CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sean had never given Joe a reason not to trust him. It was true, he was an opportunist; the exact opposite of Colt, whose Steel Jockeys loyalty ran deep in his veins. Sean had been a Steel Jockey for as long as Joe, but at heart he looked out for himself--he wouldn't hesitate to throw over an ally or a supplier if he felt there was something in it for him, and his propensity for sleeping with the sisters, wives, and even mothers of members of other M.C.s was legendary.

 

On the other hand, through sheer audacity and occasional recklessness, he'd probably done more than any charter president other than Kyle for turning the younger generation of Steel Jockeys into a force. Nobody who didn't have a death wish challenged him. That strength, Joe had reasoned, was enough to trust that he and Ruby would be safe with him. But he most certainly didn’t expect to hear what Sean was now suggesting to him.

 

"Why not leave her here?"

 

Joe put down his glass of Jack on the rocks. "What?"

 

"Look, Desiree's the oldest of three sisters. She's a girly-girl and, in case you didn't notice, there's not a lot of that around here most of the time. She knows how to take care of her. Plus, there's another little matter Ruby could help with."

 

"Does this 'little matter' resemble anything I might find on the Spice Channel?"

 

Sean laughed in a way that was charming and vaguely menacing. "I had the pleasure to encounter Brenda Weston the other day when I was over on some business in Fresno."

 

Joe buried his head in hands. "Tony's mom? Damn, she's a ball-breaker. I'm surprised that cute little nose of yours is still intact."

 

"Nah, it was mostly lower-body work this time." Sean gave a rueful grimace, pounding the area near his thigh. "Anyway, she says she's going to get to the bottom of it. She says that since the Reapers popped up, the Jockeys have been nothing but a liability to the Weston clan, and she's going to see that someone pays for it. Whether it's the Reapers or us, she doesn't much care."

 

Joe moaned. "That's the absolute last thing we need is Brenda Weston going off half-cocked on some personal vendetta. I hope you talked her down."

 

"Tried. And failed. That's the thing, Joe. Having Kyle Clarke's sister here with us here would be a show of good faith that the Steel Jockeys are on top of things. That we’re still intact and that we can look after our own."

 

"So that's it? You don't really care about Ruby. You just want to keep her here locked up under glass to trot out if somebody starts questioning how we do things."

 

Sean grinned. "Oh, you can bet I'll take her out more often than that. She's too gorgeous to be kept in the garage. Speaking of, you taken a spin on her yet?"

 

"You really make me sick to my stomach sometimes. She has a job, you know, Sean. An apartment. A life. This is 21st century America, not Afghanistan.”

 

"Hey, it's not bad here,” he insisted. “What are you going to do with her anyway? Take her back your little hovel in Madelia? You know she can't go back to Oakland, job or no job. Not when the Reapers are howling the way they have been lately. The minute you turn your back, some Reaper is going to stick a switchblade between her ribs and drag her off to whatever shithole they're hiding out in, and you'll never see her again. Or worse, when you do see her, she'll be on the back of one their bikes. Is that what you want for Clarke's sister? Besides, chances are she won't even want to go back, not after what happened earlier today." Joe took a big swig, trying to calm his nerves. "You haven't told her she can't go back to Oakland yet, have you?"

 

"Well, if she does, she's going back to Fox Keene."

 

"Oh, man," Sean hooted, pulling back from his chair. "This keeps getting better and better. What do you mean by ‘back to,’ exactly?"

 

Joe crossed his arms. "They're close. That's all I know. That’s all I want to know. Anyway, it's a mess. She doesn't know the half of it, and she wouldn't believe me if I told her."

 

"You mean you haven't told her about the night Kyle died?"

 

"Are you insane? When she first saw me, she looked at me like somebody had released the Kraken. She thinks the rest of the Jockeys are worse. Thank god she hasn’t had a chance to get to know you yet. If I want her to trust me, I need something to work with."

 

"Speaking of work, where is Aaron Beeson in all this? Your precious supplier whose latest ‘supply’ to Tony was an IV drip?"

 

"Seems like he took off around the same time Tony got stabbed. I figure if I can root him out, I can at least get an explanation for how they got to him.” Joe had done some thinking on the ride into Fresno, and the good news was that instead of a complete lack of ideas for how to get to the bottom of this quagmire, he at least had an inkling--something he could tell Ruby. “And then at least I'll know where to start untangling this mess, and maybe even satisfy A.J. and the rest of the guys who won't be happy until whoever killed Kyle is face down in a pool of his own blood."

 

"Do you think Beeson is with the Reapers?"

 

"Either that or they got to him somehow. I know Tony believed it was Beeson who called to make the deal; he knows his voice; he's talked to him before. It was Beeson’s burner phone; the last number he used at least."

 

"How the hell did they get to this guy? I thought he moved to some compound in Mexico.”

 

“Look, I don’t know what’s the hell’s going on. But I’m going to find out, and I’m going to start with Beeson. If only so I can keep my promise to Ruby to keep her safe. I promised Kyle and I promised her. That’s what matters to me.” The more he spoke the words, the more their truth lodged within him. That was what mattered; maybe all that mattered. Despite whatever the M.C. wanted.

 

Sean stared at him. “You like her.”

 

Joe pushed back from his chair, hoping he wasn’t making it too obvious that he was dodging the question, and called to Desiree, who was watching a TV in the back room turned to The Bachelor. "I need a refill. You?"

 

"Look at that. Our little Joey Ryan’s in love. Sunrise, sunset.”

 

"Fuck you," he said, running his hands through his hair. He was beginning to regret not sleeping that night; he was half-tempted to ask Sean if he had a couch in the back room that he could crash on for a couple of hours. He didn't dare try to go next door this late and risk frightening Ruby out of her skin, although he also realized that he didn't like the idea of her sleeping over there all alone. Desiree hadn't told him she'd be heading back to the bar after getting her houseguest settled. "That's not what this is about."

 

Sean smiled and took a contented and infuriating sip of his whiskey. "Are you lying to yourself or are you lying to her?"

 

"I'd rather not be lying at all."

 

Sean put his glass down, lifted his heavy boots up on a chair, and placed his hands behind his back. "Then boy are you in the wrong line of work."