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My concern isn’t them not returning. It should be, but it’s not. My gut is screaming we’re going to get hit in another way. Bullets aren’t the only things that can take you down.
“Cas.”
Looking up at one of the prospects, I jerk my chin for him to speak.
“The sheriff’s back, looking for the brothers that were in town this morning.”
Finishing my beer, I take my time hauling my ass up and walk outside with Sparky on my heels.
“She looks like she has a stick permanently stuck up her cunt,” Sparky mutters under his breath.
I snort in amusement. “You’re not wrong, brother.”
She braces her hands on her hips when she sees us approach.
“Back again so soon? I’m privileged.”
She takes in Sparky and informs me, “I’m here on official business.”
“Lucky us,” he murmurs.
“There was an altercation in town earlier today, and I’m here to speak to the brothers involved.”
I keep my mouth shut as she pulls out her little black notebook.
“Leo Jackson, your son I believe, and four others. Are they here?”
“Sorry, I can’t help you.”
“Perhaps you should open these gates and let me look around for myself. You know, just in case you missed them.”
I laugh. That’s all I can do. The woman is fuckin’ tripping if she thinks I’m just going to let her through and take a good snoop around.
“Unless you have a warrant, you’ve got no chance. And even if you did have a warrant, you best bring an army to back you up, ’cause these gates will never open for you.”
Her lips turn up in a slow smirk. And I don’t like the twinkle in her fucking eye.
“The likes of you brightens my day. You really do.”
Widening his stance, Sparky shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wish we could say the same.”
“I will talk to them soon enough. I’ll warn you, prolonging it will only make it worse.”
Shrugging, I turn on my heels, and Sparky and me walk off to the sound of her starting her car and driving off.
“Leo, JJ, and Angel are far from here for the time being. Make sure the twins keep their heads down.”
He splits off and heads over to the main house, while I return to the bar. Helping myself to another beer, I fall onto the couch and drain the fucking thing before calling for the prospect, who quickly shuffles over and waits for his orders.
“Follow me.”
I head for my office and open the safe. Taking out $500 dollars, I pass it over to him.
“I want you to head over to Roseville and stock up on everything you bought earlier. Get as much as you can for the money I gave you.”
His brows knit together. “We already have enough for a few weeks. Shit’ll start to go bad if we get more.”
“Dried stuff, asshole. Canned foods, pastas, rice, bottles of water. Like I said, as much as you can get.”
