Page 53 of Devils Cut

The dirt road stretched ahead of me, kicking up dust like a cloud behind me as I road towards the old abandoned warehouse. The sun beat down on my back, sweat dripping from under my helmet.

I pulled up to the warehouse, the sound of my engine echoing through the emptiness. Trey and Hammer were already there, leaning against their bikes as they waited for me. I killed the engine and swung my leg over, pulling off my helmet.

"Where's Nate?" I asked, scanning the area for any sign of him.

"Trouble at home," Trey replied, his face tightening into a grimace. "His sister's pregnant."

"Get fucked," I muttered, disbelief etched in my voice. "She’s what, 14?"

"Nope, 16," Hammer corrected. "Nate wants to know who the dad is so he can go slice his dick off."

A laugh escaped me, despite the gravity of the situation. "Keep me informed."

As we talked, a black car started its way down the dirt road, kicking up dust of its own. Our focus shifted, tension prickling at the back of my neck.

The black car rolled to a stop, dust settling around it like a shroud. I narrowed my eyes, taking in the vehicle and its occupants. Mr. Pavlov stepped out, his polished shoes sinking into the dirt as he approached me. A dangerous man, but an ally for now.

"Corvus," he greeted, extending a hand which I took firmly. "I have some good news. That shipment we followed has disappeared, and we have an idea who's behind it. But I'll release all the information when I'm 100% sure."

"Good shit," I replied, nodding. My thoughts raced with possibilities, but I held back any questions. Trusting Pavlov was a necessity, but only to an extent.

"What do you need from us?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

Pavlov glanced around briefly before meeting my eyes again. "I need to shadow one more shipment. Can you put fake stuff in it? We'll pick up the real guns before. I want to put some of my men in the containers."

My mind churned, weighing the risks and rewards. It was a bold move, but if it led us to the culprit, it could be worth it. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to have more leverage on Pavlov.

"Alright," I agreed. "We'll do it."

"Excellent," Pavlov said, his expression unreadable.

“One hour good?” I asked, shaking Pavlov's hand.

"Da, I’ll be back in an hour." With that, Mr. Pavlov got back into his car and drove off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

"Right, that's dealt with," I said, turning to Hammer and Trey. "I wanna go to the bar and listen to my old lady sing."

Their smiles were almost teasing. "Never thought I'd see the day you wifed up," Trey remarked, amusement clear in his voice.

"Neither did I," I admitted, chuckling. "But now that I have, I'm hooked. You should consider it too," I suggested, half-serious as I looked at Hammer.

He just laughed, shaking his head. "Not for me, man. Not yet, anyway."

"Suit yourself," I replied, knowing damn well how much Tempest had changed my life.

"Get everything ready for the shipment, call Ben, Nate and Billy for the job” I instructed, my tone hardening. "And make sure you keep an eye on Pavlov's men. Don't let them out of your sight."

"Understood, Corvus," Hammer said, nodding firmly. Trey gave a quick salute before they both went off to handle their respective tasks.

I swung my leg over the bike, feeling the familiar hum beneath me as I revved the engine. The wind was calling, and so was Tempest's voice. With a quick nod to Hammer and Trey, I hit the throttle and tore off down the road.

The bar loomed in the distance like a sanctuary, its neon signs casting an eerie glow on the gravel lot. I pulled into my designated spot, killing the engine with a final roar. As I dismounted and removed my helmet, Killer stepped forward, holding the door open for me.

"Anything exciting?" I asked him, my eyes scanning the dimly lit interior.

"Nope," Killer replied, his deep voice betraying a hint of amusement. "Been nice and quiet."

“Good," I grunted, stepping inside. But silence never lasted long around here. It was only a matter of time before some shit went down.

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