Maxwell

 

I got out of there as quickly as I could. There was blood on me, Ruins’ blood, and I did my best to hide it just in case any nosy neighbors were looking out of windows from behind lace curtains. Not that there’d be a lot of lace in this neighborhood. I paused to stare at the picture, the one with Ruins and the woman, reminding me not so subtly of myself and Nicole.

 

Where was Ruins’ woman? Dead somewhere? His fault?

 

Probably. And now Nicole was missing, taken by Martin’s men, and there was no question in my mind now that they’d do whatever they had to to keep me in line. But what did that mean? Did it mean they expected me to take the fall for ratting out Spin without so much as a fight?

 

“That sounds like the gist,” I muttered to myself as I slid into the car. I sat there for several long minutes, just sitting behind the wheel, the car not started. I knew I had to get out of there. It wouldn’t be long now until the cops showed up due to some sort of complaint—I doubted that whoever had shot Ruins had used a silencer or anything fancy like that—and I definitely didn’t want to be here when they arrived. But I didn’t know where to go. I had to find Nicole, but Ruins hadn’t been as helpful as I’d hoped. I needed leverage against Martin before I could go after Nicole, but all Ruins had given me was a name.

 

Cain.

 

Some big shot here in California, from what Ruins had told me earlier, but why did Martin care about another gang in another state? Was he switching over? Giving up life as a Lion to join whoever this Cain was?

 

It was the only thing I could come up with, but something didn’t quite seem right about it. Even if Martin was turning to a new gang, which would be irksome but not unheard of, what was all this crap about Spin, then? After all, if Martin was leaving the club, he wouldn’t really care about Spin’s situation, much less who had been responsible for it.

 

I needed more information, but I had no idea where to get it.

 

Finally starting the car—I’d sat there for too long and was pushing my luck with every additional second I wasted—I made a U-turn at the end of the road, heading back the way I came. I still didn’t know what I was going to do, but I had gotten it into my head that I had only two options: drive around until I found Nicole or drive around until I found Cain.

 

Neither sounded like a particularly good plan, but they were all I had.

 

Just as I was pulling out of the neighborhood and onto the main road, my cell phone went off. Digging in my pocket for it, I jerked it out and caught it on the last ring. As soon as I heard the message, I knew who was calling.

 

“This call is from Clark County Corrections Facility. You are free to hang up at any time. To accept this call, please press—”

 

I jammed my finger into the number.

 

“Spin,” was all I said by way of greeting. I wasn’t sure exactly what this call was about, but it seemed like odd timing in my opinion. Where was the call when Martin first went and visited Spin? Where was the interest in a conversation then?

 

“Why are you running, Maxwell?”

 

I actually laughed into the phone, unable to stop myself. “Why am I running?” I repeated, incredulous. “Probably because you sent Martin and his goons after my—” I hesitated and couldn’t bring myself to say “wife” to Spin, though I didn’t know why. He probably already knew the whole deal as far as that was concerned. “—Nicole. They tried to fucking rape her, man. I couldn’t let her get dragged down like that.”

 

There was a long pause and I heard a clang in the background, speaking. I worried his time was up already and I wouldn’t get any more information about what was going on, but then he said in a low, angry voice, “They what? Martin did that?”

 

“Him and his boys. I don’t think it was him in the alley, but I know it was a couple of his.” I frowned, wondering why Spin would be asking me this. After all, hadn’t he given the order? Unless Martin was operating on his own. The thought struck me suddenly and it made a lot more sense than everything else I’d heard lately. Spin didn’t know what Martin was doing because Martin was pushing things too fast and Spin liked to think things through.

 

“I see,” Spin answered, his voice low and dangerous. “So you took your girl for safekeeping?”

 

I nodded, though he couldn’t hear me. “Yeah. I did. I thought you gave the order. You and Martin seemed awfully chummy when I left.”

 

There was a long pause, then, “He came to see me. We talked. We talked a lot, Maxwell, and he had some interesting things to say. You know what he told me?”

 

“I can guess.”

 

“He told me you’re why I’m locked up right now.” Pause. “Is that true?”

 

I wondered if there was any point to being honest. Would Spin believe me? But I knew there wasn’t any point in lying, so I just told him my side of it. “No, it’s not. I’m a lot of things, most of them not good qualities to have in a person, but I ain’t a rat. Never have been, if only because I hate the cops more than most.”

 

There was a sigh and I realized Spin wasn’t considering my words. Not because he didn’t believe me, but because he already knew what I was saying. He’d known all along and didn’t want to believe Martin.

 

At least that was what I hoped.

