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“Maybe we should take Fix with us,” Smoke suggests.
“You thinking there’s going to be trouble?” Dodger growls, taking another long drag from his cigarette.
“What?” Switch looks between them. “With the guys from the DMC?”
“Naw.” Smoke shakes his head. “Dead Man’s Curse has always been a solid club to do business with. If there’s trouble tonight, it won’t come from them.” Giving me a meaningful look, he continues. “I do feel like something isn’t right, though. I just think we should have Fix with us.”
I see where he is coming from. If there is anyone I would want at my back, besides the men standing around me now, it would be Fix. He wasn’t given that road name for no reason. He sees a problem and fixes it.
If shit hits the fan tonight, we’ll need not only another set of eyes, but someone who will do what needs to be done.
Dodge shrugs, glancing my way. “It wouldn’t hurt.”
I look at Smoke. “Make the call. Tell him we’re heading out and to meet us on the road.”
As he makes his way into the garage to call Fix, I hold up a finger, letting Stress know it’ll be just another minute. When I glance at Dodger and the triplets, I see the concern in their eyes.
“Who are we meeting up with?” Dodger asks, dropping his cigarette, crushing it under the toe of his boot.
“Well, the club’s VP is usually there, along with three or four guys. So… Mustang and probably Chopper, Linch, and English. At least that’s who showed for the last few meetings.” Sighing, I lean back against my bike. “They’re all good guys. We’ve never had trouble with them before. I can’t see why today would be any different.”
“Unless Fat Mike did something to set them off,” Talon suggests.
His comment earns a lot of agreement from the rest of them and a quick nod from Viper, who flicks out one of his knives and begins to spin it in his hand.
I glance toward the garage, seeing Smoke walking our way. “And?” I ask.
“He’s on his way. Once I told him what was going on, he immediately headed out the front door.”
“Okay.” I straighten and swing my leg over my bike. “Let’s get this over with.” Raising a hand, I make a circular motion and hear Stress rev the van in response. We are as prepared as we are ever going to be.
Smoke and Dodger follow, giving a quick wave to the triplets as we pull out. The boys had made some noise about being left out, but I told them I didn’t want to pull up with a huge crew and give Mustang and the others the wrong idea.
Once on the road, I think about seeing Fat Mike and Freddie in conversation. Between that and the secret meeting they had earlier, I can only come to one conclusion. They are up to something, and it’s probably not going to be good for the rest of us.
But as Fix pulls out from one of the side streets and falls in behind the van, I release a small grin, the tightening in my chest loosening just a bit. Not enough for me to feel completely comfortable about tonight, but enough that if shit does hit the fan, I like our odds.
ChapterFour
Maverick
It takes us almost twenty minutes to get to the warehouse. Not bad, but it does put us about three minutes late.
So I’m not surprised to find the Dead Man’s Curse boys already waiting for us.
Mustang leans against his bike, arms crossed, head tilted slightly as he listens to something one of his guys, Linch, has to say.
Whatever he hears doesn’t make him happy. Even at this distance, I see him frown before giving Linch a quick shake of his head. He then straightens from his bike as we pull to a stop a few feet away.
Dismounting, I motion to the other guys to stay put as I make my way toward Mustang, meeting him halfway between our groups, stopping a few feet from each other.
“Maverick.”
I know something is up just by the way he says my name. It isn’t as if we’re friends, but we have been working with each other long enough that I can pick up on his mood just by his tone of voice.
And he is pissed.
Releasing a hiss of air, I nod. “Mustang.”
