I figure my job here is done.
Inside the club, Digger’s door is closed. I should probably stop in and finish the conversation we were having but I need to check on Shelby first.
The flashing lights and pounding music stab my skull as I enter the main room. My gaze shoots to the booth we’d been occupying. Most of our group’s returned to the table. Shelby’s nestled in the booth between Jigsaw and Trinity.
Confident she’s in good hands, I return to Digger’s office, knocking twice before turning the knob and pushing it open.
Digger stands as I enter the room, bracing his hands on his desk. “My girl get off okay?”
“Didn’t see anyone.”
“Good.” He drops into his chair and motions for me to take one of the empty chairs on the opposite side. I pick the one next to the desk, pulling it a few extra inches away.
“We were just discussing the business,” Dex says.
“Did you say you’re light on security?” I ask Digger.
He hesitates, his gaze shifting to the left. “At the moment.”
“You have a lot of issues?”
He taps a large screen sitting on his desk and turns it slightly our way. “I keep an eye on things here.”
The screen is divided into eight squares, each showing a different section of the club. I quickly visualize the club and can count several places not covered on that screen.
“How’s Squiggy been?” I ask. “Haven’t seen that guy in forever.”
Again, Digger shifts his eyes to the left. Is that his tell for when he’s about to lie his ass off?
“Sent him on a mission with one of our prospects.”
If it was club business, that would explain why Squiggy might’ve said he was headed to Everhart. Even though we’re all part of the same organization, it’s just bad manners to ask too many nosy questions.
Fuckin’ Priest sending me here to gather intel. Digger will know where any information I pass along to Priest came from.
Time to try another approach. I ease back in the chair, casually resting my right ankle over my knee. “Think you’re heading to the Florida rally this year?” He’ll have to come pretty close to Black Venom’s territory to hit that rally. Maybe thinking about it will loosen his lips a little.
His blank expression turns sour. “Only if National’s gonna ride with us. Otherwise it’s too much headache dealing with Black Venom MC’s bullshit.”
Finally.
“I thought we were cool with them?”
“We were. Then they opened a titty bar of their own right on the border.”
“You think that’s causing the slowdown in your business? It should still be far enough away.”
“They poached our girls.”
Dex sits forward. “Lured them away or took them?” he asks in a sharp tone.
Leave it to Dex to stop fucking around and get straight to the point. If we’ve got a rival MC kidnapping women associated with our club, I’ve stepped into a way more serious situation than I realized. And I need to get Shelby away from here as soon as possible. Also means Digger’s hiding too much information from Priest. Ruthless national president or not, there’s no way Priest would’ve encouraged me to bring my girl and a whole bunch of civilians here if that sort of trouble was brewing.
“Don’t know yet. That’s why I sent Squiggy to investigate.”
“You think he might’ve kidnapped your women and you only sent one brother and a prospect to check it out?” Dex’s sharp tone slices through the pretense of this being a casual conversation.
Digger ain’t havin’ any of it either. He slams his fists against the desk and stands, leaning over as far as he can to get in Dex’s face. “I don’t know they kidnapped anyone. These bitches are flaky as fuck sometimes. You oughta know that. What’d you want me to do, send a fuckin’ army in and then find out I’m wrong? Tuck my balls back up my ass crack and ride home? Start a war and have Priest come down on my ass? Squiggy knows what he’s doin’.”
“All right. Easy.” I hold out a hand toward Digger and one toward Dex. “No one’s judging you.”
Dex side-eyes me and I pray to fuck he doesn’t open his mouth to contradict what I just said.
Digger drops into his seat. “If I don’t hear from him by the weekend, I’ll personally be lookin’ for him. I’ll call Blink to come in and back me up.”
Yeah, our national SAA would be the right person to call since they’re technically the closest charter.
Now I have to decide if I’m gonna rat a brother out to Priest or give Digger a couple days to do the right thing. Not a position I enjoy being in.
/>
I knew nothing about this trip would be “simple.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Rooster
Finally, I’m done with club bullshit and return to the party to collect my girl. Shelby’s half-asleep with her head on Jiggy’s shoulder. Wrath’s gaze keeps scanning the bar like a caged lion trying to plan an escape from the zoo. Taking a second look around the joint, I can’t say that’s an unfair comparison.
