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“But what can I do from in here?” I ask.
“What you can do is get us close to the Devils since you know them,” Snake says. “But you’re right. You can’t do it from in here.”
I let the silence that follows hang, trying hard not to let my face betray all the happy, excited thoughts of escape, which I’m sure these men can orchestrate where Gene and I would fail. But I still don’t know if that’s my best path forward here. I’d prefer to walk out of here a free man.
“What’s you plan?” I ask anyway. Because I’d also like to walk out of here as soon as I can.
Snake snarls again. “First things first. We need to know we can trust you. Your father says we can, he’s been telling us that since you got here, but you have to prove it now.”
Here it comes. The price. Now he’s gonna ask me to kill someone and if I do it, I cement my future even worse than it already is.
“That hot piece of ass that came in with Hunter yesterday, we want her,” Snake says. “And you’ll make sure we get her.”
“What’s that for… why?” I manage to somehow choke put past the hard as stone lump that’s now lodged in my throat. “She’s nothing.”
Fuck, that’s the hardest lie I ever told. It barely made it out of my mouth. My hand jerks to my chest with a pointless impulse to cover her name that’s tattooed over my heart, but I stop short of actually doing it. It’s not visible through the thick white fabric of my t-shirt, and there’s little chance any of them would’ve seen it. My father, maybe, but he never asked about it, so I doubt it.
“She’s Scar’s daughter, isn’t she?” Snake asks sharply.
I wish I could deny it. I wish I could tell them she’s just some random woman Hunter picked up on his ride here. But denying what they already know about her would make me seem useless to them in this scheme they got cooking against the Devils.
“Yeah, she is,” I say, letting my anger at Scar into my voice. Anger I shouldn’t feel, because he’s right and I’m the one who walked away without a fight, but I do anyway.
“Of course she is,” one of the other Renegades pipes up—a man well into his fifties with no hair and grey eyebrows. “She looks exactly like her mother Lynn did back in the day.”
He licks his fat pink lips after he says it and it’s the most nauseatingly disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.
“Going after their women is just gonna piss them off like crazy, you know how they are,” I say. It’s no secret that the Devils have started full-on wars for their women. “No, the only way to take down the Devils is if they don’t know we’re coming.”
Fat chance of that happening. Even if I don’t tell them what’s cooking the first chance I get, Hawk will get wind of it before it’s even a threat. He’s the Devils’ intel guy and while he might be getting on in the years, his web of informants and skills at finding shit out is still second to none.
“Scar’s daughter will be a little favor for an old friend of mine,” Snake says lewdly. “And a way for you to prove you’re with us a hundred percent. You make sure we can grab her, and we make you a free man and help you get your revenge. How does that sound?”
It sounds like I never woke from that damn nightmare that plagued the few minutes of sleep I managed to get last night. The one where a beam from the roof of a burning house falls and traps me, preventing me from getting out, forcing me to feel every last lick of the flames that eat me alive. Even when I wake up from it, my skin keeps burning. I’ve been having that dream for years. I don’t even remember when it started. All I know is that I never had it while I was with Harper.
The crowd around me is fidgeting some, and it's a near impossibility that at least one of them didn’t read me thinking all that off my face. But then again none of these guys are very bright. They wouldn’t be in here if they were, for one thing. And they wouldn’t be thinking of attacking the Devils for another.
“What do you want me to do?” I somehow force myself to ask. What I really want to do is rip his head off with my bare hands for even suggesting I hurt Harper.
“You get her to come to a set place and we take it from there,” Snake says. “Bonus points if Hunter comes with her. They’re screwing, right?”
I almost snort a laugh. Hunter barely looks at women who are not Trixie.
“Could be, I wouldn’t know,” I say instead.
“Seems to me you could know,” another Renegade interjects. This one was also in the visiting room yesterday, and he maybe had a better view of the three of us, and of me holding Harper’s hands and all that.
“As far as I know, Hunter’s devoted to his slut Trixie. You probably know her,” I say to the two Riders. “But then again… “
“Trixie,” one of the Riders hisses then spits on the ground by his feet. “We have some unfinished business with her too.”
“I don’t doubt that,” I say. “She’s a slippery one.”
Talking this kind of trash about the truest friends I’ve ever had is making me feel like I’m in some kind of alternative reality where everything looks normal, but none of it makes sense.
“Hunter’s mine,” I add.
I’ve now waded into this terrible fantasy world this deep so I might as well just go all the way. “This whole plan would work better if I was the one out there meeting them.”
