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Griz searched through their pockets, looking for anything that might yield a clue. Their wallets had nothing special to tell him, just names and addresses from their driver’s licenses. One had a half empty pack of cigarettes and a disposable lighter.
But there was nothing else, nothing that might tell Griz who or what had clued these two men as to where he and Becca were today. He did find their two cell phones, but they were both locked by PIN, so he couldn’t try to use the dead men’s faces and facial recognition to unlock them.
Maybe he was being paranoid. But something didn’t feel right, so he pocketed both phones before climbing back out of the hole.
He’d come out here to the cabin to get away from all the madness, to try to find a quiet space so that he could sort his thoughts out and figure out what to do next, but the opposite had happened. The war had come to find him and now he had more questions than ever.
Ripper wanted to open up a dialogue with the cartel so that they could get more powerful weapons. It was a potential minefield that could complicate an already complicated situation. But it could also turn the tide in their favor.
Plus, Ripper was willing to let Griz take over on the deal itself, to show that he wasn’t trying to set his own thing up on the side that the club wouldn’t know about. Which suggested that Ripper was being genuine.
Not to mention that Ripper had just saved his ass. And Becca’s, too.
But he couldn’t shake the itchy feeling at the back of his skull, that something was very wrong. He kept running around and around with it in his head as he dumped dirt back into the grave, covering up the two bodies.
Eventually, he ran out of dirt and still hadn’t come up with any answers, so he put both shovels back into the wheelbarrow and headed back to the cabin.
25
Becca’s heart rate had barely recovered back to normal when Kate and Wyatt showed up at the cabin, courtesy of her phone call. As Kate’s car pulled up, Griz emerged out of the woods, covered in dirt and pushing a wheelbarrow with two shovels in it.
“Where’s Ripper?” Becca asked.
“He took off,” Griz said, as Kate and Wyatt exited the car. “Hey, Wyatt. Kate.”
“Everything okay out here?” Wyatt asked.
Becca found it a little strange that Wyatt didn’t seem too put off about the wheelbarrow and the shovels, or the dirt all over Griz, or about the bullet holes that were chewed into the front of the cabin. Apparently this was just another day in the MC life for him and Griz.
Kate, on the other hand, rushed immediately to Becca, grabbing her in an embrace. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Becca said. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
Becca nodded. “I’m getting weirdly inoculated to gunfire happening around me. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“God, you must’ve been terrified.”
“Well,” Becca said. “At least I don’t have to do any more fishing today.”
Kate raised her eyebrows. “You were fishing?”
“Worms and everything,” Becca said. “I’m almost glad the Skull Faces showed up when they did.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kate said, eyeing her carefully. “You’re walking a little funny.”
“What?” Becca said quickly. “No, I… maybe a little sprain, but nothing, it’s nothing.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell her sister that her gait was a little altered not as a consequence of the attack, but as a consequence of taking on a hard twelve inch cock until she nearly passed out from ecstasy the night before. It didn’t seem appropriate to bring up.
“What the hell happened here, anyway?” Wyatt asked.
“Death’s Head,” Griz said. “Two of them shot up the cabin with AKs.”
“You got them?”
“Ripper did. He was out here for a bit, and was still nearby when Death’s Head attacked. He heard the shots and came back.”
