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I disentangled myself and held up my mug. “Do we have time for one more cup?”
Chapter 9
Shark Bait
Psycho
My jaw ticked as I stared at Trigger. I didn’t like being questioned, but I also respected his ideas.
“Don’t you think we should notify the Nighthawks?” he asked again.
“I want to check out this club without having to be escorted by the leeches,” I ground out. “If we spot that fucker, we snag him and then we’ll drop him on Viper’s doorstep. After we… have our way with him,” I finished.
Trigger shoved his hand in his pocket and thinned his lips before asking, “And if we don’t find him there?”
“Then it’s surveillance, nothing more. You, Menace, Chaos, Wizard, and I will go. I’ll make sure Cutter and Strife stay here with Nera. It’ll only be a few hours. We might glean some serious info,” I finished.
“Did you just use glean in a sentence?” he asked, biting back a smile.
“Go fuck yourself,” I growled. “Now, go set it up. We ride at sunset. How’s that for cliché?”
Now, he full-on laughed, and I couldn’t help but chuckle with him. “You got it, cuz.”
After he left my office, I sighed and looked around. The mail from the other day sat on my desk, the mysterious envelope with my legal name on the front and no return address still untouched. I quickly found my envelope opener and sliced it open.
My eyes scanned the words:
You can run but you cannot hide.
Come back, no questions asked.
You don’t belong in Louisiana.
What the actual fuck?
I picked up my phone and opened the text app.
Me: Get back to my office.
Trigger: OMW
I slammed the letter down and paced, running my fingertips over my beard. I needed to stop that telltale sign of stress, but that was a problem to address another day.
Within minutes, Trigger was at my door. “What’s up?”
I threw the letter at him.
He quickly scanned it. “What the fuck?”
“My sentiments exactly.”
“You think it’s my dad?” He shook his head, his dark blond hair unmoving with the amount of shit he put in it.
His dad was Scar, leader of the Hellcats. We’d been gone over two years. Why would he even want us back—or care where we were?
“My bets are on Scar.” I refused to call him Uncle Jimmy like I did as a kid. I’d been calling him Scar since my early teens when they recruited—forced—me into the Hellcats.
Trigger nodded. “Yeah, mean old bastard. Probably can’t deal with the fact we left. We were the strongest wolves in that pack.”
