Gunn

Sly and Dex stayed behind closed doors for most of the morning. That kind of thing made me edgy. It usually meant something was about to go sideways. But there was harmony between them we didn’t always have. Dex spent over a dozen years in the penitentiary for some shit that went down before my time. It was all bullshit. He’d been framed by someone looking to hurt the club.

Dex got out about five years ago, the same year I patched in. He was good for Sly. Our prez had a shrewd head for business, but sometimes he let his emotions run hotter than was good for him or the club. Dex was calmer, more stoic. I figure all those years in the joint for a crime he didn’t commit had forced him to learn patience. He and Sly’s old lady kept Sly grounded in a way that was good for everybody.

“Any idea what the hell’s going on in there?” Switch grabbed a beer and sat down next to me at the bar.

“Sly’ll call Church when he’s ready,” I said, finishing the last of my own beer. My words came out a little shorter than I wanted. It wasn’t just Sly and Dex’s pre-Church meeting spinning my thoughts. It was Brenna too.

Brenna Rose. I still couldn’t believe that was her. She was supposed to be just a skinny little knock-kneed thing with braces and a smart mouth. But seven years was a long time and she’d had to grow up without Scotty. The air went out of me as I thought about him.

Take care of her. His last words to me. I’d done the best I could. Scotty’s old man, Tim Rose, was about the meanest son of a bitch I knew. He’d put his wife in the hospital more times than I could count. She kept on going back to him. When Scotty was old enough, he protected her by drawing his dad’s anger on himself. He figured he could take the beatings better. For a while, he did. I never thought I’d ever meet a man worse than my own father. Tim Rose ought to be in the fucking bastard hall of fame.

The door to Sly’s office opened. I couldn’t read his expression, except he wasn’t smiling. That didn’t have to mean anything but my gut told me it did. Switch and I slid off our stools. Charlie Brogan stood in the hallway at the back of the bar. He put two fingers to his lips and let out an ear-splitting whistle to call in the rest of the guys. Charlie was the last of the old-timers. He had a big round belly and curly gray hair that hung past his shoulders. His old lady Mo cooked for us on weekends and kept our shit straight.

Tiny, Big John, Ford, Marcus, Angel, Curtis, then Switch and I filed into the meeting room. Dex was already in his seat at Sly’s right hand. Marcus, our sergeant-at-arms, took the seat to his left as Sly closed the door after Charlie. I sat at the other end of the table in between Switch and Angel.

Sly took a minute before he said anything. Shit. He shot a look to Dex. If I hadn’t been looking straight at him, I would have missed it, but Dex’s eyes darted to me for a split second. Whatever Sly had to say, it was gonna fall squarely on me.

“We’ve got a situation,” Sly finally said. “Now, I don’t want anybody going off half-cocked, but we need to deal with it. Dex, you wanna fill everybody in on the details?”

“It’s rumors, mostly,” Dex said. He sat back in his chair, draping his arm over the back of it. “But I’m seeing enough breadcrumbs to start wondering where they lead. First, Barlow’s started upping their prices.”

The Barlow Family was our main beer distributor in the bar. They were good people but with shady connections. Hell, I suppose most people could say the same about the Great Wolves M.C.

“And I’ve heard some rumblings that they’re looking at ways of pulling out of their contract with us. Now, this could all be nothing, but not today, they’re late on a shipment. We can cover, but I just don’t like the timing.”

“Fucking A,” Charlie said. “We’ve got our biggest weekend of the year coming up.”

Charlie was right. This weekend was the 21st Century Fighting League Championship. The Den would be packed. If the Barlows were trying to fuck with that, there had to be a reason. Toby Barlow wasn’t stupid. If he had the balls to try and screw Sly over, it meant he thought he had someone bigger to protect him.

“You think this is the Hawks stirring shit up again?” Switch asked. I winced when he did. Man, I didn’t want to go there. None of us did. The Devils Hawks M.C. were our main club rival in California. The last time they’d caused trouble we ended up taking out their prez. Things had been calm for years, but we always knew that wouldn’t last forever.

“How do you want to play this?” I asked.

Dex and Sly exchanged that look they always did. I swear, I think they had some sort of psychic link between them.

“You think you’re up to taking a couple of the probies out to see Toby?” Sly asked me.

“You know you don’t even need to ask me that,” I answered. “Can I pick ’em?”

Sly flipped his palms up, giving me the go-ahead gesture.

“I think Teague and Josh are showing some promise.” I got some nods from the other guys. It had been a while since we’d patched in any new members. Curtis was the last one. It was a tough call. Dex and Sly were in their mid-forties. Though Sly was years away from wanting to step down, he wouldn’t want the gavel forever. We had to think of the future of the club.

“That’s good,” he said. “Now is there anything else we need to talk about? How are things down at the shop?”

“Business is good,” I said. “Speaking of rumors, there’s one going around the Iron Knights up in Seattle are gonna send all their business down our way.”

Sly had a crater of a dimple in his cheek. Before he shacked up with Scarlett, he could use it to get any chick he wanted. They went for it every time. Now, if any other woman so much as looked at Sly, they’d have all six feet of Scarlett Shaw in their face. She was an Amazonian hell on wheels and the only woman who’d ever really turned Sly’s head. They were good together, even if it took the rest of the guys some time to warm up to her.

He rapped his knuckles on the table. “That’s good fucking news, Gunn. You’ve turned that place into a real cash cow. I know Benny’s gotta be proud as hell.”

