Page 29 of Claymore
“It’s been fun. See you guys later,” I said, patting Vegas in the back.
I savored the feeling of the cool air conditioning on my skin when I walked into Tank’s office. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t gotten sleep in days, and I was starting to think that was just what came with the territory of being president.
“You’re later than usual.”
“I know. I was up late last night dealing with a shipment, and when I finally crashed, I was out cold. How’s Ella?”
“Like you care. If you’re asking if I learned anything new, the answer would be yes.”
Tank’s ears perked up. He shut the ledger in front of him, leaning back in his chair, giving me his full attention.
“I’m listening.”
“Ray’s ex-girlfriend, the one we ran into before Arch came through with his rescue, she’s dead. Her body was tossed into a dumpster outside an old tattoo shop. Either Ray’s been getting his hands dirty, or someone’s cleaning shit up for him,” I said.
“She could’ve been the link. She could have led us to him, and now she’s dead. I’d say that’s Ray’s work.”
“There’s more.”
“We ran into this woman at the bar. Ella spotted the watch she was wearing. It belonged to Ray. She and her buddies were all sporting that damn lion. Name’s Fang. We need to look into this,” I said.
He nodded. “I’ll put the word out.”
“Thanks, Tank.”
He let out an exasperated sigh, almost forgetting the details of the drop I came here to do. He stopped himself, telling me everything I needed to know.
“Make it quick.”
“Yeah, you got it.”
The news rattled him. The last thing any of us needed was to deal with another fucking club, especially one that roped Ray in.I wish they would’ve just killed that fucker. Would’ve saved us a lot of trouble.
Ray wasn’t the kind of man to back down. He knew exactly when to retreat, hide, and plot. That’s what made up my mind that he had to be involved, that he wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere waiting to be found. He’s a calculated, wild motherfucker. If he was joining forces with someone like Fang, it’d be safe to say we were fucked if we didn’t do something.
I spotted Tank in the living room with everyone else huddled around him while he delivered the news. I waved them off, heading out to my bike, starting up the engine. I pulled out of the lot, barreling down the street, feeling the wind blustering against my skin. I passed busy street corners, vendors who were selling roses and ice cream sandwiches out of carts even though it looked like it’d rain soon.
The highways broke off into an exit that led directly into the heart of the city. Nestled somewhere between the few high-rise buildings and city square was a motel that definitely didn’t get much action. The sign was painted on, fading slowly to the point I could barely make out the words. The parking lot was chock full of old beer bottles, cigarette butts, and a lingering smell from the dumpster that looked like it had never been emptied.
I parked at the very back, away from the main crowd of people looking for a cheap room. By the time I made it to the open corridor, with its rusty railings, and mazelike map of rooms, the rain had finally started to fall. It was torrential, giving this place a much-needed bath. I listened to the pitter-patter of the water hitting the corridor floor above me, finding my way to Room 305.
The sound of my knock was nearly washed out by the storm, and so I banged on the door, eventually hearing it unlock from the other side. A bald man in a wife-beater popped his head out, raising his eyebrow at me.
“You’re late.”
“When am I ever early, Buddy? I’m here, aren’t I?”
Buddy reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol. The scent wafted through the small motel room that he’d practically turned into an armory. There were walls lined with guns, hanging off picks on black carbon fiber. Every time I rolled through here I was surprised he didn’t have to pack everything up and leave.Half of those lone bikers out there looking for weaponry have no idea the best of the best was right under their noses.
I picked up a pretty swanky pistol, feeling its weight in my hand while Buddy packed up the duffle for me.
“You ever accidentally set one of these things off and spook your neighbors?” I asked, pointing the barrel at the wall.
“No, but after the night the two of them had, I’d gladly shoot right through that fucking wall.”
“Interesting crowd out here, I guess.”
“Well, the best part is they usually never stay for long. That makes my stay real fucking extraordinary,” he said, shooting me that smile with a mouthful of gold teeth.
