27

It was early the next afternoon, Ruger was in his office at Drifters, working on the schedule, orders, and the book keeping when Marge knocked on the door.

“It's open,” he called. The door opened and Marge stuck her head in.

“There's a man out here asking for you,” she said.

“Who is it?” Ruger looked up.

“No clue. I've never seen him before.”

“All right. I'll be right out.”

“Yes, sir.” She disappeared, closing the door on her way out. Ruger took a deep breath and stood. He went out to the bar to see what was up, stepped out of his office and noticed the man standing at the bar. With only a couple local drunks in the place, it's easy to spot the one unfamiliar face. The moment he got a good look at the man he knew who he was but he did his best to keep the recognition off his face.

“I’m the manager, I understand you wanted to speak with me?” Ruger looked at him and knew this wasn't a good idea. He was here without any of his brothers around but he didn't see any way out of it. The man was standing right in front of him.

Ruger had known the man on sight, but it wasn't a good idea to let him know that. He'd not met the man before but he'd seen several pictures. If the puckered scar on his right cheek wasn't enough, the flaming trident tattooed on his neck was a dead giveaway.

“If you're the man known as Ruger, I do.”

“I am.” Ruger glanced around the room again. “Why don't we have a seat while we talk.” He motioned to a booth in the corner that would give them a bit of privacy while still being in plain sight. The other man nodded and started in that direction. “Can I interest you in something to drink? On the house, of course.”

The man known as Switchblade turned and scanned the bar area. “I'll have a Tacate.”

“Excellent.” Ruger turned to Marge. “Two Tacates to the table in the corner and make it snappy.” The last phrase wasn't to tell her to deliver the drinks quickly, though it was designed to sound that way. It was a code phrase designed to let her know she needed to call in some back up. There was a button under the bar she could hit without anyone noticing. It would send a signal to the rest of the brothers that help was needed at Drifters. It was something Gizmo had set up for him. They'd never needed it before but he was glad he'd let the guy do it now. He turned and went to the table without waiting for a response.

At the table, he sat down and waited for the other man to sit and get comfortable before saying anything.

“What can I do for you?” Ruger did his best to pretend this was something he did every day.

“You can tell me where my daughter is,” Switchblade said, his face serious but not menacing. Ruger blinked and stared back.

“I'm sorry, you're going to have to give me more information.”

Marge brought their drinks, setting a bottle topped with a wedge of lime in front of each of them. Switchblade never took his eyes off Ruger but waited until she was gone before speaking.

“Krystal Erika Montoya, better known as Krissi. She disappeared nearly a week ago. My sources say she's involved with you and I want to know what happened to her.”

Ruger took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He didn't see any way around it. He was going to have to tell him something.

“My club had a disagreement with another local club. It was a territory dispute but it involved some of their hookers. One of their guys decided that the way to end it was to take my girl. He was right. It ended it, but not the way he'd anticipated.” Ruger took a long pull from his beer.

“And my daughter?” The older man lifted his brows while he waited.

“She was smacked around some but nothing that won't heal in a few weeks, most of it will be gone in a few more days.”

“So, where is she? She's not been to her apartment or school in days.”

“She's been staying at my club's headquarters. I wanted to make sure our business with the other club was taken care of and she was no longer in any danger.”

The other man started at him for several long seconds. “Why should I trust you on this?”

Ruger stared back, wondering what he should say to the man. What wouldn't piss off Tuck or the man known to kill at the drop of a hat and was named after the tool he preferred to use? He decided to hell with it, he didn't see how he had many options. “Honestly, it's not you I'm worried about. It's Krissi. She's the one I want to keep safe. She's the one who's trust I'm concerned with. The man who took her was arrested. It seems there was a fire the night he kidnapped her and when the fire department showed up they found him unconscious and sprawled out on top of enough layers of blood that there are likely several bodies somewhere waiting to be found. I'm hearing there was more than enough evidence on site to put him away for a long, long time.

Switchblade's eyes narrowed. “You didn't kill the son of a bitch who hurt my girl?”