Every chair around the stage has an ass in the seat. Men in business suits, men in jeans and work boots, a few cowboys in ten-gallon hats, and boys sporting college sweatshirts. All types stop in to give their hard-earned cash away.
“Guess they pick up as the night goes on,” Dex says.
“Guess so.” I slap his shoulder. “What was that, back there? Were you itching to get into a fight with him?”
“No, brother. Trying to play a little bad cop to your good.”
“Bullshit.”
He shrugs. “It pisses me off that he’s acting so casual about the girls he makes money off of.”
“I feel you.” I glance behind us to make sure no one’s within earshot. “Are you also concerned he’s taking such a slow approach?”
“Fuck yeah. Unless he really doesn’t think Black Venom is that big of a threat. Maybe we’re just twitchy because we’ve dealt with shit from the Vipers and know how bad it can get.”
“Maybe.” I’m still pondering whether or not to give Priest all the details of our visit. I’m not asking Dex for his opinion on that. I’ve involved him enough. No reason to stick him in an even more awkward position. That’s what Jiggy’s for.
“You guys ready to bail?” I stop in front of our table and meet my brothers’ eyes. Steer and Pants are wasted. Trent’s still flirting with one of the dancers—gonna take a guess that his wallet’s empty.
I check the table again. “Where’s Dawson?”
“Still back there.” One of his roadies points toward the champagne rooms.
Fuck. I lift my chin at Jiggy and slide out of the booth.
“Wrath? Watch Shelby for me?”
He nods.
Steer stumbles out of his chair. “You need me?”
“We’ll see. Hang tight.”
The guy working the entrance to the back area isn’t a brother. At least he’s not wearing our colors. He holds out his hand as if he’s expecting something. “Need a credit card to get back there.”
“Like fuck I do. Where’s the guy who’s with our party?”
“He’s busy.”
His smirky attitude works my last nerve and I snap, grabbing him by his shirt and jamming him against the wall. “Do you really want to fuck with me? You work for my club.”
“Spit it out, needle-dick,” Jigsaw growls.
“Room four.”
I release him and he brushes off his shirt. “I’m calling Digger.”
“Be my guest.” Unless he’s ready to retire from this Earth, there’s no way Digger’s gonna side with an employee over one of his brothers.
I push open the door to room four and stop to absorb what’s in front of me.
Three girls in lingerie. Two of them are laughing, talking, and sipping champagne. The other one’s tucked in the corner with her knees up to her chin and arms wrapped around her legs, looking miserable as hell. Dawson’s unconscious on the couch.
Fucking great.
I recognize the scam they’re running. Can’t believe Digger lets this shit go on in his club. Half a dozen strip clubs on the East Coast have been raided by the FBI and shut down after pulling this stunt. Digger has to know this is exactly the kind of attention Priest doesn’t want. Unless he really has no idea what goes on in his house. Can’t decide which is worse.
Doesn’t matter.
The girls jump up and try to run out of the room but Jiggy blocks their escape, backing them into the corner. “Sit your asses down,” he orders.
I squat down next to Dawson and slap his cheek. “Hey, buddy. Time to wake up.” Can’t tell if he’s drunk or drugged unconscious. His wallet’s half sticking out of his back pocket. I pull it out and thumb through it. Empty. Looks like at least one credit card is missing.
“What’d you give him?” I yell at the girls.
“Nothing!” The tall, dark-haired one shouts. “He just passed out.”
“Sure he did.” I nod to Jiggy. “They emptied his wallet.”
“Hell no, we didn’t,” the short blonde screeches. “He tipped us nicely.”
“Shut up,” the third girl whines.
Jiggy stares the three of them down. “Don’t make me search you. It won’t be pleasant,” he warns.
The blonde backs up to a small black velvet ottoman that’s hard to even make out in the dark.
“Don’t,” the brunette warns.
“Bitch, I will turn you over to the cops so fast your fake fuckin’ titties will leak out your nipples.” Jiggy stalks even closer until they’re pressed up to the wall. “Stop playin’.”
I shake my head and return my attention to Dawson, figuring Jiggy can handle the girls. “Dawson? Come on, buddy.” I haul him upright and he groans. Thank fuck. Last thing I want to do is call an ambulance and bring more fucking attention to the situation.
“Here!” the other brunette yells. “I didn’t wanna do it in the first place. They made me!” She flings the top of the ottoman open and reaches inside.
