“Yo,” Hound greeted as he made it to the bar.
High looked to Hound, gave him a chin lift, then looked to Tack.
“Slim and Mitch good?” he asked.
“Yep,” Tack answered, and held his gaze. “Valenzuela still had eyes on Millie, brother. Joke noticed them and Snap noticed them when he was sitting on her house yesterday. Speck reports nothin’ today.”
High did not like this. He didn’t like it enough that he was burning to do something about it.
He couldn’t. He hated it. But too much was riding on it for all of them.
So he had to bury it.
“Joke told me,” he grunted, and returned Tack’s steady gaze before he went on. “This shit is takin’ a long time. We got no in with Valenzuela’s crew. Not even insider gash he sells who gives shit info for a ton of cake. Lucas and Lawson are gettin’ more than us but what they’re gettin’ is mostly dick, too, and we got more pains in the ass patrolling more territory and keepin’ an eye on our women.”
This wasn’t lost on any of them. Months ago, when they heard that on the street, their reputations had taken a hit and with it, the respect they’d earned, they’d pushed Valenzuela, claiming more turf, growing that from the five-mile radius around Ride that they’d patrolled for years to ten.
They’d also done other shit, like brothers moving out to beat the absolute snot out of the man who shared that he thought Chaos were pussy.
The message had been relayed. No one else had fucked with them.
But looking after more turf took more time. More patrols. More manpower.
Valenzuela landed dealers and whores on their patch regularly, so it wasn’t uneventful but it still was a pain in the ass.
“This is why I called you here,” Tack said.
“We’re all here now. You gonna give us that?” Boz asked.
Tack looked briefly to Shy before he announced, “Got a girl on the inside.”
“Who?” High asked.
Tack didn’t answer High.
“You need to keep your shit,” he warned Shy.
“Oh fuck,” Shy muttered. “Natalie?”
Christ, High hoped not.
Natalie was the one who got them stuck in this mess in the first place. A friend of Tab’s so deep into Valenzuela for blow, she couldn’t pay her debt and Valenzuela got creative. This meant she was going to work a porn set, not doing that manning a camera.
For Tabby, Chaos had intervened before she made that debut. When they did, they bought Valenzuela’s displeasure and more of his attention.
It had been a while with both sides butting heads but not much happening.
High didn’t like living with that shadow.
One way or another, he wanted it done.
But he didn’t trust Natalie. She’d fucked their shit, got sober for a nanosecond, then fell into the junk again. No one had seen her in months.
If Tack sent her in, he’d be surprised at his brother’s play. Tack above all the brothers knew they shouldn’t hang anything on a junkie who wouldn’t deliver. And Valenzuela liked Natalie less than the brothers did.
“Rosalie,” Tack said.
High straightened and moved slightly closer to the huddle as the room went alert.
This was because Rosalie was an ex of Shy’s. A sweet girl. Like Millie, born an old lady, though quieter than Millie, less ballsy. Still, Shy introduced her to the life and you could see she took to it, and Shy, right away.
He’d dumped her for Tabby and that might not have been fun for him, but it wasn’t ugly. She got burned by him but word was she held no ill will.
Actually, no one held ill will.
And Rosalie was another way High didn’t want to see this shit with Valenzuela done.
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Shy bit out toward Tack.
“You ended it with her, brother; she got in with a Bounty,” Tack explained.
High could see that, seeing as Rosalie was an old lady, and when Shy dumped her, she was this without an old man.
The Bounties were another MC. Chaos had Denver central as well as claiming south Denver, Englewood, Lakewood, and Littleton. The Bounties were East Denver, including Aurora.
The Bounties were outlaws to the bone, like Chaos, and they were a decent club. Good men. But they didn’t run a Club business like Ride, so they all had jobs. This meant they dipped their wicks into extraneous shit to make extra cash.
Recently, that extraneous shit became serious.
And part of this was that they’d made an alliance with Valenzuela that earned them Chaos attention and caused friction between two clubs whose members got along, and if they didn’t, they gave each other a wide berth.
