Raw and Dirty(60)
What the hell has happened to my life?
“Find her,” I say, lighting up a cigarette. Two of my prospects, the ones I had stationed here to watch Rebecca, they're gone. Chances of them being alive? Almost zero. There's nothing I can do for her now. “Figure out what happened. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say Mile Wide's in town.”
“Maybe they just forgot to pay us a visit?” Glacier asks, smiling wide, his teeth too white and his enthusiasm too real. This is what he lives for, the chase.
“Maybe they're all too familiar with the sort of welcome you like to give,” Smoky says, running his fingers through his red hair as he looks around, his face holding that same tired melancholy that's reflected in my own. Glacier, he lives for drama and bullshit and pain. Me and Smoky, we prefer a smooth ride, a cold beer and a beautiful woman. Why any asshole would get off on this shit is beyond me.
“Wipe that fucking smile off your face, boy,” Dober says, appearing in the archway to the kitchen, his dark glare narrowed in and focused on Glacier's face. “Our brother is dead and his wife's just cost us two more people. You think that's funny? You have a hell of a lot to learn.”
Glacier's smile fades and he tucks his fingers into his front pockets. Landon was his friend, too, our friend. The three of us went to high school together, so why the fuck did things end up like this?
“I'm going to cut Clayton Moore's balls off and mail them to his mum.” I toss my cig to the carpet and let it smoke the fibers.
“Maybe you should go home and get some rest first?” Dober says, the voice of reason as always. “We know what you want, and we'll get the job done, okay, boss? Take a breather and regroup on this one.” His subtle way of telling me to get the fuck out of here and go home before I do something I'll regret, like ride down to Ukiah and burn down the Mile Wide clubhouse.
Or go back to Lyric's house to hash all of this rubbish between us the fuck out.
I make myself take a deep breath, eyes scanning over my boys before I turn and leave Landon's house for the last time.
Didn't sleep a fucking wink last night. Not one wink. Instead, I went to the clubhouse and paced a rut into the floor while I waited for someone to call me with a bit of good news. Must've been a sore sight the way the girls avoided my ass and the boys stayed quiet at the bar.
This is the last thing I needed to hear.
“He's dead,” I repeat, tapping my fingers against the table in the chapel while I wait for Smoky to explain. His red hair is a mess, and there are dark shadows under his eyes, but also just a hint of relief. He knows how to get the job done, but he's not a monster. The fact that somebody else took Brent out for us must've come as a nice surprise.
“Suicide apparent,” he drawls without an ounce of belief in him. “Somebody probably shot him and stuck the gun in his hand. It's a botch job, but I guess nobody will ever know unless the FBI sends their own people out here. The Trinidad Police Department is a joke.”
I nod, my mind running over all the possibilities. If Mile Wide got rid of Brent, then I can only hope that Rebecca really did get the fuck out of here. If not … shit. I can't think about that right now. One step at a time.
“Why would they take out their very own FBI man? Can't reflect well on the club.”
“Who the hell knows? At this point, I'm just glad he's gone.” Smoky sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “Mile Wide's just cleaned up all our loose ends for us. At this point, we've done all we can do. I have a couple boys out canvassing Rebecca's neighborhood, but they've got squat so far.”
I lean back in my chair and weave my fingers together behind my head, trying to keep my eyes from straying back to my laptop. I emailed Lyric the papers she wanted this morning, and now I've got a meeting with the mayor on my schedule for next week. Guess the club's gettin' a key to the city for our outstanding rescue of his asshole son. Lucky us. Business should boom after this.
“I want Glacier looking into that bullshit with our weapons shipment from Seventy-Seven Brothers. After all this crap with Mile Wide, it'd be bloody fucking ridiculous not to assume they were behind that, too.”
“Got it,” Smoky says, turning to leave and then pausing. “There something else eating you beyond the obvious?” I give him a look that says I'm not buying what he's selling.
“Are you trying to have a heart to heart with me, you blithering twat. Get the fuck out of here.”
Smoky smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, turning on his heel and letting the heavy wood doors swing shut behind him. The hush of the chapel falls over me, a soothing balm that smells like tobacco and leather, the history of the club seeping into my lungs with every breath.