“I was busy taking care of my girl. I didn't have any input on the decision, but to be honest, I'd probably have killed him and then regretted it. Not because he was dead, that wouldn't bother me. But it would bother Krissi that I'd done it. That is why I would regret it.”

“I assume you know who I am.”

“I've heard of you, though I didn't know you were related to my girl when I started seeing her. By the time I found out, it was too late. She was mine and that was all that mattered anymore.”

The bell over the door rang and Ruger glanced over to see Crash walk in, Lurch right behind him. They were both wearing their kuttes but had turned them inside out so their patches didn't show. He turned his attention back to Switchblade, acting as if he didn't know the men.

Switchblade took a long drink and eyed Ruger. “I'm trying to decide if you're brave or stupid.” Ruger remained silent, waiting to see where he was going with this. “There are more than a few who fear me, but you don't seem to. You only seem to care what Krystal thinks.” The man kept watching Ruger. He leaned back in the bench, put one fist on his thigh and took a drink from a bottle on the table. “I take it you know she says she wants nothing to do with me?”

Ruger didn't react, just looked back at the older man with calm eyes. “She said something along those lines.”

Switchblade shook his head and looked at the beer bottle for a moment, fiddling with it while he thought. “I'm not sure which I respect more, that you don't seem to be afraid of me or that you're loyal to her. Though, the not fearing me, that is a mistake.”

“I am loyal to her. She's my girl and I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even from you if I have to.”

“It is a hard thing when your own flesh and blood wants nothing to do with you.” Switchblade ran one finger around and around the mouth of his beer bottle. “You want to take care of them. See that they are taken care of, safe and if possible, happy. Even if they don't want you around. Even so, you do what you can, you try to keep an eye on them from afar. Make sure no one is using them or hurting them, despite what they think they want.

“But there is only so much you can do from almost five hundred miles away. I am not unaware that is exactly why she is so far from home.” His eyes looked sad but Ruger knew better than to say anything. Switchblade took a breath and let it out in a rush, his eyes still on the beer in his hand. “As a father, it does my old heart good to know she has someone here who's looking out for her. Someone who cares about her enough to kill for her.” He looked up and met Ruger's gaze. “As a man with my reputation, I feel like I should tell you that if you hurt her, you will die.”

Ruger had no doubt the man meant what he said. He did have a reputation after all, for killing for much less. “I'll keep that in mind.”

“I'll take your word for my daughter's whereabouts, for now, but if she doesn't resume her life soon, I'll be back.” Switchblade stood and turned toward the door then stopped and looked back at Ruger. “Thanks for the drink.” He left without another word.

Ruger waited until the man was gone and the door had swung shut behind him then let out the breath he'd been holding since the other man had stood. He let his head drop until his chin hit his chest. He stayed that way for several seconds, until he heard the scuff of boots on the bar floor approaching. Looking up, he found Lurch and Crash coming to join him at the table, each carrying their beer with them.

“Was that who I think it was?” Lurch said, sliding into the seat Switchblade had just vacated at the opposite side of the booth. Crash grabbed a char from a nearby table, dragged it close, flipped it backward and straddled the back as he sat facing the two others. Ruger looked up and met Lurch's gaze.

“If you think it was the president of Los Diablos Locos, and my woman's father, you'd be right.”

Crash looked toward the door where Switchblade had just left and gave a long, low whistle.

“What did he want?” Lurch asked without looking away from Ruger.

“To make sure his daughter is safe.” Ruger took a deep breath and looked away. “Either he has at least one of his men in the area or he has someone local keeping an eye on her and reporting back to him.”

“And they came to you because?” Lurch trailed off, waiting for someone to complete his sentence.

“Because whoever's reporting to him told him they'd seen her with me. He came in here and asked for me, knew me by name.”

“Shit. What else does he know?” Crash asked.

“Fuck, Crash. Shout it for everyone, why don't you?” Lurch drawled.

“Sorry.” Crash looked embarrassed. He turned back to Ruger. “If he knew your name and where to find you, does he know about the club too?” He spoke in a hushed voice.

