Page 60 of Penn

“We know it was a hit, but we don’t know it was a hit. That’s the problem,” I remind him.

“Their prospects have been running at the mouth about how they took out our president. Ran him over with a black Ford Explorer like it’s some kind of joke.”

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “You really think a prospect could take out Johnny? There’s no fucking way. And if they did, he’d be patched in the next day.”

“What if they did? You only gotta get lucky once.”

“Then why not say anything until now? We know Butch has cops in his pocket, so it’s not like they have to worry about that. And there’s no proof, which they know we won’t make a move without.”

“Maybe they just felt like it was safe. Like we’d been complacent long enough that we wouldn’t get revenge.”

I laugh. “No one thinks we wouldn’t take our shot if we got word that they ran down our fucking president. They’re just running their mouth trying to get pussy their president hasn’t already had.”

“How can you be so fucking sure about that?”

“Because they’re not trying to hide it. The person who did this is keeping their mouth shut because they know they’re fucking dead if they get caught. And those prospects don’t know shit. Not even Butch is dumb enough to let non-patched members in on club secrets.”

This stops him, and he nods at me. “That’s true. Butch is a lot of things, but dumb isn’t one of them. Unfortunately.”

“We’ll get the guy who did it when we get the evidence needed. Like you said, we just need to get lucky once. Someone’s going to slip up, and when they do, we’ll get our revenge.”

“Penn!” Pacino shouts. “Come help.”

I jog over and look at the truck jerry-rigged up with the shot tire sitting beside it. “What’s up?”

“Help me lift the new tire. We can’t jostle the truck too much, or it might fall off the jack.”

No pressure.

I grab one side of the massive tire, my triceps straining as Pacino and I lift the heavy rubber and set it into place as gently as possible. The driver makes quick work of putting the lug nuts on, and the jack sinks into the sand just as he finishes the last one.

“Well, that was perfect timing,” Jethro says. “Everyone good? Whole? No holes we didn’t start out with this morning?”

“All good,” I say. “Two snakes are in the desert with another driving off with a hole in his arm.”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, then.”

I’m not going to argue, and I hurry to my bike as the truck slowly makes its way back onto the highway. All I need to do is make sure this load gets delivered, and I’m on my way back home to Dixie.

God help any man who tries to stop me again.

Chapter 23

Dixie

Holding the tub against my hip with my left hand, I grab the plates and glasses from the table with my right. My large belly makes things a little more difficult than they used to be, and Nancy’s kicked me out from behind the bar after I knocked over a two-hundred-dollar bottle of whiskey.

“Let me help you,” Penn says, walking over and grabbing the plates.

Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “I’m fine. I can do this, Penn.”

“You don’t have to,” he says.

And we’re back to the conversation about money. How he’ll provide for me while I sit at home and eat bonbons and grow a baby. “Yes, I do,” I remind him. “My center of gravity is just a bit off, and until Nancy trusts I won’t knock over expensive bottles of booze with this baby, I can’t get back behind the bar.”

He’s not happy with my answer, but he doesn’t fight me. Which I’ll take as a win. “Okay.”

“You’re sweet, but I’m okay. Really.”