Page 7 of Bullseye
Crumpling and then smoothing the napkin, I fidget. “What?”
He nods to my hands. “Bullseye. I have known you since college. I know everything there is to know about you.”
I always wince internally when he says that, but I also know it’s for his own good. Harry “Bullet” Booth does not need to know that I was mixed up with the Bordono Crime Family that year he thinks I was MIA playing house with some girl, and he sure as hell doesn’t need to know I did time, was sprung early, and now, may very well have two thugs looking to kill me.
“You’re weird tonight.”
“Nah, I’ve just got to grab the monthlies for you. It’s on my mind.” I decide to change the subject. “Did you tell Nick about Clyde yet?”
Harry shakes his head and stands up straight. “Nah. And I’ve been with the man pretty much all damn day. And by all damn day, I mean since this morning. Not noon, the start of your day.”
My eyebrows knit together as I try to figure it out. “Something up with the books, Mr. Bookkeeper?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Ever since this kid Seth has come on as a kind of honorary bookkeeper, things are easier. Kid’s a whiz with numbers. Like, a real genius. He never went to college, but his mom was an accountant, and he’s self-taught. Nice kid, too. Tutored high school kids with math back home.”
“Impressive,” I say.
“Yeah…”
“What?” Peeling my napkin into shreds, I nod to Harry.
“He’s just…a bit of a wildcard. And I’m never sure when he’s going to blow, or what makes him blow.”
“Well, shit, man. They call him ‘Dynamite’ for a reason,” I point out.
“Yeah, I just don’t think I want to find out the reason.”
Chuckling, I look at the back room. “So, if Seth’s good and you’ve got backup, why’ve you been here all day? The books?”
Shrugging, Harry looks at the counter and back up to me. “Nick and I, we’ve been working through some business. Tess had this model for expansion, she had some good ideas. Talked about twice as many officers for the club, new revenue streams, even ways for marketing, and eventually, higher salaries.”
“Not bad for a woman, huh?” I tease.
Harry glares at me. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, we’ve got to get ready for tonight. Opening is soon. We’re going to be exposing ourselves quite a bit with this open call we’re hosting. Any one of those damned Dogs could infiltrate.”
“Even if they do, what will they find out?” I shrug. “We vet all the candidates. And with the exception of CJ, everyone is a prospect for a least a year before they become a member. And it takes even longer to become an officer.”
“Do me a favor.” Harry levels his eyes on me again. “Don’t mention CJ to Nick when we go talk to him about Clyde.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. I know the man still feels sick he trusted him like he did. And I’m not talking to Nick, you are.”
I grin, but Bullet doesn’t take the bait. He’s stoic.
“It’s interesting who Nick decides to trust and who he doesn’t.”
I know what he’s saying. Despite the fact that I’m an officer, Nick doesn’t seem to trust me all that much. But the truth is, he shouldn’t. Yes, I love the Knights and would kill for my brothers if I had to, but I’d really rather not. My killing days are behind me. And my plan is to never take another man’s life, ever again.
Aside from that, I lied my way into the Steel Knights. Thanks to my connections with Don Bordono, my criminal record was expunged after my early release, and I never told the Knights, or Harry, that I was on the inside. A record is no big deal for the Steel Knights. Seth has done time, but the fact that I was—and my father is—connected to the Bordonos is trouble.
Don Bordono moves product through a couple of the motorcycle clubs back in the Tristate area of New York, and their leader, an asshole named Ironclad, would make trouble if he knew I was with the Knights. Even though we’re two-thousand miles away.
Better just to stay clean. Especially now that Mikey and Tony are out and maybe looking for me.
“Bullet, you need to tell Nick about Clyde, while I go grab the monthlies.”
“Shit.” Bullet lifts his large frame up and begins ambling toward the back room. “I guess there’s no time like the present.”
“I know you hate social interaction,” I tease as he makes his way into the back room, “but try not to hang out in there all night!”