For a moment, Ruger wondered how Crash has managed to get patched in. In so many ways Crash didn't seem to fit. He fumbled and was awkward in the most basic of situations but Ruger knew from experience that as awkward as Crash was in everyday life, he was just as smooth in tense situations. It was earie.

“I'm sure he knows about the Souls. Just like every other club in three states. We have a certain reputation you know.”

“That's not what I meant.”

“I know but no one but people we are certain we can trust knows what you are talking about.” Ruger scanned the bar. “He made sure I was aware of who he is and made threats about if she doesn't go back to her life or if I hurt her.” He paused and tilted his head to one side. “It seemed to impress him that I'm loyal enough to her that he doesn't intimidate me. But only time will tell for sure.”

“You planning on telling your woman about the visit?”

“I hadn't thought about it yet, but probably. Like I told him, it's her trust that matters to me, and keeping his visit from her isn't the way to keep that.”

“You have a point, dude.” Crash nodded slowly. Lurch looked at Crash then to Ruger and rolled his eyes. Ruger had noticed some time ago that he wasn't the only one who didn't quite understand Crash.

Ruger finished his drink and sat talking to the men for a little while longer then went back to his office and tried to finish the orders he'd been putting together when Switchblade had shown up. He couldn't get his mind to settle or focus on the numbers on the page. It kept wandering back to Krissi and wondering if she knew he was around. After another hour, he gave up. In the main bar, he made sure the relief bartender and waitresses had come in, then headed back to the club house and Krissi.

#

Back at the clubhouse Ruger parked his bike and went inside to find what amounted to a small party. Double D was topless and snaking her way around the stripper pole in the corner while four or five of the brothers sat around watching and shouting directions at her. Ruger rolled his eyes and scanned the room looking for Tuck but not finding him. He did spot Sadist though and headed in his direction.

“Hey.” He pulled a chair out from under the table where his best friend sat and seated himself. Ruger said nothing at first just sat and watched Sadist a moment. Sadist continued to talk to Watt for a couple minutes, until Watt got up and moved to another seat. Ruger had too much on his mind to pay attention to what they had been discussing, instead he thought about the implications of Switchblade being in the area. Not just with Krissi but with the Souls as well. They were going to have to be very careful how they operated and what went on while the man was in town.

“What's got you so out of it?” Sadist said, waving one hand in front of Ruger's face.

Realizing the other man was speaking to him, Ruger forced himself to focus. “What was that?”

“I asked what has you so out of it.”

“Bad news, man.”

“What? You got blue balls cause your girl's too hurt to fuck?”

Ruger flipped him the bird. “I wish it was only that.” He shook his head then met the other man's gaze. “Her father's in town.”

“What? Did she tell you that?” Sadist blinked and started at him for several seconds.

“I don't think she knows, but I haven't talked to her yet to be sure.”

“Then how do you know he's here for sure?”

“He came into the bar this afternoon and asked for me. By name.” Sadist was silent for several long minutes and Ruger wondered what he was thinking.

“Which name?”

“Huh?”

“You said he asked for you by name. Which name?”

“Ruger, why?” Ruger frowned. Where was Sadist going with this?

“Because that's a name he got off the street. It means while he's talking to the locals he may not have put together that Ruger and Wyatt are the same person.”

“Oh,” Ruger sat back a moment. “You're right. But I'm not sure why that would matter. My cover is solid.”

“Better safe than sorry, man. Switchblade is the kind to sniff out the slightest flaw in your background, then slice you open and let you bleed to death.”

Ruger tipped his head to one side but didn't argue. He couldn't. Sadist was right. “I know. This complicates things but I never saw it coming. I'm headed up to see Krissi. See how she reacts, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. I needed to give you an opportunity to make sure all is in the clear with the Souls.”

“No problem, I'll check with Tuck, Lurch and Gizmo and make sure our asses are covered. You go check with your girl. If I read her right she's gonna be pissed he's here.”

“I think so too.” Ruger pushed himself to his feet, waved one hand in his friend's direction and headed for the stairs.