Page 17 of Beyond the Badge: Crew

“Hear anything interesting this morning?” Crew asked him.

“Fuck no. Too early for them to be up and about. I’m going over some of last night’s chatter.”

“And?”

“Not much,” Reynolds answered.

“Got something for you,” Torres called out. “Was listening in on Wolf’s conversation last night with Viper. He brought up that Ghost has been riding his ass about patching over.”

Ghost was Fletch’s undercover road name. “Yeah? Are they considering it?”

“Wolf didn’t sound so thrilled about it. Viper showed a bit of interest, but they ended up dropping that line of conversation to talk about… and I quote… bitches and cunts. Sorry, Cabrera.”

She flung a hand over her shoulder. “No offense taken since I assume you don’t call women that yourself.”

“Hell no. My wife would slice my nuts off and shove them down the garbage disposal. She’d flip the start switch so fast, she’d break her damn hand.”

Crew’s stomach churned at that visual. “Jesus fuck, Torres, it’s too early for that shit. At least let me finish my first cup of coffee.”

He shrugged. “Ain’t a lie, though.”

“Okay, that might mean that Beavis and Butthead are at least considering it,” Crew concluded. “Hopefully.”

“It’s certainly not one of their priorities, that’s for damn sure,” Torres said. “They’re more interested in making money and treating women like shit.”

“If they allow Fletch to patch over, they’ll lose money. That’s why they aren’t giving it any serious thought,” Nox mumbled from where he sat fast-forwarding through some recorded footage from the Wolf Den.

“Yeah,” Crew said on a sigh. “I was hoping they’d go for it since we’re out of options for getting anyone planted in their MC.”

Torres spun around in his seat and caught Crew’s gaze before letting it slide to Cabrera and back.

Crew shook his head.

Torres shrugged.

Crew went to stand next to him and said under his breath, “We’ve all seen and heard how they treat women. They only keep them around for their use and abuse. And even if it would be safe for her, you think they’d accept her?” He lifted his eyebrows, hoping Torres, out of anyone, would pick up what he was putting down.

“Yeah, maybe not. She’s not their flavor. But you never know. Aren’t bikers ‘born to be wild?’ I can’t imagine anyone in their right mind would say no to her.” Torres then mouthed, “She’s hot,” and bit his bottom lip.

Crew beat back the curl of his own lip. “They’re not getting wild with her. Like I said, you know what they do to women. And I wouldn’t allow her to do any of that, anyway. Neither would my superiors. Or her father.”

Torres’ head jerked back and his eyes went wide. “Fuck. We did have that conversation yesterday.”

Crew pinned his lips together and nodded.

“Might as well get out a helmet and some bubble wrap. We need to make sure she doesn’t even get a damn scratch. Do you think he’s how she got her job?”

“That would be my guess,” Crew murmured, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Cabrera didn’t hear any of their conversation.

She seemed to be still engrossed in those exciting daily reports.

“My advice would be to give her the safest tasks you can,” Torres suggested. “Like admin work.”

“Why do you think I have her reading the dailies?” Crew tapped his temple.

“And here I thought it was to get up to speed with the rest of us.”

“Also… keep your Spanish to a minimum during work hours.”

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