Page 38 of The Biker and the Loner
Hell. This is news. "But you know where he is, right?"
He leans back in his chair and laces his fingers behind his head. "Cookie probably does. But she ain’t gon’ tell me if I ask her."
"Ah, you voted against him, too…"
"And I’ve regretted it every day since. Should've listened to him. ‘Cause now the club's tied up in so much shit we'll never get out of it." With a heavy sigh, he leans forward and drops his forearms on the desk. "I see in you the man I should've been. The way you looked after Grunt and Kenny, that’s the reason I took you on. I should've been that for Roller and Cookie. But I was too caught up in greed and violence. I try to make it up to Cookie every day, but Roller's my biggest failure. I've got a chance to make it right throughyou,and I will. You know too much, seen too much, so the club won’t trust you wanting out. ButOnyx and I'll support you. Prepare for a nasty fight, but I'll make sure it happens."
Dumbfounded, I sit back. I'd been putting off this meeting for as long as possible because I’d known it wouldn’t be easy telling him I wanted out. I'd anticipated insults, threats, and even a fistfight. But not this. Never this. "Wow. I don't...I don't know what to say."
“But you gotta start coming ‘round more, man,” he says. “Show up when needed. Do a few drops. Fondle some Club Cats. Get back in before we can get you out. You know how it works.”
I rub my jaw with the heel of my palm. “Yeah, I know.”
"I'm an old man now," he tells me. "I don't get a second chance. Someone's gonna put a bullet through my brain soon. Wouldn't be surprised if one of our brothers double-cross me and set up my murder. With this life, it's what I expect."
"With all due respect, I think my second chance was cheating death multiple times in war and making it home alive."
He chuckles hoarsely. "Well, consider this your third. If the Big Man, whoever he is, spared your ass, it's for a reason, and I ain't gon’ be the one to stand in the way of that."
~
I notice the tinted black Escalade as I’m riding out of The Metal House. The same black Escalade that's been tailing me for the past four days, while I've pretended to be none the wiser.
Don't know who it is or what they want, but I've given them enough time to make their approach or shoot to kill, whatever their intention is.
Merging into traffic, I let them tail me. Most people would lead their tail to isolation, but I’m as crazy as they come. If they want to kill me, they'll have to do it in broad daylight in front of hundreds of witnesses.
I lead them on for around eleven minutes, and when I see a red light coming up ahead, I decelerate and shift lanes, giving them no choice but to drive ahead of me. Once the light hits red and all the cars are at a halt, I pivot into their lane and swing my motorcycle to park directly in front of the Escalade.
As I climb off, I unholster my Glock. Taking swift steps to the driver's side, I tap the mouth of the Glock against the window. "Open up!"
The window slowly powers down, revealing Truman, a cocksure smirk on his face, completely unphased by my gun trained at his head. In the passenger seat is Tripp, his smirk as smug as his brother’s.
“The fuck’s your deal?” I growl at them.
Truman and Tripp Garza are two of the four half-black, half-Italian brothers who run and own the best investigative operation in Denver—Red Cage Investigations. They're revered, protected, fearless, and, in their minds, untouchable. Why they’d be tailing me's a mystery.
They aren't investigating me, that's for sure. If they were, I wouldn't have noticed they're tail. They aren't as prestigious as they are by being sloppy idiots. Theywantedme to know they were tailing me.
"Finally," Truman says. "We were starting to wonder if we've overestimated you, Landon Michaelson. I don't think we could've gotten any more obvious with this tail."
Of course, these assholes knew my real name. I lower my weapon. "Clocked you since you started four days ago."
Both brothers exchange a look, then Tripp nods. "Yeah, you're gonna need some training. We've been on you for over a week now. We changed over to this vehicle because it's more conspicuous."
Confused, I frown. "Training for what?"
Truman fetches something from out of the glove compartment and hands it to me. "We've got a proposal for you. Monday. Two o'clock. Red Cage headquarters. Don't be late." He nods to the scatter of people that's slowly gathering, shocked faces poking out of car windows, traffic halted. "You’re causing a scene with that thing. Holster it and go get your bike out of the way before the cops get here."
They didn’t wait for me to move it, though, because once they started to steer out of the lane, people hurriedly pulled out of the way for them. Before I could even get my engine running, they were off.
Red Cage Investigations had a proposal forme?
Well, shit.
Chapter 9
Ley
