Page 5 of Deadly Aloha
I shared a look with my ex-brother-in-law. “They’re called ‘slippahs’ or ‘slippers’, and if you try to call them ‘thongs’, Iwillmake you wear them like underwear.”
Aftermath was taken aback at the hostility in my voice, but he had no idea how fucking annoying it was to hear the term ‘flip-flop’ day in and day out from tourists. “Fair enough. It was just a question.”
“And contrary to popular belief, there is such a thing as a stupid one,” I informed him. “If you’re not riding bitch, then get your fucking car and you better fucking keep up.”
“Cage,” Red shot back at me.
“What?”
“If you’re going to be picky about ‘flip-flops’ then I get to be picky about the word ‘car’. We’re bikers. They’re called ‘cages’.”
I had to somewhat admit that he had a fair point, but I was not about to tell him that. “My island, my rules,” I reminded him. “Besides, I might ride a motorcycle, but I’m not a biker.”
“Jameson’s got his hooks in you,” Aftermath told me as he headed towards the parking deck. “He’ll make a biker of you yet. I’ll bring the cage around,” he offhandedly told Red.
“He tried five years ago,” I called after him. “He failed then and he’ll fail now.”
“That’s the thing about Jameson,” Red said with a shrug. “He never fails. He waits, he strategizes, and then he strikes. If he wants you to join the Royal Bastards, you will.”
I ground my teeth together in frustration. I’d worked hard for an untold number of years to keephaoleinfluence off my island. I was not about to join Jameson and his merry band of bikers. I would keep my island safemyway, even if it meant once again returning to a life I’d sworn I’d left for good.
“Question,” Red said easily, as if he hadn’t just made a prediction about my entire way of living. “Do either of you ever wear a shirt?”
Chapter Two
We rolled up on the trucking company. Tangaloa and I were dismounting from our bikes as Red and Aftermath pulled into the lot behind us in their rented SUV. I hadn’t had a good look at it before we’d left the hotel, but this close, I realized that it was discreetly armored. Was that because they were hunting Bloody Scorpions or because they were driving around with their women most days? It seemed extreme. Then again, with the shit they’ve most likely seen riding with the Royal Bastards, was any measure too extreme to protect the woman you love?
I would have. If she was still here.
The brothers got out. At least, Red had left the damn hat behind. We weren’t going to get anywhere near the front door with him wearing that. Yooko would already be laughing his ass off when he saw how much sunscreen Red was wearing. Wasn’t he from Los Angeles? Didn’t they get sun there too? But Red was probably locked away in front of his computers most days.
The lot we were standing in had a single story building with a mostly glass wall in the front. The roof and other exterior walls were white. Under us was a sandstone parking lot, which was why we had to park our bikes on the sidewalk outside thestorefront. To the right of the building was a line of available rentals, from box trucks to pickup trucks.
“The trucking agreement is legit,” Red repeated. “So what we need to figure out is if there are any trackers on the trucks. If you guys are able to distract the receptionist, I can get behind the counter and plant this,” he held up a thumb drive, “into their system. Once it’s in, I’ll be able to take remote control of their systems and turn on any trackers.”
Tangaloa laughed as I snorted.
Red’s cheeks flamed. “What? It’s a solid plan—except the two of you have to be the ones to do the distracting. This one,” he threw a thumb at Aftermath, “is incapable of flirting with anyone but his wife.”
I glanced at Aftermath, who seemed proud, not ashamed, of that fact. Well, good on him, I guess. Loyalty was a trait I greatly admired in people. I was loyal to my sister, because she was blood, but her actions betrayed more than her vows to Tangaloa. I had a hard time trusting her now too.
Flirting with another woman should be harmless. I didn’t know from Red’s statement if Aftermath was bad at flirting in generalexceptwith Kensi or if his principles didn’t allow him to flirt outside of his marriage. Either way, my respect for the mountain of a man grew.
I looked back to Red. “It might be a solid plan, but you are missing one minute,” I held my hand up with barely a space between my thumb and forefinger, “detail.”
“What’s that?” he asked, looking between me and the building behind us.
“Yooko doesn’t believe in computers.” Tangaloa pulled out the rental slip from his back pocket. Neither had bothered asking for it back before, so he’d pocketed it. “It’s why it’s a carbon copy and not a printed form. He doesn’t haveanythingyou could plug that into, nor would he have trackers on his trucks.”
Red’s cheeks turned so bright that it was a wonder his sunscreen didn’t melt off of his face. “Then how are we supposed to find the trucks? We only know the general direction they were going in.”
“That’s the beauty of living on an island,” I informed him, turning to open the front glass door. “Locals talk—and wehateoutsiders who threaten our way of life.”
The interior of the building wasn’t much nicer than the outside. It was an old building that had weathered hurricanes, tsunamis, big storms, and a lot of years in the blazing sun. The ceiling tiles were cracked, the linoleum was stained, and the reception counter was held together by duct tape.
A hefty man in his mid-fifties came out from the backroom. His shoulders were so wide that he had to twist to make it through the smaller than standard frame. He had long black hair down to his shoulders, a bushy mustache, and a double chin.
“Aloiki,howzit!” He held up his massive arms in greeting. “Tangaloa,hermano!” He offered both of us a large hug, slapping me so hard on the back that my spine cracked.
