Page 32 of Being Lost

Perhaps I misread what I thought was a look of distaste. “Doubt if you’ll find much difference inside. Our clubhouse runs much the same as the rest. There’s a bar, a pool table, offices, then the bedrooms are upstairs.”

“Will Dan and I have to share?”

My eyes glaze over for a moment. “No, we’ve lots of spare rooms nowadays.”

Luckily, she doesn’t press or ask why.

Dan’s hoisted his rucksack over one shoulder. I raise my chin and indicate with my head. They fall in behind me.

As I open the door, a blast of welcome cool air escapes. Ushering them inside, I close it behind me, immediately noticing the clubroom is empty except for the prospect behind the bar. I’d told everyone to be ready to have church as soon as I returned from collecting Patsy and Dan, but as I hadn’t arranged a specific time, that’s not the reason why no one’s around. It doesn’t, however, take a genius to work out why the place is deserted.

At the end of the room there’s a new addition that was installed three years back. A stripper pole, which is currently being used by a curvaceous but short black woman. On the ground she is beautiful, but there’s nothing to give away that she’s athletic. On the pole, she’s poetry in motion. So fluid, so lithe as one movement turns into the next.

“She’s incredible,” Patsy breathes, her eyes having locked on the Lycra-clad figure as soon as she entered.

“Wow.” Dan’s voice is full of admiration.

“Get your fuckin’ eyes off my wife,” Dart, having magically appeared, snarls. He waits until Dan’s looking somewhere else, then his face relaxes as he turns to me and explains, “Alex wanted to practice, so I’ve got all the fuckers in church.”

Alex, the VP’s wife, is an amazing pole dancer. She’d had to be to earn money when she’d been on the run from her ex. Her talent had been responsible for originally bringing them together. When Dart had moved from Tucson and accepted his position as VP, certain conditions were attached, one being that we agreed to install a pole for her to practice on. Dart tried to insist we partition off a discrete area in one of the hangars so she could dance without everyone leering at her, but Eva, Cindy, Tits and Pearl wanted to take lessons from her, and the men wanted to watch the sweet butts entertain them with their new skills. So the compromise to having it set up in the clubhouse was that when Alex was using it, every male made themselves scarce—except for the prospects. If they let their eyes stray or had thoughts they shouldn’t about the VP’s woman, well, they wouldn’t be getting their patch.

It wasn’t a hardship. Alex tended to use it during the daytime when normally the majority of members would be at work.

“She’s looking good,” I tell him, softly.

“Huh,” he comments, seeming not to expect a man my age to leer after his wife. “Alex thinks she’s carrying too much weight after the baby and is trying hard to get her figure back.” Dart nods back at Patsy and Dan who’s kept his back turned. “I’ll get her to look after our guests.”

Alex is moving to the music, completely oblivious she’s got company. I don’t want to bring her out of her zone. “No worries,” I tell him, then turn to the prospect behind the bar. “Wrangler. Take Patsy and Dan up to the rooms you got sorted for them.” Then I turn to the pair I just named. “The prospect will make sure you’ve got everything you need.”

Chapter Eleven

Lost

“Thank fuck you’re here,” Grumbler, well, grumbles. “The VP shooed us all out when Alex appeared. Had to leave my fuckin’ beer.”

Ignoring the sergeant-at-arms protest voiced as though it’s the end of the world, I spy an empty chair. “Where’s Blaze?” I ask no one in particular. I notice Token beckoning to Deuce to pass a phone back to him. I recognise it as Jim’s and realise he’s been passing it around.

Dart explains, “He’s doing a full back patch tattoo that he couldn’t walk out on.”

Deuce raises his hand. “I’ve got a delivery coming in. I’d like to get back to it as soon as I can.”

I take my seat. “Thanks for sparing the time today, but I wanted to bring you all up to speed without delay.” I know I sound less like an MC prez and more like a corporate CEO, but it’s not my way to berate people for simply existing.

While we all put the club first, part of that is the businesses we run to keep our stomachs fed, so brothers are right to feel annoyed if they’re called away from their jobs for no reason.

“Yesterday, Patsy Forster called me for help as someone was following her. Dart, Salem, Pennywise, Niran and I had a conversation with that someone,” I start to remind those who know, and tell some who for one reason or another, may not have picked up on what went down. “I heard enough to be concerned, so for their protection, I’ve brought Patsy and her son back to the compound.” I raise my hand to indicate I haven’t finished. “For now, it’s only temporary. How long they stay, or what they do next, will need a club decision. It’s obvious from the information we got out of the stalker we intercepted that they were in danger of being found if I hadn’t done something.” I raise my eyes and let my gaze travel around the table. “It seems likely, Alder’s net is closing in on Dan.”

There are murmurs and shakes of heads, then Token raises his hand. “Want me to give my update?” At my nod, he begins, “I’ve looked at the phone you took from Jimboy, the stalker, yesterday. I found that he’s a member of a WhatsApp group which has about seventy-odd members. It was created about three weeks ago, and its focus seems to be on locating Patsy.”

That timing fits with when she tried to call Beth. Alder must have acted fast and got his ducks in a row. There’s something about Token’s wording that sets off an alarm in my mind, but I can’t bring into focus exactly what or why.

Letting it drop for now, knowing my mind will keep working on the problem in the background, I state, “He’s got seventy people watching out for her?” It’s a lot. If they’re scattered all around San Diego, it was only a matter of time before he located her or Dan. Seventy people all anxious to earn a thousand dollars. “How could he get that organised? Have you found anything out about the group members?”

Token frowns. “Many of them use tag names which are unidentifiable, so I’ve hacked into their accounts. Couldn’t do all seventy in the time I had, but most that I looked into have something in common. They’re all users, or dealers.”

“It makes sense.” Dart raises his chin. “Alder runs drugs. We assumed he acted out of Colorado, but maybe he’s behind some of the drug trade in Southern California as well and tapped into a network he already had in place.”

“We are close to the border,” I agree. “Losing his cross-country routes may mean it’s less risk dropping them here than taking them across states.”

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