Page 46 of Property of Riptide
Although, I would love nothing more than to bring those corrupt politicians here and ask a myriad of questions and possibly add them to the list of those missing.
I won’t.
Even though I’d love to choke the life out of them.
I can’t.
Especially with Van’s boss’s wife coming into the picture and running an undercover operation. I plan on turning in some evidence to her—anonymously, of course, so that we don’t have to be called to court to testify if our information is what ultimately sends them to trial.
We don’t do shit like that. We aren’t the testifying kind of guys, but that doesn’t mean I mind giving them a little intel to kickstart things off with. Fuck knows we’ve gathered enough already that will have them doing time. I’d hoped that they’d see the incinerator, but now that they’ve gained the attention of the feds, that’s an impossible dream.
I get off my bike and head over to where Van parked so I can help her with little man. “This is where you live?” she asks, grabbing his diaper bag and the lunchbox cooler she keeps in her passenger seat when commuting.
“Nah, this is the clubhouse. I need to catch my men up to speed then I’ll take you two over to the house so you can start settling in,” I enlighten her. I place my fingers between my lips and whistle. “Slayer! Come here and meet my woman and our boy.”
Slayer laughs as he walks our way. “You work fast, Rip. I thought it took nine months to get yourself one of those,” he jokes, reaching out to little G who’s hanging onto me like a monkey and tickles him around his ribcage. “He looks nothing like you, lucky kid.”
“Fuck off, asshole,” I scoff before scowling at him. “I’m a good looking fucker or I wouldn’t have landed the hot chick.”
“Hi,” Van snorts, holding out her hand and shaking her head at me. “I suppose I’m the hot chick, otherwise known as Savannah. People call me Van for short.”
“You are,” I adamantly say.
Slayer outright laughs before introducing himself. “Van. Nice to meet you. How much did he pay you for the right to call himself your man? Ain’t no way in hell he could’ve gotten you with his charm. The asshole ain’t got none.” Slayer, my VP and one of my closest friends continues digging himself into a deeper hole each time he opens his mouth and spews out a load of crap.
Indiana passes us by with one arm slung over Zoey’s shoulder and the other one holding Elodie. “Now you know how I feel, Rip. Doesn’t feel good, does it? Maybe it’ll make you think twice before you tear me down.”
“Your ego is showing, Harrison,” Zoey scolds.
“Harrison? Who’s Harrison?” Van asks.
“Shit,” Zoey hisses. “I’m sorry, baby. I screwed up.”
“No you didn’t, baby girl. Van’s family, you can call me by my birth name in front of her anytime you want to,” Indiana excuses.
“Like Harrison Ford who played Indiana Jones?” Van giggles. “That’s appropriate.”
“When I first met him when we were teenagers, he wore that Fedora hat Indiana does in the movies. It’s why the guys dubbed him with that road name to begin with and it stuck,” Zoey explains to Van.
“It was my signature,” Indiana says with a cheesy smile on his face. “It got you talking to me, didn’t it?”
“No, that’s a lie. I talked to you because of those sparkling blue eyes of yours,” Zoey says, letting the cat out of the bag.
“All these years I thought it was the hat,” Indiana sighs. “I don’t know why you’re all bursting my bubble lately. I feel like my entire life has been a lie.”
“Boo hoo, you poor baby. I’m over you guys acting your shoe sizes, I’m ready to start dealing with adults,” I scorn.
Indiana looks dejected when he spits out, “Done, I’m over this. Let’s go home, Zo.”
“You can’t. We need to debrief the rest of our brothers on our trip home. Zoey, do you mind taking Van and little man into the common room and hanging out with her until we’re done?” I ask.
“You make me sound like a charity case,” Van exclaims, pinching the cheek of my ass.
“Never, Van. But we’ve got some club girls who act like bitches around here. They forget themselves sometimes and don’t always remember their place. At the bottom.”
“Literally,” Indiana laughs.
I give him a ‘shut your damn mouth’ stare before continuing from the point where I was interrupted. “You being with an established old lady will keep them off your back. They can be catty, baby, and I’d hate to have to toss them all out on their asses during my first hour back.”