I’d taken the bike shop over from Benny Hurley just three years ago. It had been a hard sell but he was getting on in years and Sly needed someone he’d trust with his life working on our bikes on a permanent basis. Benny was good. He was a local treasure, actually. He still lived in the apartment above the shop and I had no problem with him hanging around and helping out when he felt up to it. His eyes were starting to go.

“He’s happier than a pig in shit,” I said. “He gets to do what he loves, tinker with engines. And he doesn’t have to deal with any of the business side.”

“You probably added ten years to the old man’s life,” Charlie chimed in. He and Benny had been friends since they were kids. I knew for a while, Benny had even tried to patch in. But he wasn’t cut out for club life full time. That brought us to Josh. He was Benny’s great-nephew on his sister’s side. He worked for me now down at the shop. I knew Benny was hoping to live vicariously through him and live to see Josh wearing a G.W.M.C. cut.

“It’s all good,” Sly said. “Now, enough business. There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell everybody.” His cheeks turned bright red and his eyes held a little sparkle. Smiles broke out around the table.

“There’s only one thing that would put that shit-eating grin on your face,” Tiny said. I turned to look at him and Tiny already had a tear in his eye.

Dex reached over and squeezed Sly’s shoulder. He looked about ready to choke up himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sly said. “Scarlett and I are finally setting a date. We’re going to make it official.”

This got him a round of applause. Shit. I was happy for him. He and Scarlett had been together for over five years. They split their time between her beach house and Sly’s place here in town. This was good. This was right.

“Fuck, yeah,” Marcus said. “About damn time.”

“What’d you do, put a gun to her head?” Angel laughed. Sly flashed him a middle finger. But a second later, we were all on our feet lining up to give Sly a handshake and a slap on the back.

“She doesn’t want to make a fuss,” Sly said. “Just a small, quiet ceremony. But we both want a big-ass party afterward. We need one. It’s been a while.”

Charlie slapped his hands together. He didn’t even wait for Sly to bang the gavel before he burst out the door and started yelling for Mo. I had a hunch she already knew what was up. Nothing got by that woman. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had half the menu planned for the feast Sly wanted to throw.

“Congratulations,” I said, slugging Sly in the shoulder. “That’s damn good news, man.”

“Thanks.” Somehow, I happened to be the last guy to get to Sly. The rest of them started filing out and descended on the bar. We didn’t open to the public for another couple of hours but they’d use any excuse to get that tap flowing. In another few minutes, I hoped to join them.

One look at Dex and I knew I might need to put that off. It seemed Sly wasn’t done talking business.

“Hey,” he said. Dex stayed behind. He didn’t shut the door, but he stood in front of it, shielding our conversation from the others.

“What’s really going on?” I asked. “This shit with Barlow. You’re worried, aren’t you?”

Sly ran a hand over his gruff, blond stubble. “Not so much worried. Just ... be careful. Don’t take any risks. Watch your back. It’s nothing big. I just got a bad feeling about this one. And it’s probably just me being jumpy. Things are good. Great. That’s always when I think the fucking sky’s about to fall.”

“I got this,” I said. “I’ve known Toby forever. I can read him. If there’s something going down with the Hawks, he’ll let me know whether he wants to or not. And like I said, it’ll be good for Teague and Josh to get their feet wet. I just need to know how far you want me to take things with Toby.”

“I’m gonna leave that up to your judgment,” Sly answered. “Just make Teague and Josh know they follow your lead. They are both good kids but Josh in particular is hungry to make a name for himself. We all know that hunger. He’s young. It can lead to trouble.”

My heart clenched. Sly locked eyes with me. This wasn’t a lecture, just a reminder. Seven years ago, Scotty had been the one with that young hunger. It had been just this kind of run that ended his life. The shots had come from nowhere. Over nothing. In the end, it had just been another hungry punk trying to catch the Hawks’ attention by messing with the Great Wolves. The Hawks’ prez at the time, Bruce Kagan, had carried out the hit on the shooter himself to keep the peace between our clubs.

“He’ll be sharp,” I said. “And I wouldn’t trust him with this if I didn’t think he’d earned it.”

Sly had a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “You got anything else on your mind today?”

I shook my head. The man was prez for a reason. He looked out for all of us and never missed a fucking trick, it seemed. Sly’s grin returned.

“Ford and Switch filled me in on who showed up in our club the other night. Scotty’s little sister is all grown up, huh?”

I scowled. “Not grown up enough. She’s underage. Marcus never should have let her in the front door.”

Sly slapped my back. “Yeah. I talked to him about that. He said she had a fake ID. And a good one. If you plan on catching up with her, you might want to tell her not to try using that thing in my bar again. I don’t need that kind of heat. But maybe also figure out where she got it from. That’s the kind of intel we need to have. If there’s a new player in town, I don’t wanna be caught with my ass hanging out.”

“Got it,” I said. “I ... uh ... I’m planning to meet her tomorrow morning. She dropped her purse in the parking lot.”

“Good,” Sly said. “I’ll mind my own damn business, but do what you can to find that shit out for me.”

I shook Sly’s hand one more time to let him know we were on the same page. Dex stepped aside and let me pass. The rest of the guys were already partying up in pre-celebration. Sly was going to have to get moving if he wanted to catch up. For my part, I was on the clock. I grabbed two mugs of beer away from Teague and Josh before they had a chance to finish. One sharp look from me and their protests died on their lips. I jerked my chin and they were on their feet, following me out to the parking lot.