Page 7 of Cannon

“I haven’t had her five minutes, man. She’s not for sale.”

“Oh, come on. Everything has a price. Name it.” Santos’s tone starts to get under my skin. Now he’s starting to sound like the boss he told me about.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Not everything has a price, Santos. My truck isn’t for sale.” I start to walk away and stop when he speaks.

“My boss doesn’t take no for an answer. When I tell him about your truck, he will ask why I didn’t buy it for his collection and won’t be happy with me.”

“Then I suggest, Santos, that you don’t tell him about it. You won’t get into trouble, and I won’t have to tell your boss no to his face when he comes for a look himself.”

“He won’t come himself. He has a few business associates who he uses for negotiations.” Santos gives me a raised eyebrow look, so I know exactly what he is inferring.

“I am a skilled ‘negotiator’ myself, so if he’s sending any, they had better be first-class and there’d better be a lot of them.” I turn to walk back to the driver's door when his words stop me again. This time my anger starts to rise.

“They will be a better ‘class’ of negotiator than a mere biker. Of that, you can be sure. They will outclass any skills you think you have.” The look on his face tells me that this is a script that he has used many times before and he is used to getting results from it. “Save yourself the trouble and take my offer of twenty thousand dollars.” He smirks, as he knows that is a very low offer.

“That just annoys me almost as much as you still standing there. I suggest you take my counteroffer and leave immediately.”

“You haven’t made a counteroffer, Cannon.”

“You are still standing and breathing, that is my counteroffer. If you don’t leave, you won’t be doing either, Santos.” That has the desired effect, and he no longer looks so confident. “I can promise you that my ‘negotiating skills’ far outweigh any skills you think you may have.”

His hand moves towards his back and then stops. Obviously, he normally carries an unregistered weapon at his spine, but he’s just remembered he’s wearing his one-piece leathers. I grin at him, and he knows that I know he doesn’t have that weapon.

“Perhaps we will discuss this another time, my friend, Cannon.”

“For your sake, I hope not, and I am most definitely not your friend.” This time I make it to the driver's seat without him making any more comments. I watch him through the rearview mirror as I drive away, and he is taking something from his leathers. I’m guessing that it’s a phone, and he’s calling for more negotiators. Using my Bluetooth, I place my own call and get backup on the way.

As I continue towards the crem, my original destination, I see Santos following. I think I’d be better not leading them to a club business so turn off and try to think of a place that will keep any trouble away from prying eyes. Nowhere springs to mind, so I call Breaker and tell him I’m leading my tail out of town.

Surprisingly, I see not one, but two SUVs tuck in behind Santos’s bike, so I let Breaker know that piece of information, too. He tells me to keep driving as I am, but to get a decent distance between me and my tail. Only slightly increasing my speed, so they hopefully don’t notice too soon, I increase the gap and then match their speed to keep it.

There’s a bend in the road coming up, and once around it, I’ll be out of sight for a few seconds. Breaker tells me to put my foot down once I’m out of their sight and then pull over in the oncoming lane if it’s clear. As soon as they are out of my rearview, I gun the engine, slip over to the other lane, and pull up.

As I slip out of my truck, I see Breaker standing with Pens and Bank. He says something to them, and Pens throws a spike strip across the road. Santos and the first SUV stand no chance of avoiding it, and their tires are well and truly punctured. Santos goes down, and the first SUV stops to avoid hitting him. Breaker then nods at Bank, and he throws another just in front of the second SUV. That too stands no chance as it swerves and brakes at the same time, trying to avoid the first stick.

Santos is on the ground, bike on top of him, and before the SUV doors have time to open, a swarm of brothers appear and surround them. Whack walks over to the driver’s door of the first SUV, while I run over to grab Santos. Dragging him from under his bike, he squeals as he screams that his leg is broken. Ignoring his protests, I drag him to where Whack is reading the riot act to the driver and his passengers.

At the second SUV, one of the rear doors opens and a big, ugly guy gets in Hellion’s face. I don’t see what happens, because it’s over in seconds, but the big ugly guy is on his knees and Hellion is holding onto one of his hands. By the look on his face, whatever Hellion is doing to it, it is fucking painful.

Once Whack has finished his chat with the driver, he walks over and looks down at Santos, who’s still whining about his broken leg. Whack stands on the offending limb, and when Santos has finished screaming he says, “You should ride a good All-American machine, and that probably wouldn’t have happened. Anyway, negotiations are over and the fucking truck is still not for sale. Not to you, your goons, or your boss.” Stepping over Santos and stepping on the broken leg again in the process, Whack calls for everyone to leave and head home.

Two of the club vans have appeared by my truck, as if by magic, and everyone piles in, except Breaker, who jumps into my passenger seat.

As we head home, he grins across at me. “Well, that was a bit of excitement for a change. How did you manage to get yourself into that mess so quickly?”

Explaining the meeting with Santos, when I get to the bit about not being carjacked by a lone biker, Breaker frowns. “You realize you have a bike carrier in the back? Or had you forgotten that little nugget? It sounds as though your friend Santos rides around finding new and interesting things for his boss to buy, appropriate, or just downright steal for his collection. Who is his boss, anyway?”

“Fuck, I forgot about the carrier, and fuck again, I don’t know who his boss is. I never asked.” It never entered my head to ask such a darn basic question. “Well, there can’t be too many people around these parts with a collection of vehicles and God knows what else. It shouldn’t be too difficult for Bull to find out who could be eligible for the role, surely?”

“We’ll ask when we’re back and the dust has settled. A good few of the brothers, and the officers, were looking forward to getting their knuckles bloodied. There’s going to be a certain amount of disappointment mixed in with the adrenaline.” Breaker shakes his head, then continues, “You’re getting as bad as Fury for getting into shit without trying. You know that don’t you?”

“If it leads me to a good woman like it did him, I won’t complain.” The words are out before I can stop them.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting broody for a woman and a family, too? I didn’t see that coming, Cannon, my brother.”

“You can laugh, you’re all loved up and under the thumb. Don’t try denying it either. I know you let her play boss at times, but I’ve seen her give you your orders, too. You know what? Maybe I should spend more time around the practice. Both you and Fury have got your women from there!”

“I didn’t get mine from there, if you recall. She started working there only after we got together. We had to get kidnapped to meet and I don’t recommend that as a way to meet women, I can tell you.” Breaker shakes his head, and it brings back the memories of the Broken Cobras and his rescue, along with Molly.