Page 16 of Tripwire


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“Thanks for joining us.”

Drew and I nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t reply otherwise, letting him continue.

Vesper watched us with cunning eyes. The man was a great president, judging by what we’d seen so far, and he had Cade’s respect. Our Austin pres was a good judge of character and I trusted him not to fuck us over.

“We could use your help if you have the time,” Vesper finally said.

My brows shot up. Having us help them out with club business was usually a test run for Nomads. It was a way for the president and VP to figure out whether they’d be a good fit for the club. Was he considering asking us to stay here with them? I didn’t hate the idea. Recent events made the thought of staying in the San Francisco area appealing. And by events I meant meeting Marina.

“Sure,” I responded. “What can we do for you?”

I didn’t need to check with Drew to see if he agreed. We’d known each other for far too long for me to wonder whether he was on board. He was.

“My guys have to go pick up two shipments on opposite sides of the city. It’s a bit last minute so I’m short on manpower. I want you to ride with Cy to go get one of the shipments.”

Easy enough.

I glanced over at Vesper’s Sergeant At Arms and grinned. Cyclone scowled back at me. The man almost never smiled. This would be a chance to get to know him at least. If we were going to stay in this club, we needed to make sure we liked the men. That we’d be able to bond with them as brothers.

“Count us in,” Drew replied.

Cyclone’s mouth turned up into his own smile, but it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The guy was a bit of a lunatic. Granted, we all tended to march to the beat of a different drum, but he was something else. “You two can drive the cage.”

Disgust was instant. “Why not have a prospect drive the truck?” Anytime I wasn’t on a bike I was unhappy. Well, except when I was riding shotgun with a sexy siren. I realized how ungrateful I sounded as soon as I said it. I was new here, I didn’t have a right to argue. But the words were already out there.

“None available,” Vesper said. He leaned back on the rear legs of his chair and snagged a set of keys hanging off a hook. He tossed them at me.

Catching them one handed, I sighed inwardly. The truck it was. “When we going?”

“Now.” Cyclone stood up and stalked out of the room.

Shrugging, I nodded to the rest of the officers who were watching with grins on their faces. This was absolutely a test. Vesper had just given us his crankiest biker to complete a mission with so he could see how we handled ourselves.

Little did he know Drew and I had a way of pissing off grumpy men. We’d had plenty of practice with it in our old chapter and it was something we not only enjoyed, but excelled in. Cyclone would be the one to regret getting chosen for this particular challenge. Not us. I’d make sure of it.

A feral grin spread over my face and I gave Vesper a wink before we walked out. The resulting scowl on his face made me chuckle.

* * *

I checkedmy watch and fought down the impatience that was rising inside of me.

“Got somewhere to be, Pretty Boy?”

Pretty Boy?

I looked over at Cyclone and conceded that compared to him I probably was pretty. He had dark hair, a deep tan, was covered in tattoos and he had a wicked scar that marred his cheek. It slashed down from the temple to the tip of his lip.

“Sure do,” I told him, tone pleasant.

“That happen to be that sweet young thing that slipped out of the clubhouse this morning?”

Gritting my teeth, I fought back the urge to snarl at him. He was just trying to get me to react. “That’s the one.”

He grunted, his eyes scanning the dock, waiting on some kind of signal. He hadn’t shared anything with us, so we just leaned against the truck and waited. Daytime pickups were always a bit nerve wracking.

“What are we picking up?” Drew asked, changing the subject. He probably noticed the vein in my temple popping out. It tended to do that when I was gritting my teeth. Both were a clear indication of when I was pissed.

Cyclone’s eyes slid over to us. “Doesn’t matter.”

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