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Bane, Archer, and Fossil went to their rooms soon after and I had a lot of trouble keeping awake in the dark parking lot where I camped out to make sure they didn’t leave by some back way and go do something nefarious.
They might have. Because the rising sun just woke me from deep sleep, and I’m afraid to open my eyes because I’m sure the bright light will give me the kind of headache I won’t get rid of for the rest of the day.
“What happened to you?” Karma asks. She’s standing in a way that blocks the sun so I dare open my eyes. “Did you forget which room is yours?”
The parking lot behind her is deserted and now that I’m more awake I can hear the symphony of snores rising through the open windows of the building behind me.
I rise, but make the mistake of bracing against the ground to do so. My hands come away all sticky and covered in dirt and debris I’d rather not even try to name.
“Even sleeping on concrete beats my room in there,” I say. It’s only partially true. Every bone and every muscle in my body seems to ache.
“Don’t worry, none of your charges left while you were sleeping,” she says, her voice pitched low.
“What are you talking about?”
“Those three brothers or yours that you or your friend are always shadowing,” she says. “Joker didn’t go anywhere either. They’re all sleeping inside.”
“Seems like you’re the one keeping tabs on them.” That sounded so stupid I barely managed not to cringe.
She throws her head back and laughs. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
The question is, will she? I still haven’t heard back from Hawk about what the deal with these Forsaken Outlaws is.
I never function great in the early morning and today is no exception, but I better wake up fast before I say something stupid.
“You wanna see about finding a cup of coffee?” I ask and head for the bar, which for once is blissfully quiet. I hope that means it’s also empty.
“All they got is instant and there’s no working kettle anywhere,” she says. “Come, I’ll show you.”
She overtakes me, taking long steps with her long legs. She’s built like a dancer, but moves like a guy who’s been in one fight too many. Not what she seems, in other words. I wonder how deep that rabbit hole goes.
I don’t say anything while she leads the way into the dim bar and to the back room, where she proceeds to mix us up some instant coffee using water from the tap. I drink about half in one long gulp. It’s lukewarm and too bitter, but it does its job and clears some of the cobwebs from my head.
The bar isn’t empty, but all the guys and gals in there seem down for the count. She makes no move to leave the back room though, so I don’t either. I also won’t be the first to resume the conversation.
“I’m looking for a little tit for tat,” she finally says.
“On what?”
“I watched those guys for you all night,” she says. “And now I want some info from you.”
There’s a lot wrong with what she just said, but I don’t have the mental faculty to unravel right now, so I might as well play along.
“Info on what?”
“Zane.”
“Zane who?” I don’t even have to fake surprise on this one. I have no idea who she’s talking about.
“He also goes by the name Unholy,” she says. “He used to ride with your MC a while back.”
I take another gulp of my coffee, hoping it’ll help clear my head some more. I need to tread carefully here. We don’t give out information on our members, past, present or future. But I think I have some leeway on this one.
“You mean the priest killer?”
She nods. “That’s the one.”
“He was never a Devil’s Nightmare MC member,” I say. “And I barely remember him. Why do you need him?”
