Captured(Devil's Blaze MC 1)(44)

“You trust this Claire?”

“Fuck no, but I trust her to jump on money if it was offered.”

“Without setting us up?”

“That won’t be on the table. All we need is for her to give us a heads-up if she hears them planning.”

“You deal with it. If you think it will pan out, we’ll try it.”

“Got it. Are we good?”

“I don’t have to like you. We’re good as long as you don’t pull that fucking shit again.”

“Fair enough. I’ll let you know if I hear anything further from Claire.”

“Sounds good.”

I stare at the door after it closes. I’m not sure how I feel about what just happened. I have warning bells going off in my head, but that may have more to do with the fact that Pistol’s involved. I rub the tension at the back of my neck, studying the file in front of me. Colin’s ugly face stares back at me.

“What are you planning, you son of a bitch?” I ask the ugly face. “And just when the fuck are you going to strike?”

I don’t do well waiting. I don’t like not taking the first strike. I thought about going on the offensive, but I know in my heart that this battle is going to be bloody. I’m not ready to put lives on the line until I have to.

I pick up my Bowie knife off the table and stab it into Colin’s picture—right between his eyes. I fucking hate waiting.





“Still no word from Colin?” Beth asks when I come through the front door. The club’s been on lockdown for the last week and the motherfucker still hasn’t made a move. It’s a game to him, I know. My only problem is, I’m not sure if it would pay for me to strike first. I do know I fucking hate being on the defensive end.

“Not a fucking word.”

“What about your contact, Pistol? Anything?” Torch asks, and all eyes turn there.

“They’ve been keeping it nailed down. Word is, they’ve been dealing with a higher up who is unhappy with Colin’s choices.”

“Who’s higher up than Colin?” asks Beth. “I thought he and Matthew were in charge since Edmund and mom passed.”

“There’s always someone higher up, querida,” I answer. “Speaking of Matthew, where is that fuck? He’s not made one move good or bad in this and that’s the fucker we had the truce with.”

“No one seems to know. Maybe your girlfriend knows,” Pistol says.

I let that shit pass. Until I get through this crap with Colin, I don’t give a fuck what Pistol says; that motherfucker’s out of chances.

“Matthew went on vacation in France to the villa there. He hadn’t come back, the last I knew,” says Beth, staring at Pistol. I squeeze her hand and she turns to give me a smile, though her face looks a little lost.

All this shit is driving her crazy. She’s blaming herself for all of it. Nothing I say is making it better. I’d like to take her away from this shit for a couple of weeks, but that’s not possible. When we get this crap behind us, I’m taking her away and spoiling her rotten. That, and fucking her raw. I adjust my cock; fucker’s had her pussy a hundred ways—two to three times a day—and he’s still not worn out. I got a feeling he never will be around her. Shit, I’ll be ninety and still trying to nail her.

“Torch, you find out who this higher-up is who’s unhappy with Colin. That can only be a handful of people. Maybe we can get this fucker from the inside.”

“On it, Boss.”

“What about the list of businesses and shit that Beth gave us?” I ask, squeezing her hand again. “Were there any surprises in there?”

“Nah, not really. We had all of their holdings down except one, and I’m not really sure why they own it. It’s a freaking fruit market and gas station in Jelico, Tennessee.”

“A fruit market?”

“Yeah, and near as I can tell, boss, that shit is a legitimate business.”

“Do they use it for money laundering?”

“If they do, they’re hiding that shit really good. I’m gonna dig deeper, but I can’t even tell if they have anything to do with it, other than the fact that the licensing comes back to Beth’s mom.”

“My mother? She never owned a business,” says Beth, confused. “Well, not that I know of. She was always too busy getting her hair done and partying. I swear, if I thought she had anything to do with the business, I would have told you, Skull.”

“She would have, too. She’s real good at ratting out people who are trying to help her,” says Jan from across the room.

I pick Beth up in my arms, sit down in her seat, then settle her in my lap. We’re having an informal meeting and I probably should have took it to my office, but the only ones allowed in this main part of the club while on lockdown are patched-in members and old ladies, which explains why Jan is running free. However, I’m not about to put up with her shit. In my book, the woman never looks good, but today she’s looking even more haggard than usual. You can tell lockdown is wearing on her. I wonder how long it’s been since her stash has emptied because you can tell just from looking at her that she’s going without drugs, cold turkey.