Page 21 of Property of Mongrel

“I probably have a wrong idea where biker clubs are concerned,” he confesses, chuckling. “But to be fair, all I know is what I’ve seen on television and in movies, so bikers aren’t typically painted in a good light.”

“I get it and I’m not gonna blow smoke up your ass. There are clubs out there who are into a little bit of everything. Our chapter of the Kings has a ton of legitimate businesses, though,” I reply. I don’t mention the gray areas we live in; that’s club business and he might be my brother, but he doesn’t get to know that information. “But so you’re aware, our club motto as a whole is ‘Nobody fucks with the Kings’ so take that information for what it’s worth.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass on ruffling any feathers. So, we haven’t found anything tangible as far as the girls are concerned. Do you think they remember us?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “They were so little, Jonah, so they probably don’t.”

It breaks my heart because not knowing where Josie, Anna, and Christie wound up kills me. There’s an inheritance out there that they’re entitled to, plus personal belongings that Grandma put aside for all of us regarding our family before it fell apart.

“I’m not gonna stop looking,” he says, his tone defiant.

“I’ve had our IT guy looking for them for years now,” I confess. “He’s chased down every lead, but so far, he’s come up empty. Now, Nerd is looking.”

“Who was looking before?” he asks.

“One of the brothers, Pokey, who recently passed away,” I reply as I slow down to make the turn into the park where the farmer’s market is located. “Look at that diagram and tell me where I need to go.”

We finally get parked, I unhitch the camper and Jonah takes the truck to park it nearby in a legitimate parking spot. By the time he’s back, I have all the pop outs opened and am getting everything set up for Gretchen, who should be here at any time.

“Holy shit, these are popular,” Jonah says from the side as he watches Gretchen talk to customers as she sells her wares.

“Right?” I reply as I grab a bag and fill it with the next customer’s request. “Gretchen, the hummingbird cake pops are sold out.”

“Got it, Mongrel,” she says. “Okay, folks, give me a few to update the sign because that might change what you want.”

I watch as she pulls the whiteboard toward her and places lines through three of the flavors that are now gone. “We still have six dozen of the covered strawberries, two dozen of the orange creamsicle pops, one dozen red velvet, and about three dozen each of the chocolate, vanilla, and sprinkle pops,” I call out.

“We may be done sooner than I thought,” she muses before she turns to the next customer in line.

“What are we gonna do when she sells out?” Jonah asks.

“Follow her around until Doc gets here,” I admit. “Once we get the camper broken down and hitched to the truck, that is.”

“Why do we need to follow her around?” he questions.

“Because that’s what we do for the ol’ ladies,” I say. I don’t mention that the person in charge of the fucked-up trafficking ring that we found is still out there which means Gretchen is potentially in danger. Again, club business keeps my mouth shut. “I don’t think any of us expected to see her sell out within the first hour of the market being open, though.”

“Mongrel, y’all don’t have to follow me around, I’m perfectly safe,” Gretchen protests about forty-five minutes later.

“You know better than to say that,” I rebut, smirking at her. “Doc would have my head if anything happened to you.”

“Just remember, you’re still healing,” she warns, giving me the stink eye.

I roll my eyes before retorting, “I’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure you’re safe, plain and simple. I don’t factor into that at all, Gretchen.”

“There’s no way he’d be here,” she insists.

“Who?” Jonah questions.

“Some asshole who kidnapped… well, he had me kidnapped because he was gonna sell me,” Gretchen snarls out. “He found out that nobody fucks with the Kings and has laid low ever since then, which means that Doc and his brothers are always hypervigilant when I’m out and about.”

“You’re never going through what you went through again, Gretchen. Ever,” I profess. “So, if you wanna go check out the tent with the candles and whatnot, that’s what we’ll do. Maybe I’ll find something for my therapist,” I tease.

“You like her?” Jonah asks.

“Yeah, I do,” I admit. “Only, she doesn’t date existing patients, so I’ve been busting my ass to get ahead of my rehabilitation so I can ask her out.”

“Do bikers date?” Gretchen teases. “I thought all of y’all just saw the woman you wanted, thumped your chest like cavemen and claim, ‘You’re mine’ and it’s a done deal.”