Eight
Candy
“You know I’m gonna ask it,” Jinx said, and Candy smiled grimly to himself.
“Yeah, I know.”
“You gonna explain it?”
“I guess I will.”
Jinx shrugged, the tattoos on his bare arms rippling. He studied his fingernails as he scraped dirt from beneath them with his switchblade. He was curious, but he wasn’t going to be an ass about it. Disinterested in all things, that was Jinxie.
They sat on their bikes, boots braced in the pale dirt, waiting for the razor-wire gates up ahead to roll open and release Jud Riley out into the world. It was five til; they’d arrived early.
Candy took a deep breath and let it out, feeling tense and tired. “You’ve met Mercy’s old lady?”
Jinx might have grinned, but it was always hard to tell with the beard. “She wasn’t his old lady when I did, but yeah.”
“You know the story.” Because they all did. The tale of the overly devoted foot soldier and his princess had become a part of Lean Dogs lore. Once upon a time Ghost Teague had been struck with the brilliant idea of finding a personal guard for his daughter, and he’d seen all the markers of obsession and need in a young Felix Lécuyer. “Anybody else woulda done his job with Ava, but he wouldn’t have…”
“Fucked her?”
“Thrown himself in front of a bullet for her,” Candy corrected. “Ghost ain’t never had to worry one second about his girls.” He glanced meaningfully at his best friend. “I’m tired of being worried about Jen.”
Jinx finally lifted his head. “I think you’re always gonna worry about Jen, brother.”
“Yeah.” And didn’t that suck? “My point is, though, that it’d be nice for her to have someone who was invested. Someone besides me.”
Jinx made a noise that might have been a chuckle. “You’re an evil genius, ain’t you?”
“I like to pretend.”
The soft crunch of tires pulled their attention. A late model shit-brown Impala came to a halt fifteen feet away, the tint-free windows offering a clear glimpse of the man behind the wheel. Bad blue suit, skinny tie, cheap sunglasses. Straight out of a bad eighties cop movie, that was Elijah Riley.
“My pal,” Candy said.
“I’ma try to hold you back, brother,” Jinx said with a snort, “but I ain’t ever been any good at that.”
“Try a little harder.”
The driver door of the Impala opened.
“Oh, he’s not getting out of his car,” Candy said.
A booted foot reached out, touched the ground.
“That asshole is not getting out of his car.”
“Seeing is believing,” Jinx said on a smothered laugh.
A second foot, and then Riley stood, surveying this barren stretch of land. Expression smug, he shut his door and headed over.
“I know he’s not walking over here,” Candy said, loudly.
“Oh, but he is.”
“I just know that asshole’s not gonna try to speak to me.”
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Agent Riley said, hands going in his bad-blue-suit pants pockets.
Jinx folded his arms and put on his formidable face.
“Pinch me, Jinx,” Candy said. “I wanna wake up from this nightmare. There’s an ugly dickhead standing in front of me.”
Of the two Riley brothers, Judson had received the lion’s share of the good looks. By comparison, Elijah was square-headed and uninspiring to look at. His smile was made worse by the grimace that hid behind it. “Good to see you’re as charming as ever, Snow. To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”
Candy snorted. “I know it’s hard for you, but try not to play dumb. You know damn well why I’m here.”
“I can promise you my brother doesn’t give a shit about your little club.”
Candy grinned. “God, you are dumb.”
The agent’s brows flicked together over his sunglasses.
“I’m just saying. If a man gets kicked out of the club he’s been running, he’s gonna be out for blood.”
“You think awfully highly of your club.”
“You think awfully highly of your brother.”
They all heard the gates unlatch, and turned that direction.
Two officers pushed aside the heavy wire gates, and there, standing in the center, grocery sack full of his personal belongings, stood Jen’s ex-husband, Judson Riley. Former VP of the Amarillo chapter of the Dogs. Former right hand man of Crockett. Former friend to Candy.
Locked up for spousal abuse.
Candy’s gut clenched tight. Hate was a strong word, but in this instance, it was the right word. He’d left Amarillo seven years ago to spend time developing the Canadian/US gun pipeline with the New York chapter, leaving behind a happily married sister and a competent club. He’d come back when Jen’s voice cracked over the phone and he’d realized the horrible lie she’d been living. Riley had known he was on his way; he had beaten Jenny to within an inch of her life. Candy had found her unconscious in a dorm room, face a mess of bruises, suffering a fever from the infected knife marks along her arms.
He’d taken her to the hospital himself, sat by her bedside for three nights, until she was awake. Then he’d had Riley arrested – he’d held Jenny’s hand as her voice shook and she stammered out her tale to the police. And then…then he’d started cleaning house, one jackass at a time. He hoped to God no one ever took a backhoe to the flat stretch of land out behind the clubhouse; there was more than one body to dig up.
Riley halted, hand tensing on the handles of his bag, face blanking over with surprise as he spotted Candy and Jinx.
A handsome man, Riley. An evil man.
Elijah walked forward to meet him. “Brother,” he said, and pulled his younger sibling into a tight embrace.
Riley’s eyes never left Candy.
The two brothers, one outlaw, one ATF agent, walked to the unmarked car, eyes downcast.
“Hey,” Candy called when they were near.
Elijah kept going, getting behind the wheel.
Jud halted, head lifting in a reluctant way. His stare was black, full of hate.
“I don’t need to tell you,” Candy said, “that you need to go away and never be heard from again. But I’m telling you anyway. I don’t ever wanna see your face again, Riley. None of us do.”
Riley stared him down a long moment, expression unreadable. “Tell your sister I said hello,” he said, finally, climbed into his brother’s car, and was gone.