I could ask him to keep it a secret, but once he knows what my vanity over my bike got me into, he’s not going to be able to keep that quiet. Nor that my baby is on the cover of a romance novel. Christ, why did I ever get involved with this?
Because I’m proud of my ride and wanted to show it off. Pride cometh before a fall and all that. Well, maybe I should have thought about that before setting myself up to be made a fool.
On the other hand, perhaps I don’t have to involve anyone else. I’ve got Owen’s number, I can just call him. He might have the information I want. I don’t need my brothers. I’m more than a match for this Devon fucker. As soon as I track him down, I’ll confront him, and if he doesn’t pass the dollars over, I’ll take payment in blood. His. Nah, I don’t need anyone’s help for that.
There’s no time like the present.
Pulling off the road, I park up and take my phone out of my cut. Perhaps if Owen can give me the fucker’s location, I can get this done and dusted before I go back to the club. I call up the text Alicia sent, and press on the highlighted number.
The phone rings, once, twice. By the fifth time, I’m about to give up, but then it’s answered.
“It’s Owen.”
“Hi Owen. It’s Grumbler. We met at a photo shoot a few weeks back. You posed with my motorcycle.”
“Ah… Grumbler.” His voice sounds flat.
“Yeah. One of the photos was used on a book cover. You know that?”
There’s silence, then, “Alicia just called me and told me that.”
They’re so fucking friendly he was the first she’d called? Well, I suppose that’s for her and her mom to sort out. I hadn’t taken to him that’s for certain.
Suddenly I wish I’d asked him to meet rather than rashly giving him a call. It’s hard to interpret anything when you can’t see a man’s face.
“Did you know before?”
“Er, no.”
Is that the truth? Or the answer he thinks he should give?
“Alicia told me that author was paying in instalments. She’ll get her money in good time, but it’s great news about the cover. Always good for models to get their names known. She and I might get more work from it.”
She’ll get her money in good time. Funny phrasing.
“Did you get paid, Owen?” I ask.
When he again replies ‘no’, there’s something in his tone that makes me wish more than ever we were doing this so I could look him in the eye, as the idea comes to me that Devon might have paid him, but not us. But on the phone, I can’t push it, else I risk him hanging up.
“You work with Devon Starr a lot?”
“Some, yeah. I model for him on occasion. He likes my face.”
I’d like to rearrange your fuckin’ face, you smarmy little bastard.
I hadn’t thought much of the egotistical dick the day of the photograph shoot, and it seems I haven’t changed my opinion.
“I’d like to see him, you got his address?”
“Why?”
Thinking fast, I reply, “I’d like to talk to him about perhaps using my bike again.” Over my dead body, I add in my head.
“Ah, well. I’ve got his number. You can give him a call to discuss that.”
He won’t be giving me the address even if he knows it unless I was right in his face and using my own brand of persuasion.
“You got another shoot arranged?” If he has, there’ll be an extra participant.
“No. Not that I know of.”
I take in a deep breath and try to keep my voice calm. “Would you do me a favour, Owen? If Devon contacts you, will you let me know when and where the shoot is?”
There’s a pause, then, “Sure. I can do that.”
But the undertone suggests that’s the last thing he’ll be doing. I end the call, more frustrated than when I started. Of course, I can’t prove anything, but I reckon Owen and Devon are cut from the same cloth. I start to wonder how many other models they’re scamming. If they cut me and Alicia out of it, more money for them both.
Damn. That was no help at all. Now I’ve got one other person to find and beat the truth out of. Starting my engine again, pulling away and kicking up through the gears, frustration goes through me. I’ve no option but to involve Token.
I park my bike in its space back at the clubhouse and walk inside.
“Uh-uh. What’s got your panties all twisted up?” Salem grins as I walk past.
“You okay, Brother?” Niran queries. “Want to talk?”
Salem gets my finger, Niran a raise of my chin and a dismissive shake of my head.
“Anyone seen fuckin’ Toke?” I call out grumpily to no one in particular.
“I’m here,” the man in question replies, his voice sounding oddly muffled, which is explained as he exits the kitchen holding a loaded biscuit, half of which appears to be in his mouth. “You find that bitch you were after?”
Pennywise’s jaw drops. “Grumbler’s got a woman?” He mimics fainting, clutching at the back of a chair to hold himself up. “Never thought I’d see the fuckin’ day.”
“Who is she?” Bones asks. “Some hottie?”
I’ve had enough of this. “Shut the fuck up!” They all get my sergeant-at-arms scowl. “I ain’t got a woman, okay? Never have. Never fuckin’ will.”
Token takes pity on me. “Come on, Brother. Let’s go sort out what you need.”
I stomp after the computer guru, angry with him for opening his mouth. Fuck, if they were like that about me finding one woman, what are they going to say when they know what I did with my bike?
Token steps into his office leaving the door open. I close it behind me as I enter, then stand with my back against it and my arms folded.
“This is between us,” I start. “No need
