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Finding out Maren, or rather, Treasure’s club had rewarded her, made her President of her own chapter, I felt the sting of everything anew. But even as I almost had her, I knew it had come too easy. As I studied the file, the fact Merc just handed over Maren’s location and the details hadn’t been lost on me. I must’ve been onto something before, though I hadn’t a clue what. Everything I could ever ask for was in my hands because of my idle threat.
Merc had been thinking of it, too. He sat at his desk and drew his own weapon, a pistol that looked like it belonged in a museum. Though I was sure it still worked. Using two shaky hands, he had it trained on me.
“Don’t think I’m helping you because of your bluff,” he said.
Tucking the folder into my vest, I would have to look through it later. “Then why?” I asked.
“I owe your President a debt.”
Fucking Kingpin. “Never seen you at Royal Road,” I said in jest.
“You know it doesn’t work that way.”
He was right. I knew Prez took wagers from all over the underbelly. Dangerous men settled their scores through him all the time, just to owe the house, Kingpin’s house, Royal Road.
Merc cracked his aging neck. “I could’ve handed over that folder to him instead, but I’m going to let him know where you are and that you’re on your way to retrieve the spy he wants so badly yourself, thanks to me.”
“Save me from his wrath. Why?”
Putting his revolver away, he slid over a card. “I’d like to see you survive to fight another day.”
I swiped the card up, cupping it in my hand. Glancing down, I read the words, Road Monsters MC scrawled in blue ink with a phone number.
“Bastards don’t want you, we might,” Merc said, drumming his fingers together, like he was making me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Smirking, I could hardly believe it. Was this a joke?
During my time on the road, I’d seen the logo a time or two. It struck fear in most bikers. The Road Monsters MC was a bunch of nomads, as far as I knew. The Road Monsters were nomads so unregulated and brutal, they thrived completely on their own. Though they were connected somehow, as their insignia suggested.
The group had their hands in all the dirty dealings in the underbelly from what I had seen out on the road myself. The things I heard even made me sick.
I had been playing nomad myself with Kingpin loaning me out to the other chapters of the Royal Bastards so often. I preferred the solitude. The freedom. And though I still answered to Kingpin, in the club or not, I longed to answer to no one.
I also heard tale their president was a mysterious if not sinister character no one had ever even laid eyes on. I eyed Merc, sizing him up.
Couldn’t be?
“This you?” I asked him, hiding my shock.
He raised both hands like he was under arrest. “Not me, but that’s how you get a hold of them. I can put in a word. I can’t say any more.”
Giving Merc an appreciative chin lift, I tucked the card away.
Afterwards, I joined the old biker at the bar again like nothing happened. There were no hard feelings. He and I went round and round often. I had the rest of my whisky before I got up to leave.
Merc stopped me. He noticed Static, another biker affiliated with the Royal Bastards MC coming our way.
Oh shit.
Though he was a nomad, I didn’t need to be dragged back to my club without Maren in hand. The biker gave me a nod in greeting as he passed. I stayed put as he headed toward the john. There was no use running if I could reason with him.
“You think he’ll try to take me in?” I asked Merc, who had been like a father to him. Found him as a kid in a dumpster in something.
“Static probably doesn’t even know what’s been going on. Like you, he’s a nomad.”
The meaning of his words wasn’t lost on me as I thought of the card in my chest pocket.
“I think I’ll stay and have a beer.” I had to be sure Static wasn’t looking for me. I wouldn’t put it past Kingpin to alert the other chapters of my delay. He had talked to Merc, in any case.