“As you know, when we pulled out of security, Bounty picked up some of that for players in town,” Tack went on. “As you also know, part a’ that was them pickin’ up some business with Valenzuela. Rosalie didn’t know about either. That is, until Snapper caught sight of her with her biker. Snap wasn’t around when you were with her. Shot a picture of the biker when she was with him. Showed it to Roscoe. Roscoe knows Rosalie, had the idea. He made the approach. She was not pleased when she heard what was goin’ down with the Bounties doin’ that shit for Valenzuela and she says she’s in to help.”
“She’s not in to help,” Shy shot back.
“We’ll keep her covered, Shy,” Tack told him. “You know that. Snap is on her, with Roscoe and Speck at his back and hers.”
“She’s not in to help,” Shy repeated, his tone deteriorating.
“Calm, Shy,” Hop warned. “You think we’d take her on if Snap didn’t have her covered?”
“Snap doesn’t have shit,” Shy clipped to Hop, then looked to Tack. “She ain’t takin’ cock to serve Chaos.”
“Can’t claim pussy that’s no longer yours, brother,” Tack stated, heat building behind his words, which was understandable since his daughter had Shy’s ring on her finger and his kid in her belly and he was throwing in for another woman.
“Rosalie isn’t pussy,” Shy returned. “She’s Rosalie.”
“We know that,” Tack replied. “But she’s tight with her man, thinks she can pull him out of it after shit goes down. And part of this decision includes us knowin’ the guy. He’s in with the Bounties and like a lot of ’em, he’s solid. They’re makin’ bad allegiances because their president is greedy. Not all of them are down with what’s goin’ on, including her man. So we think she’s not wrong and he can be turned.”
“We use her, she’s still swinging out there,” Shy pointed out.
“Which is why Snap is on her,” Tack fired back.
Shy shut his mouth but a muscle jumped in his jaw.
“Won’t let anything happen to her, Shy,” Pete said quietly. “We know she’s Rosalie. She’s not Chaos, never really was, but she’s a good gal. We wouldn’t let her swing.”
“I want on her,” Shy announced, and the men got more alert.
“No fuckin’ way,” Tack growled.
“Do not mistake me,” Shy whispered. “When it comes to my woman, the family we’re makin’ she’s got inside her, do not ever mistake me, Tack.”
Tack held Shy’s gaze steady for a beat before he said, “Tabby knows.”
“That would be you mistakin’ me,” Shy returned. “I wouldn’t do dick with or for Rosalie without my wife bein’ in the know. She’s uncomfortable with it, I leave it to Snap, Roscoe, and Speck. She’s good, I’m in.”
Tack nodded.
When the vibe in the room mellowed, High waded in.
“That’s sorted, what’s she gonna get for us?” he asked.
Tack looked to him. “Whatever she gets is shit we don’t currently have.”
“I hear that, brother, but she’s covered or not, the fact remains we’re puttin’ a good woman out there and we should do it knowin’ she’s takin’ a risk that’s worth it,” High noted.
“Her man works security for Valenzuela’s dope transport,” Tack repli
ed. “She can get to his cell, see his texts. She hears him on calls. She’s already given detail on a shipment and their possible route. We’re gonna cover that, see if what she says is gonna go down, goes down. It does, Lawson and Lucas go in on the next one, take it down but do it to turn a Bounty to the cause, informant instead of jail time, this hopefully bein’ Rosalie’s biker. Rosalie is off the hook without anyone knowin’ she was on it and we got someone on the actual inside who can really help bring Valenzuela down.”
High turned to Shy. “It’s a solid plan, brother.”
“It is, we don’t give a shit about the woman who’s got her neck out,” Shy replied. “It isn’t we do. And I thought Chaos was not into doin’ this kind of shit.”
“She’s not an old lady, Shy, and never was,” Tack remarked.
Shy looked to him. “That matters? She’s a woman.”
