Page 28 of Claymore
She rolled her eyes at me, swirling the last bit of her drink in her glass before she downed it all.
I sauntered back over to Ella who’d been studying this woman from the second she laid eyes on her. She squinted like she was focusing on something specific and I tapped her lightly.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I can’t be sure. That watch looks a hell of a lot like a silver Vacheron Constantin.”
“It is, but why would that matter?”
“Did you get a good look at it?”
“Yeah, I practically snagged the thing from her. It’s a score, that’s for sure,” I teased.
“Is the dial slightly cracked on the left side?”
“Yeah, it is. I thought it was odd for a watch like that. She had to have hit it pretty damn hard.”
“She didn’t. Ray did. That’s his watch,” she whispered.
“Think it could’ve just been a ridiculously expensive gift?”
“No way. Ray never went anywhere without that thing. It was the first big score he ever took, the first item he’d ever stolen that was worth anything. He bragged about it for days. I got a good look at it the last time I saw him, but that feels like ages ago now.
I emptied the last drop of liquor from Ella’s glass into my mouth, studying that woman who drank alone, chatting with no one apart from the bartender. A few minutes later, the front door opened and in came two other bikers with jackets adorned with that lion sigil. I leaned forward, furrowing my brow, watching their every move.
“Fang!” one of them called out.
He rushed up to her, burying his head in her neck when they embraced. His burly body lifted her off the ground, and she giggled. I nudged Ella slightly and she turned to me.
“At least we’ve got ourselves a name.”
“I wonder what she had to do to get a name like that.”
“I guess we’re just gonna have to find out.”
***
The clubhouse was bustling with the sound of tools clanking, bike engines revving, and soft chatter at six o’clock in the morning. The garage was wide open and Wrench was going to town on a new piece of junk while Vegas hung around sipping on piping hot coffee and nibbling on a donut. I noticed how fresh and cool the air was. When I looked up, I saw the heavy, thick clouds getting ready for the impending downpour.
“You’re up early. Didn’t think you’d roll through here until at least midday,” said Vegas.
“Tank’s got me on a delivery. Should be quick enough to grab a bite to eat after, but for now, this will do.”
I snagged the half doughnut out of his hand, popping it into my mouth with a smirk.
“You really just gotta steal everyone’s goddamn food, huh?”
“I can steal your coffee too. Even things out,” I said.
Vegas held onto his cup so tightly he spilled a little on the ground. “Claymore. Don’t you have work to do?”
“I do, but as you can see, Tank isn’t here yet,” I said pointing to the empty spot where his bike was usually parked.
“Well since you’re free, grab the Allen, the chain brush, and some rags. Might as well help me fix this thing.”
I nodded, making my way over to the workbench to grab everything he needed. I got down on my knees, inspecting the hunk of metal he no doubt found on the side of the street. Wrench had a knack for turning trash into treasure, and we were all a bit jealous of how easy it was for him.
I followed Wrench’s lead, turning and tightening everything he asked until I felt the sweat start to trickle down my forehead. Halfway into the job, I heard the sound of a bike engine roaring through the air as Tank approached. He hopped off his bike, nodding for me to join him inside.