 

“Martin’s always been hot headed, too impulsive.” Spin paused, thinking something over. “I’ll call him next. Tell him to pull back and—”

 

I made a frustrated sound. Was Spin really so stupid as to think that was an option at this point? Martin would finish me—and Nicole, I thought with dread—and when Spin pushed him as to why, he’d claim we were dead before he got the order to fall back. Then he’d plant evidence, all fake, making all roads lead to me. Well, fuck that. I wasn’t having it. I wouldn’t be anyone’s scapegoat and I didn’t grow up in shitty home after shitty home just so I could let some asshole punk tell me I needed to play by some imaginary rules that didn’t seem to apply to anyone else.

 

“Don’t bother,” I snapped at him. “You know he won’t listen. And he’ll have a reason or a story, and then he’ll have proof, because he’s got it in for me. You give the order, but don’t be stupid enough to think he’ll follow it.”

 

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line and I knew calling him stupid was a dangerous risk, even in the way I tried it. It might go very badly for me, but I couldn’t muster up enough worry to care. After all, things were already pretty hellish, so what did I care? Wouldn’t be any worse off than I had been before this damn phone call.

 

“All right,” Spin finally said, sounding calm, though it was tense. “What do you need?”

 

“I got a name, but it doesn’t mean anything to me.”

 

“What’s the name?”

 

“Cain.”

 

“Cain?” Spin repeated, sounded slightly bewildered. “You mean Martin?”

 

I froze. Martin? “What are you talking about?”

 

“Yeah, Martin. Back in the day, a long time ago, before you came around, Martin used to go by another name. He said it was ’cause he didn’t want to be caught by the cops and a fake name made it easier to slide under the radar, but I never did buy that. He just liked scaring people, always has. Made quite a reputation for himself. That was why he switched back. When I became leader, I told him we weren’t playing those kinds of bullshit games anymore. He needed to retire the handle.”

 

I could imagine what the bullshit games were and I knew instinctively I didn’t like them. We dealt with drugs, guns, and boosting cars. Which meant there wasn’t a lot left we didn’t deal with, and judging by what Martin had ordered his goons to do to Nicole, I had a pretty good idea of just what that was.

 

“He was doing that and you still let him stay?” I demanded, disbelief clear in my voice.

 

I could almost hear Spin shrugging on the other end. “It wasn’t so simple. A lot of people liked Martin. A lot of ’em still do. Kicking him out meant half the club disbanded and suddenly we were left with a rival club full of a bunch of pissed off, meaner than hell, asshole bikers who had it in for us. If I let him stay, they would stay, and if he chose to leave later, well, that would be his thing, wouldn’t it? People wouldn’t be angry enough with me to leave with him.”

 

It made sense. With the dynamics of the group and the people within it, it made sense, but that didn’t make me like it any more.

 

“You could have just killed him,” I said darkly.

 

Spin laughed, full and throaty, amused by my brash statement. “Yes, I could have, and I’m starting to think I should have. But hindsight’s always twenty-twenty, isn’t it?”

 

“I think Martin—Cain—is the one who set you up,” I told Spin finally, bluntly. “Ruins is dead and that was the only name he’d give me when I asked.”

 

“Damnit. I should have known,” Spin admitted after a minute. “Martin’s always been power hungry. He’s not the kind of man who does well sitting sidesaddle, you know? I should have assumed he was up to something; he was so sure it was you.”

 

“You think he’s been trying to take over this whole time?”

 

Spin snorted in derision. “Probably. What’s your plan, Maxwell?”

 

I hesitated. Right that moment, I didn’t really have one. Knowing Martin was Cain was a big part of the puzzle and it potentially gave me leverage, but it didn’t tell me where they were. I needed more if I was going to save Nicole.

 

“What do you need?” Spin asked me again, his tone grave.

 

“Where would he go?”

 

Spin thought about it for a moment, then finally came to some kind of answer. “Here in Nevada, he’d go to Vegas. He’s got a place there, says it’s for some mistress, but I think he’s doing some dirty shit there.”

 

Vegas. That was a long way from here and Nicole had gotten into a cab. It was unlikely she’d gotten out of the cab and been picked up by them since her destination was probably LAX. Which meant she had to have been grabbed in the cab. Which meant they probably hadn’t driven across state lines.

 

I shook my head. No, they were still in California. “I don’t think he went home. I think they’re in California.”

 

“Cali? Well, shit, why didn’t you say so? He’s had family up in Malibu for forever. Bunch of rotten bastards.”

 

“Don’t call the others. I need to use what leverage I have if I’m going to save Nicole.”

 

Spin didn’t argue with me. All he said was, “Go get your girl and put that son of a bitch in his place.”

 

We hung up then, and I tore out of the gas station, headed for Malibu in search of Nicole.