Page 35 of Devil's Marker

He laughed, “Why do I get the feelin’ that was hard for you to say?”

She responded with a smile that was almost shy, the very opposite of the façade she liked to wear.

R.C. was only gone ten minutes. She left Win in the underground parking at her building.

As they drove back to the clubhouse, he said, “Your pop said you’re the brain behind the design. It’s really something. Special. No question you’re talented.”

She didn’t respond right away. “You’re not like the others, are you?”

“Hope not. Can’t think of much worse than bein’ like everybody else.”

“I mean the others, I don’t think they really care what the club looks like. Or whether or not the dedicated spaces are designed with purpose in mind.”

“Don’t know about the others. But I can tell you that when I walked in… Christ. Was that just yesterday? I was amazed.”

“Well, thank you, Garrett. That’s nice of you to say.”

“Win.”

“What?”

“My name’s Win.”

“Oh, right. Win. Great road name.”

The gate opened when she pulled up to the truck yard and she drove in. She parked by the steps that led up to the dock and got out to open the trunk.

When Win collected his bags, he said, “You aren’t comin’ in?”

“One brouhaha per day with Pop is enough for my cardio.”

Win laughed. “Okay then. Next time we’ll take my bike.”

“First, there’s not goin’ to be a next time. I’m headed back to Austin in a couple of hours. Second, I don’t get on bikes. Third, how many times have I told you I’m not interested?” He shrugged. She got in the car and backed up, but rolled down the window before she drove away and said, “Plus. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Aw. That’s just not right,” he shouted.

She was laughing as she drove away.

So far as Win was concerned it had been a good day. It had started with a fair to middlin’ BLT. He’d been patched into Marauders, which nobody had been expecting when he’d set out for Waco. He’d gotten clothes that felt good enough to sleep in. And he’d learned everything he needed to know about R.C. Greer. At least for the time being.

He knew where she lived when she was in Waco. He knew that what she wanted out of life was safety and security, no doubt brought on by the anxiety and tenuousness of outlaw biker life. And to her, money represented safety and security.

There was no reason, so far as he could tell, for him to be interested in those things. He knew he was there to do a job for his new club. Not chase tail. And normally he excelled at maintaining concentrated focus. He told himself it was probably a good thing that she was headed back to Austin.

Maybe, when his month was over and he was back, he’d look her up. Go on a real date.

CHAPTER Seven

“The Stars & Bars are a bunch of inbred corn-fed dumb fucking hillbillies. That's my personal fucking opinion on those stupid asses.”

— anonymous Marauder, Hill County Chapter

Wednesday night Win was doing circuit training in the club gym when Cue jogged up to the door.

“There you are,” he said. “Need you to hold down the fort with the prospects. Hops is in the hospital so we’re headed over there.”

Win sat up. “What’s up?”

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