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“Damn,” I commented.
“What? You fucked her ass, didn’t you?”
I blew out a long breath. “I ain’t the one being interrogated.”
“Well, did you want to listen to her scream? Again?” she asked, taking another dig at me.
Goddamn
“I just shot her other leg. She’ll live if she gets to the hospital,” Maren retorted.
“You may not want her to.” I stated the obvious.
“Contrary to your folder on me, I am not a murderer.” Pushing the barrel of her gun into his forehead, Treasure questioned her Enforcer, “Do you want to live?”
“Good question,” I encouraged her, though I wanted to tell her that she just revealed her cards to a potential enemy.
The biker rambled, “I ain’t even supposed to be here. P. Zero chickened out, so they asked me to come on their run. We all thought we were simply escorting Ax, like you said. I had no idea what was about to go down.”
“You sure as hell didn’t stop it,” I said, kicking him in the stomach.
He spit out blood.
“Don’t hurt him,” Maren complained. “He said he didn’t know.”
“No one argues with Beefaroni,” he said, still trying to make excuses.
I lifted my boot. Treasure stopped me. “That’s true. He might as well have been Prez of this gang.”
“Beefaroni?” I asked.
“Officially. He’s half-Italian, half-trailer trash, wanna be mobster. He preferred Beef,” she said.
Looking over my shoulder, I watched the big biker I shot bleed out. “He’s dead now.”
The biker on the ground begged, “I swear my allegiance to you, Treasure. I really like serving you.”
“See,” she said. “I think I know my crew. I knew Beef and Poison would betray me, eventually. Gimp’s loyal.”
“What do you know?” I barked at him, cocking my gun.
Gimp sat up. “I know if Ax didn’t succeed on his own, he was to return to Arkansas and bring a whole crew back with him. He bragged that he wouldn’t have to do that. Said you’d be thrilled to see him, Treasure.”
Maren’s face twisted in disgust. “Why didn’t you let me go after him?” she asked me, her tone harsh.
“By yourself? And I couldn’t go after him and leave you all alone with Gimp,” I explained, knowing how it sounded.
“You don’t think I can handle myself?” she asked in a quick puff.
“They came here to kill you,” I seethed.
Gimp interrupted us. “Not actually. Ax made a deal with Phobia for you. He says you have something of his and if you go back to Arkansas, willingly, they’ll let you live.”
“You have something of Phobia’s?” I asked her, my face scrunching up.
Gimp clarified. “No, she has something of Ax’s, something special by the sound of it.”
“What?” I asked her.
