Page 98 of Hendrix

“I’m good,” he rasped. “Hope you find the kid.”

“Thanks.” I turned and slid inside the car, giving him a loose one-finger salute through the open window.

To my surprise, he executed a perfect one back.

My chest panged.

Another veteran forgotten and on the streets. Suddenly, I hoped Charlie would take me up on my offer. The problem was, I also knew that often, the homeless community was institutionalized by their predicaments. After a while, it became a way of life and, in a weird way, even their security blanket.

“I can help you, man,” I relayed. “I know people who can sort you out and help you integrate again. Have you got a phone? I’ll give you my number.”

“I’m good,” he repeated. “Don’t wanna be found. They can find you through a cell phone.”

“Not a burner,” I corrected.

“They fry your brain,” Charlie mumbled.

I opened my mouth to argue but closed it again. I had to go and get Addie and face my old brother, who it seemed was determined to screw with me.

Charlie was a battle for another day.

“Let’s move,” I ordered, turning my attention to Trick. “We’ve got some Aces to play.

—————

We saw the Ford Explorer parked up before we even pulled into the clearing. Trick had followed the Potomac River north to Jones Point Lighthouse, where me and Ace used to fish and put the world to rights. It was where we always made plans for the club and discussed the future and what we wanted to achieve. It was also the place we bonded as brothers—or so I thought.

The fact that Ace hadn’t even tried to hide the vehicle told me a few things.

First, he didn’t give the first fuck about being found; in fact, he was banking on it. Second, the mind games had begun. After we parted ways, I thought that bullshit was over, but now it seemed I was wrong. Lastly, he was getting cocky, which would only contribute to his downfall. Being an overconfident prick meant you underestimated your enemy.

Trick parked the club’s GMC and turned to me in the passenger seat. “Sure you don’t need me?”

“Want you to stay here. If anything happens to us, I need you to find Addie and get her back to her dad.” My neck craned to study Diablo in the back seat. “It’s just you and me. You sure you’re okay with the plan?”

A wide grin stole across his face. “You know I love me some playtime. Today’s game’s called chop-a-cock. Wonder how many dicks I can go home with for one of my jars?”

I almost rolled my eyes at the crazy fucker. Diablo made his counterpart Atlas, who was SAA over in Wyoming, look sane. He wasn’t kidding about the jars. He collected the body parts of the men he bested, put them in a glass jar filled with embalming fluid, and stuck them on a shelf in his room at the hotel. His latest craze was to arrange different colored lights behind them for effect. Green fingers, blue toes, yellow tongues—so on and so forth.

He thought it was hilarious.

I shuddered at the thought of Anna seeing that shit. She’d freak the fuck out.

Crazy bastard.

Trick chuckled, glancing back at Diablo, and then his eyes flicked back to me. “Go kick some ass.”

I got out of the car, checked my weapon, and waited for Diablo to fall into step beside me. “Ready?” I asked him.

His mouth hitched, his eyes glazing over, and he jerked his head in the direction of the river. “Lead the way, boss—” He was cut off by the whistle of a bullet whizzing so close to my temple that my mouth filled with saliva.

“Hendriiiiix,” Ace’s voice called from the direction of the river. “I’m waiting on your ass.”

My jaw clenched.

“Fuck,” Diablo muttered from my side. “We’re sitting ducks.”

My fingers flexed with the urge to reach for my gun. “If he wanted to kill us, that bullet wouldn’t have missed. In fact, we wouldn’t even be here. Ace would’ve holed up near the hotel with a sniper rifle and waited it out. We’ll be good. Just stick to the plan and get Addie out of there, and then we’ll start shooting.”

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