“She’s a woman but that don’t mean she don’t have courage or brains,” Tack returned. “She wants her man out of that business, brother, and she’s willin’ to take the risk to get the reward. That’s her call. Not yours. And she made it.”
“You’re good with that, we’ll talk again, she’s found in an alley with her throat cut,” Shy shot back, and before Tack could say anything, he looked around and stated, “This should have been brought to the table.”
“Brothers out takin’ old ladies’ backs, on our kids, we don’t have time to sit a table,” Tack told him. “Obviously Roscoe, Snap, and Speck are in with this plan. The rest of you are stand-in’ right here.”
“Rush isn’t here,” Shy noted.
“Rush has already voted and I think you get what his vote was,” Tack replied.
They all got it. No way in fuck would Rush put Rosalie out there.
Then again, if it was up to him, Rush would retreat off their turf and do nothing but protect Ride, the shop, the garage, the Compound, the parking lot, and the forecourt, leaving the rest to the cops.
This was not a weak decision. A woman Rush cared about was kidnapped and stabbed and he’d watched his father suffer through it right along with the woman who would become his stepmother. All because of shit Chaos waded into.
So it was an informed decision.
Just, to High’s way of thinking, the wrong one.
“So I got Rush but if this were to come to a vote, I’d be outvoted,” Shy said.
“Seems that way, brother,” Boz replied.
“Rosalie isn’t gonna get her throat cut,” Hound put in.
“You sure about that?” Shy asked.
“Sure I’m sure,” Hound returned. “She trusts Chaos. We’re your brothers. Not sure why you don’t.”
That was what got to him. Shy again shut his mouth. Then he shot Tack an unhappy look, turned, and stalked out.
“That went exactly how I expected it,” Hop muttered.
“What it did was it went,” Tack stated. “Now it’s done.” He looked Hound and Boz’s way. “I want you with Snap, Roscoe, and Speck when that shipment goes. It’s on the route Rosalie gave us, tail it, mark the route, stay unnoticed. The next one she gets, Slim and Mitch’ll be with you and so will I.”
Hound nodded and declared, “I need beer.”
He then ambled to a tap, grabbed a random plastic cup that was sitting on the bar that could be clean—it also could be dirty—and he pulled himself a cold one.
“Pull one a’ those for me,” Boz ordered.
“I gotta go get Nash from Lanie. She’s got a meeting comin’ up,” Hop muttered. “Later.”
Then he took off.
“Carrie and me got Travis this week,” Joker said. “Goin’ home.”
He took off too.
“You’re holdin’ your shit a lot better than I expected you would,” Pete remarked, and High looked to him. “Thought you’d have Valenzuela hung up by his balls by now.”
“Finally got a life not worth fuckin’ up,” High replied.
“Had that when you got your two girls, High,” Pete noted.
“You did, too, lotta folks depended on you for a lotta things when you went off the rails when your girl passed, Pete,” High said evenly, not sounding angry, even though Pete had ticked him off with what he’d said. Just making his point.
“Fair enough,” Pete muttered, grinned, then looked away and called, “Pull me one, too, Hound,” and he peeled off.
Tack got close.
“Shy’s on their team, High. Tab won’t give a shit about Rosalie. But you know security better than anyone,” Tack said. “That dope run is happening this weekend. Know you can’t go ’cause you got your girls and they’re meetin’ Millie. Next run, though, it’d help a lot you were on it.”
High nodded.
“In the meantime, be good you keep Snap’s shit sharp. Roscoe and Speck got more experience, so they’re on the women, only got half a mind to Rosalie and she needs more. It’d help, you helped him cover Rosalie.”
High nodded again.
“Millie good?” Tack asked.
High’s mind filled with her sweater dress and the lace of her thigh-high.
He felt his lips twitch.
Tack read it.
“Good,” Tack muttered, then noted, “Women are goin’ out Saturday night.”
He knew that. Millie had shared it on the way to go pick up cats the night before.
“Just got her back, hope she survives.”
At that, he watched Tack’s lips twitch.
