“Do you know how the Courtesan is a safe zone?” Scar asked me, and my frown deepened.
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s mostly because of them. Powerful criminals, like Killough and Reyes, need places to stay safe, and the Society created locations across the states to make that happen. It keeps their men and women safe. They need to be out of harm’s way when they need a break, too,” Scar said, baring his teeth at Quain. “The Madam and Harlots enforce the safety there, but the Society’s just another force to scare lawbreakers into keeping to the rules.”
“So you’re fucking telling me there’s an organization for this, and you fucking knew about it?” I stood, but Scar grabbed my arm, shaking his head.
“No one in the Kings but the board members know. It’s for your protection, Barber,” King said, face softening. “The Society is vicious and the less of us that know about them, the better.”
“How did my father know about you then?” I hissed in Quain’s direction.
He stayed still, the only movement he made was to reach up and touch the ring on his chain, fiddling with it. “He didn’t know about the Society. One of his informants gave him a number to call for a contract killer. He thought someone who was used to murdering would be good at guessing what the cartel would do next. So he hired me. The informant was taken out for saying too much to the wrong person.”
“This is fucked.” I raised my hands, jerking my arm out of Scar’s hold, and took a step back. “Fucked.”
“I know,” Quain whispered, but I scowled at him.
“I’m going to get my family back, so you can stay out of my way.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” he said, making me freeze in surprise when he moved toward me. Scar was the one who got in his way this time, and I didn’t have to see Scar’s face to know they were having a stare-off. My brother was a big man, in height and mass, and he was about triple Quain’s size, but most assassins and hitmen weren’t big people. They needed to blend in.
“I think he’s done with you, rat.” Scar’s tone dropped until it was deeper than the pits of hell, warning laced in every dangerous word. “You heard King before. Leave or we’ll make you.”
“You need me.” Quain didn’t sound the least bit fazed by the monster of a man in front of him. “He said no other bikers. These men aren’t amateurs. They’ll hear you coming, and they’ll have scouts watching. It isn’t just a few guys for this kind of kidnapping.”
“Worked for the Reyes Cartel before, have you?” Undertaker asked from his seat. I noticed him out of the corner of my eye, his fingers dancing around the knife he always kept on his body. Scar might have size, but it was Undertaker who was truly the killer out of all of us. He was a psychopath who took pleasure in pain, both when he was killing a man and having sex.
Scar moved out of the way and I could finally see Quain again. His expression had softened to… almost respect, like he understood who Undertaker was and didn’t want to start anything with him.
“Yes, if you must know. I was contracted by Rafael Herrera Reyes, the cousin of the cartel boss, to take out a few people a couple of years ago. I know how they work.” He raised his chin and held out his palms. “I’m not here to hurt Barber. I want to protect him, and if that means going with him to get Errol and Sophie back, I will. But trust me, the club can’t ride in there behind him. They’ll kill them.”
“So how do you plan on getting through?” I snapped, squeezing my fingers around my Ruger. The rough texture of the handle sent a wave of comfort through me.
“Where do they want to meet you?”
“Out on Nixon Road. There’s an abandoned house that way. It’s near a train trestle—”
“I know where it is,” Quain said. He pursed his lips. “I used to play out there as a kid.”
Me too. I didn’t say it because this wasn’t a bonding experience. I wanted my family back, and this man had lied to me. If he’d been honest with me, I might have been able to keep Errol and Sophie safe. Now I needed his help when all I wanted to do was punch his pretty nose.
Quain stared at me like he knew what I was thinking, and his lips quirked to the side, looking almost apologetic. “There’s a bunch of trees behind the house that span out to the road behind it. The road goes nowhere except to a couple of homes dotted on some land, so not many people know about it. They’re out-of-towners, they certainly would have no idea about it. I could come in through the trees with my M24. Take a couple of them out.”
It was on my tongue to tell him to stick it up his ass, but he was right, as much as I hated to admit it. I was stuck with him until we got Errol and Sophie out of this mess. Right now an assassin came in handy, and by the sounds of it, this “Society” didn’t just take anyone. He had to have skills.
I shoved a finger in his direction. “Fine, but you better stay the fuck out of my way, am I clear?”
He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I need to go back to my house and get my M24. I’ll meet you just outside of the city, near Suzy’s, that hippie place—”
“I know what Suzy’s is,” I grumbled, turning my back on him. How did we go from fucking each other’s brains out tothis? I knew how—Dad. It was always that asshole’s fault. Even though I was on the other side of the country, he found ways to fuck with me. “Go.”
I glanced at him to see Quain eye each of my brothers carefully before he backed out of the meeting room slowly, gaze trained on us as though he expected someone to try and put a knife in his back. When he reached the door, he was out of there, giving me a chance to take a deep, shaky breath.
“I’m guessing you had no idea,” King said, laying a hand on my shoulder and squeezing.
“I should have listened to you, pres.” I shook my head.
“An ass like that can blind even the smartest man,” Scar grunted out. If Charley was here, I’d imagine he’d get a smack to the head for a comment like that, but it was true. Quain has a really nice ass.
