Cash had to peel his gaze from the bikers to even understand how this new guy knew what they’d been discussing. The question must have appeared on his face.
The guy lifted the device as if it held the answers.
“Does that always happen?” he asked and hooked a thumb toward the bikers. After a quick glance as if the tire shop’s employee had no idea three ominous looking bikers had just rolled up and owned the space.
“More often lately. So the run-flat tires, I can have ’em here this afternoon but the mornin’ would be better.”
Cash split his attention, watching Keyes cross those brawny arms over his chest. He looked fierce as hell and made the other bikers look small by comparison. He better understood why Keyes might take the risk to date the assistant district attorney. The guy was formidable. Those three bikers didn’t stand a chance in a bare-knuckle brawl.
“I think I…” Cash had to look down at his loafers, and kicked at the rocks at his feet, to focus on the tires. “How long’s the quote good for?”
Keyes needed to be considered as a possible suspect in any crime being committed within the Disciples. The biker seemed culpable of something if fierceness or attitude spoke of criminality.
“You have twenty-four hours. What’s your name? I’ll hold the quote.”
“Cash Ryan,” he said. From his divided attention on the scene playing out in the parking lot, Keyes left the bikers standing there and took long, purposeful strides toward the side of the building. The loud rumble of Fox’s bike started, followed by the others. Then a competing sound came from the back of the building, shifting Cash’s attention in that direction. Keyes revved his engine, drowning everything else out as he drove from around the side of the building.
Fox and team waited at the entrance of the parking lot. They drove out in formation. Fox first, the new guy second, Mack third and Keyes in the last spot. In all the documentation he’d studied, they were described as a hoodlum gang. Local chaos was their deal. Cash’s gut swirled, telling him they were so much more. He nodded to the man in front of him who had already ended their communication, his full concentration on the phone as he started to walk away.
Cash dropped down in the car seat and had to restrain himself from following the four-pack of bikers. In this car, in these clothes, he’d be so out of place he’d be spotted. He narrowed his eyes as he pressed the engine button. He had to get on the inside of that club as soon as possible.
Chapter 11
The drag in Dev’s steps made climbing the stairs to his apartment harder than he ever remembered before. The weight of the shit show of his day rested heavily on his shoulders.
He winced remembering the words he’d chosen during his fight with his father. The pain in his mother’s voice would leave a lasting mark over his heart.
The rest of the entire afternoon became layering intervals of screaming, watching his mom cry, and a bike shop and service area torn apart. When he left after his last client, he noticed a couple of new Harleys tipped over in the small showroom.
Dev tried to cocoon himself in the solitude of his workspace. He’d kept the music cranked up to drown out the ruckus outside his door. But dampening that noise did little to help the obsession his father had sown with his hurtful words. The idea of Diesel as his old man’s second wouldn’t leave his thoughts.
That one blow alone had crushed his heart. For a while now, he recognized that his temperament wasn’t right for the lead job. He’d worked hard on himself. Tried to be a better man, more responsible and worthy of something good from the world.
He’d carried his load by himself for years now. Tried to care for the family he’d created. He even took care of Tena, and she was a bitch all of the time.
Yet the second spot was going to Diesel.
No club vote. Just a dictator speaking his decision.
Regardless of what anyone might say, Dev’s heart knew he’d never been his old man’s first choice. The club charter required Dev be the one to follow in his father’s footsteps. The lead position dangled over and taunted him his whole damned life. If he worked hard enough, put the hours in, always put his brothers first, someday he’d be given his rightful place at the top.
Instead, his old man claimed he was an embarrassment.
How had it taken Dev so long to see the truth?
Diesel, Daphne’s new guy, was moving up the ranks faster than anyone ever had.
His dad’s trashy side piece, Dixie, had to be the catalyst behind Diesel’s rise. A strategic maneuver to help keep her and her daughter in a power position within the club once his old man retired.
How long had his mother known about all the other women?
Dev had worn blinders for most of his younger life due to the devotion he had once held for his father. Dev stood up for every bullied person he’d ever known. He’d done it all to prove to his old man that he got it. Authority sucked, only there for the protection of the wealthy. It was up to them to help the mistreated in their community. He understood what standing up for people looked like.
Clearly, his old man mistook Dev’s efforts for weakness or rebellion.
He was so fucking tired of fighting everyone…
The apartment door across the landing from Dev’s opened. His back stiffened, preparing for an attack against a would-be intruder as he shot a stare that way.