“You bitch!” the blonde screeches, attacking the other girl.
Jiggy watches them fight for a few seconds too long before separating them. The tall girl tries to run but I jump up, blocking her escape.
“What the fuck, Rooster? What are you doing?” Digger shouts, rushing into the room.
I shove the brunette into his chest. “Your girls here tried to scam my buddy. I brought my friends into your establishment thinking you’d treat my guests with respect, brother. This ain’t right.”
“I…I…,” he sputters.
I point at the door. “Your bouncer’s in on it too.”
Steer pops into the room, his wide eyes bouncing around the room. “The fuck is going on, bro?”
“Digger’s got a big fucking problem in his house.”
Digger shoots a glare at me and I glare right back. The situation’s deteriorating rapidly.
“Logan?” Dawson groans.
Thank fuck. “You all right?”
He leans over and pukes, narrowly missing my boots.
I reach down and slap his back a few times. “Better?”
“I think so,” he groans.
“Here,” a soft voice says next to me. I glance over and find our waitress, Erica, holding a bottle of water and a towel.
“Bitch,” one of the girls Jigsaw’s corralling hisses.
Erica’s scared eyes meet mine for a second before she scurries away.
“What the fuck happened?” Digger demands.
“Nothing!” the tall dancer stomps her foot. “We don’t know what he took before he came here. All these musicians are druggies and junkies.”
Dawson’s resting his elbows on his knees, head down, rubbing his temples. “Sweetheart, I ain’t had anything harder than whiskey in ten years,” he mumbles. “Try again.”
“Nothing happened,” the short blonde whines. “He bought a bottle of champagne, we started dancing for him, and he passed out.”
“And you conveniently kept charging his credit card.” I sneer.
She shrugs.
“Rooster, I’m sorry,” Digger says. Ouch that had to hurt his pride to apologize in front of everyone.
I shake my head, indicating we can discuss it in private. Gotta leave the man his dignity if I want to get this sorted.
The brunette who cracked first really loses it. She screams and slides down the wall until her ass hits the floor. “I didn’t wanna do any of it,” she wails. “They made me. And Josh threatened me.”
“Shut up, you sniveling little bitch.” The taller brunette kicks her in the thigh and the girl on
the floor starts wailing even louder.
“Jesus fuck,” Steer groans, covering his ears.
Jigsaw grabs the tall one and yanks her away from the other girls.
“Steer, Jigsaw,” Digger throws them a pleading look. “Would you mind helping me escort them into my office and keep them there, please? I need to have a word with Josh.”
“That the guy out front?” I ask Digger. I wouldn’t mind punching that asshole a few times before we leave.
He nods once and takes out his cell phone. “Let me ask one of my guys to hold him somewhere for me.”
Jigsaw yanks the tall girl out by her wrists while Steer drags the other two by the arms.
“Wait.” I stop them at the door. “Leave her.” I nod to the one who gave up the truth first. Normally, I’m not a fan of snitches but in this case, I’m glad she broke as fast as she did.
She trembles like a kitten in a rainstorm as I nod for her to return to the corner of the room. Doubt she’ll try to make a run for it and we might need more info from her.
Now that it’s a little quieter, Digger shuts the door and pulls out a revolver.
Well, fuck. That escalated fast.
At least he doesn’t point it at any of us.
Dawson hasn’t looked up, so I don’t even think he’s noticed the rising tension in the room.
“Presley,” Digger says in a low, ominous tone. “I took you in. Gave you a home. Gave you a job. Why would you disrespect me like this?”
She bursts into tears.
Dear God, can I just leave?
Click. Digger opens the revolver and slides a bullet in the chamber. “I’m waiting, Presley.”
He still doesn’t point the gun at her, but the threat’s clear.
Her chin trembles as she tries to contain her sobbing. Finally, she opens her mouth. “Josh and Michelle set it up. I think Vanity’s usually in on it with them but she was busy tonight. Skyla seemed to be in on it too but Michelle was definitely in charge. I didn’t know what they were going to do until he passed out. When I tried to leave, she threatened me.” She shrugs and looks down at the carpet. “They wouldn’t let me leave. Josh said he’d come to my apartment and hurt me if I told anyone.”
Lyrics on the Wind (Lost Kings MC Book 17) Page 34
