Page 41 of The Price of Love

She’s not wrong, but I don’t say it. With them wearing their cuts over their jackets, it looks like they were poured into their vests. I’m guessing, most times, the Graces wear their coats over their cuts, but with this being their event, they want their cuts on the outside to show their colors. No matter what, we always show our colors on the outside.

I didn’t remember Shadow’s vest looking so tight, so I glance toward the registration area. Just laying eyes on her makes something inside me flutter. The fuck. I was right; she doesn’t look poured into her cut. As I glance around at the Graces, it’s the women with big tits who look like stuffed sausages. Shadow fills her cut without fighting it.

Not wanting to get caught staring at Shadow, I turn to Frost. “Who’s riding that old Shovelhead?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” Frost says.

Dimples flashes a smile and is about to answer when Wiz lets out an ear-piercing whistle. All eyes turn toward her. She’s standing on a makeshift stage where I assume a band will play this evening. One of the Graces hands her a microphone.

After her welcoming remarks, she drones on about the rules. I’ve been to a million poker runs, so I tune her out and let my gaze wander to the registration table. Shadow is processing the last of the Thorns, so I watch her work. I’m glad I’m wearing sunglasses, so I can pretend to be listening to Wiz.

Wiz draws my attention back when she shouts into the mic. “All right, ladies. It looks like registration is finishing up. Are you about ready to fire up your bikes?”

A loud roar rises from the bikers, and a murmur spreads through the crowd. The beginning of a run is always special.

“I’m gonna join the Graces now.” She spreads her arms toward the crowd. “Once again, thank you for your generosity. The women and children at Hearth Haven thank you, as well.”

Wiz jumps down from the stage and saunters toward the Graces. She must be in her late fifties or early sixties, but she can still swagger.

Most of the Graces are standing beside their bikes, but the Shovelhead sits without a rider. Then Shadow hustles across the parking lot. No, it couldn’t be hers. Sure enough, I watch the flash of her white shoes as she throws her leg over the Shovelhead’s seat.

As I watch her settle onto the bike, she just got even more interesting.

CHAPTER 19

SHADOW

It’s not far to Galway, about thirty minutes, where we’re making our first stop. Some older riders and less experienced ones will eat lunch with the group and then ride back to the clubhouse and wait for us. It makes everyone feel included.

With so many bikes, it took us longer than we’d planned, but by the smell of the barbecue wafting in the air, lunch is ready. I dismount from my bike and make my way to the large white tent set up in the grassy area. Twisted Tap is too small to handle this many customers inside.

The bikes are still rolling. With the Thorns bringing up the rear, it’ll be a bit before I’m on Storm duty. Not that I mind.

I approach Wiz. “What would you like me to do?”

She gives me a knowing smile. “You’ve only got one assignment for the rest of the day.”

“That’s it?” I’m surprised she doesn’t want me helping with the food line.

“Yep, that’s it.” She points to the lot. “Looks like they’re just pulling in.”

As I walk away, Wiz says, “See what you can find out about Aces.”

I pull up. “Didn’t she pass a few months ago?”

“January.” There’s a distinct edge in her voice, and her eyes are hard.

It feels off, her wanting intel on someone who’s dead. Or does she suspect Aces is the key to uncovering the depth of the Thorns’ operations?

“Uh, yeah, sure thing.” There’s so much I want to ask, but not with Wiz like this. Slinking off is what a shadow does best, so that’s what I do.

When Storm and Dimples walk into the tent, I approach them. “I apologize the line is so long. Seems like everyone’s hungry.”

Storm greets me before she directs her members to snatch up the nearby empty tables.

“Hey, Shadow,” Dimples says and pulls me in for a hug. “I didn’t want to bother you while you were working, but now I can get my hug. How have you been?”

“Good. How about you?” I answer.