“Got shit to do, brother,” High told him.
Tack sighed. “We all do.”
High slapped his shoulder and Tack returned the gesture. They traded chin lifts.
Then High headed out to find Snap, get a brief, and make sure he was covering Rosalie’s shit.
* * *
“This?” Millie asked.
High was lounging on his side on the bed.
Before he got that way, he’d scooped up the cats and deposited them there. They were wrestling—so damned little, the match was vicious and he didn’t feel a thing—and likely fucking up her precious sheets.
She didn’t seem to care.
He definitely didn’t care.
But she didn’t because she was in a fucking tizzy.
She’d just run into the room and was holding up a pair of jeans folded over a hanger at her bottom, a sweater dangling down her front at the top.
He was helping her pick out an outfit to meet his daughters.
This was not what he thought he was going to do when she’d led him into her bedroom after they cleaned up after dinner.
That was bad.
But it got worse when he found out what she was up to.
She started this shit, he’d approved every outfit, and she’d nixed it, tossing crap aside and rushing back to her closet only to come out again with another outfit he’d approve and she’d nix.
This had happened eight times.
He was done on the first one.
“Babe, it’s fine,” he stated.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled, pulling the sweater away and looking at it. “When it’s on, this sweater is kinda tight.”
“Then it’s absolutely fine,” High declared, and she turned narrowed eyes on him.
“I’m not gonna wear something suggestive to meet your girls, Low.”
“Babe, you got a killer body, you’re an unbelievably great lay, and both a’ those are mine… again. You could wear a bag over your head and mom jeans, I knew it was you under all that, I’d still wanna fuck you.”
He saw pleasure mingle with irritation in her eyes but she went with the last.
“You shouldn’t think those things when you’re with your daughters,” she announced.
“The only time I don’t think those things is when I’m unconscious. But I probably dream about ’em and I’ll definitely be doin’ that shit after you woke me up takin’ my dick down your throat.”
She straightened her spine and stated, “I’ll never wake you up that way again.”
“Fine with me,” he returned. “Opens me up to do it to you.”
With hanger in one hand, sweater in the other, she planted her hands on her hips and rapped out, “Logan!”
He sighed, pushing up and hauling his ass off her bed. Then he approached and she glared at him as he did, but he ignored it and got in her space, lifting his hands to cup her jaw.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he said quietly.
He saw her shoulders slump as she replied, “I want Zadie to like me.”
“Wear a tiara,” he suggested on a tease. “Only way that’s gonna step that shit up.”
She looked like she was considering that idea and it was cute, so he grinned. But it still disturbed him she’d consider going to those lengths, which indicated the depth of her anxiety.
He dipped closer.
“Baby, listen to me,” he coaxed gently. “They’re my kids. They’re good kids. They love their dad. They’re social, good with people. I told you, Zadie will come around. But she won’t if you get wound up.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Kids are like horses, they can read you’re spooked, which will spook them and make ’em act up. You gotta be the adult in this situation, which means you gotta fuckin’ relax, be patient, and give her the real you, which she’s got no choice but to wake up and love due to the fact that there’s a fuckuva lot to love.”
The clothes she was holding hit the floor as she leaned into him and slid her arms around his waist.
Once she had hold on him, she shared, “You’re good at the flowery biker shit.”
“Learned early,” he replied. “Had a good girl named Millie to win and it was worth pullin’ out stupid shit like that in order to do it.”
A shadow of regret ran through her eyes at the reminder of what they’d had and lost but she powered through it and returned, “It’s not stupid shit.”
“Won me you so I guess you’re right.”
She pressed in until she had her cheek to his chest. As she did this, she held on tighter.
High wrapped his arms around her and returned the tight.
“I’ll wear the first outfit. I think it was the best,” she decided.
“Great,” he muttered. “And so you know, we got plans for dinner at The Broker on Monday night.” She tipped her head back and caught his eyes. “Sweater dress,” he finished.
Walk Through Fire Page 37
