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I shook my head. “I don’t know, but they sent enough snakes to make me think she’s important.”
“I’d ask Minnie if any of her girls have been acting weird or off in any way.” I could tell that comment hit too close for Brick’s liking. He’d hate anyone to mess with his girl. He and Minnie were joined at the hip.
“Didn’t give up anythin’ else?” Trigger chin pointed at the guy on the ground.
“Nah, the ants got enthusiastic at that point.” I sucked back the last of the joint and dropped it on the fucker’s face then used my boot to snuff it out. Then I checked my watch and noted the time.
“Cooper’s scraping up what’s left of the shit on the road. He’s covered in coke.” Brick spat. “We’ll dump him at the Stripe Backs’ club, so they know we got ’em.”
“Good.” I nodded and wished I had a little longer with my guy.
“We got one left,” Trigger huffed and pointed over his shoulder, “strapped to my bike. Got time for one more?”
I smirked and sent a text to my driver.
Grim: Hold plane. I’ll be late.
* * *
A couple hours later, I turned off my bike and removed my helmet. I swung my leg over the saddle and stretched my back as Louis took the helmet from my outstretched hand. He handed me a wet wipe, and I mopped my face. The driver stood next to the car, patiently waiting. Trigger pulled in next to me and turned off his engine. He stayed seated.
“Louis.” Trigger nodded as a greeting, and Louis quietly greeted Trigger in return. He knew better than to offer his hand. Trigger was the President of the Devil’s Reach MC in Santa Monica, California. He had one hell of a dark past, and at one time it had clashed with mine. Things worked out, and we’ve been friends ever since. We shared a healthy respect for and rather enjoyed the darker side of life.
“See you back at the hotel?” Louis turned to me. I nodded. He was to ride my bike back to Vegas. He pulled on the helmet, climbed on my bike, and carefully started the engine. He knew if anything happened to her, he shouldn’t return home.
“That’s just what I needed.” I grinned at Trigger as Louis drove off. The amped up feeling I couldn’t seem to shake had fizzled away.
“By the way, just a warnin’.” Trigger gave a come close nod and lowered his voice. “After the takedown in Mexico, we went back in after Blackstone left.” He spat and looked at me, his eyes in slits. “We had a bit of fun then burned the fuckin’ place to the ground. Charred the lot of ’em.”
He referred to a few weeks before when a US military team we had connections with had been given the green light to take down a tier one Mexican Cartel. The Team had pulled in some favors, and the Devil’s Reach Club and the head of the Italian Mafia had stepped up. They all had their own reasons for wanting in on that action. I had the pleasure of killing the Cartel kingpin himself, Martin Castillo, but for very different reasons that I held close to my chest. Only a few knew the truth, and I intended to keep it that way.
“Guess I missed a good light show, then.” I grinned at him. “We probably made history on that one.” I was sure it was one of the most successful takedowns in Mexican history.
“Indeed,” he growled then leaned back on his bike. I could tell there was more. He spat then looked at me. “The fire held things up a bit, but we got word they identified Castillo’s body. The shit will soon hit the news.”
That should be interesting. “I appreciate the heads up.”
“You should have let me kill him.”
“Nah, it needed to be me.”
“Mm.” He rolled his neck and shrugged. “We had history. It would’ve felt good to slice his fuckin’ throat.” But I could see he’d already accepted that I’d taken his kill and he’d let it go.
“I owe you one.” I pulled out my phone, and Trigger chuckled in agreement.
“Now you’re back, you should join us more often.” Trig flipped his Zippo lighter open and closed. “Keep things normal.” His voice remained low so the others couldn’t hear. Trigger was a private man and rarely let anyone into his world. My mind swung to his wife, Tess, and I almost laughed. She was a rare one for sure.
“Yeah, I might just take you up on that. I’m here now, permanently. It’s been too long since we’ve had a good ride.”
“Agreed.” He started up his bike and left a trail of dust as he sped away to rendezvous with his men.
I headed toward my driver, who opened the door for me.
“Good evening, sir.” Cartwright held up a garment bag. “Shall I take your cut?”
“Yes, thank you.” I slid the MC leather cut off my back. He nodded at my bloody hands and handed me another wet wipe.
“Was your evening eventful?”
