“You’re cruel.” She giggles. “What about Token?”
“Hard Token. You ever use a hotel key card to get into your room?” When she nods, I continue, “That’s a hard token, a security device.”
“Tell me some more.”
I frown. “Well there’s Scribe. He’s always on about writing a book, but if he is, we’ve never seen it. Then there’s Kink—”
Mary shoots Alicia a that’s enough look and gets my attention by lifting her fingers. “All your businesses sound legit.”
I chuckle again. “They are, and I assure you, we’re not into money laundering. The cops and feds keep too close an eye on us for us to be doing something illegal.” The killing and burying bodies I think it’s best I keep to myself.
“Why have you got the reputation you have? I assumed you were involved with gun running or drugs?”
“Not saying we never were, but we got out of the drug trade when Drummer, he’s the prez of our mother chapter in Tucson, took the helm. Gun running too. There’s too much risk of a brother dying or ending up in jail with that sort of business. No one currently in the club wants to touch either of those.”
“Currently?”
“Yeah. We had a clean out a few years back. Nine men left the club because they wanted to take it in the wrong direction.” Two were dead at the hands of the mother chapter prez. One died during the mutiny and six sent out bad. One of those met his end fairly recently. How Shark died brought memories of Smoker’s death back into my mind. I’d forgotten his absence for a few hours. Now I realise how much I would have enjoyed talking to him about Mary and Alicia, and that there was no one else I’d trust enough to confide in.
Mary has noted my look of pain. “One of them you were close to?”
She thinks I’m sad about the men who’d betrayed the club which is far from the fucking truth. But, was I close to any of them? All of them, if she wants the truth. Until the plots were revealed, I’d have given my life for any of theirs. That’s why the betrayal had hit us so hard. “Nah, not them,” I correct. “I was just thinking of my friend who died a couple of months back. Cancer.” I don’t think she needs to know about the bullet which had advanced his natural death by a few months.
Alicia seems to have lost interest. “You don’t seem very exciting, not like Sons of Anarchy.”
“And when have you watched that?” Mary asks sharply.
“At Marisa’s. But only a couple of episodes, I got bored. It was all burning bodies alive and stuff.”
Mary’s already large eyes widen.
“You can’t believe the fictional stuff,” I tell her. “But MCs are about men who love riding bikes, and who want to live outside citizen laws. We share a bond together. Hurt one of us, and we all bleed.”
Mary gives me a look of understanding. Yeah, that’s why I know without asking, Dusty will jump at the chance to help out.
We finish eating. I help clear up, feeling like part of a family. When I leave, it’s with Alicia’s promise she’ll try and advance Dusty’s presumed desire for a modelling career the next time she speaks to Owen.
When Mary sees me out, she stands by the door before opening it. “It’s been interesting. I’ve enjoyed talking with you, Grumbler.”
I realise I’ve enjoyed myself as well.
“Offer still stands, doll. You need to vent about Alicia, feel free to call me.”
“She can be difficult.”
I laugh. “We were all young once. You might not believe this, but there was a time when I thought I knew it all.”
She shoots me a look that suggests I probably still do, and if she voiced that, then I wouldn’t be able to argue with her.
I glance toward my bike, then back at her. “Make sure she just contacts Owen by phone, okay? I’ve got bad feelings about the fucker. Maybe not justified, but my gut has been proved right more than once. I don’t…” I pause. I’m in no position to give her parenting advice. “I suggest she doesn’t spend time with him alone.”
Mary’s eyes harden. For a second, I fear I’ve overstepped the line, but I’m to be proven wrong.
“I couldn’t agree more, Grumbler. While between adults like us, a four-year difference is nothing at all, at her age, Owen’s got a wealth of experience she’s still got to learn. Now I’ve just got to explain that to her.”
I raise my chin, then at last, head to my bike. There’s a hell of a lot more than four years between us, doll. Try twenty or so. I’m old enough to be your father.
What’s odd, I ponder as I head for the club, is why I find that thought troublesome.
Chapter Fourteen
Grumbler
“Found something I don’t like, Grumbler.” Token’s mouth purses after he gives me those words.
It was he who called me into his office. Emitting a low growl, I prompt him, “Well don’t fuckin’ keep it to yourself, Brother.”
Token nods thoughtfully. “Let me give you some background first. I’ve been searching the web for books which uses one of Devon’s photos on the cover. He has a website, Starring Roles. He boasts he’s sold over six hundred photos.”
“Since when?” I might not be good at reading, but mental math is no problem for me. Even at three hundred dollars a time, Devon’s made himself a cool one hundred and eight thousand dollars.
“The website’s been running a couple of years.” Token seems to know where my mind is going. “That’s not all profit, remember, he’ll have to rent out studio space.”
“It’s not a bad return for taking some shots and putting them on his website.”
“There’ll be editing time, arranging models. For all the photo’s he’s shot, there will
