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He screws his face into a scowl. “She was on a singing contest show. Not quite the same thing.”
“Close enough.” I shrug. “Don’t sweat it. Just give me the dates when you have something firm, and I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks.” He blows out a relieved breath. “Remy will understand.” He drops his gaze and lowers his voice. “I don’t know how the fuck I’m gonna break it to Molly, though.”
Remy might encourage him to go just to get Griff away from Molly. That’s a mess I don’t want to be around for. “Break it to her gently. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
He rolls his eyes and a smirk hovers at the corners of his mouth but he doesn’t agree or disagree.
Something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. I turn slightly. Rooster’s standing near the racetrack. He raises his hand and swings it wildly in the air, signaling us to join him.
“Are we good? Anything else? You planning to audition for America’s Next Top Model too?” I ask.
“Fuck off.” Griff laughs. “I don’t even think that’s still airing, Grandpa.”
Heh. I kinda wish Grinder were here. I bet he’d enjoy the karmic justice of Griff calling me grandpa.
We walk over and join Rooster and Jigsaw. A few seconds later, Murphy and Teller step up next to us. We all fan out to include them in our circle.
Rooster bumps my elbow, then leans in. “We might have an issue,” he says in a low voice. He turns toward Murphy and I assume says the same thing in his ear. Murphy nods but doesn’t say anything.
“You know who’s racing the blacked-out G-Wagen?” Rooster asks Griff.
My gaze shifts to the racetrack where a matte black Mercedes-Benz AMG G 63 SUV is pulling up to the line. Even if the windows weren’t tinted, I doubt I’d be able to see the driver at this distance.
Griff rubs his thumb, middle, and index fingers together in the universal sign for money. “Some guy from downstate.” He runs his fingers over his throat. “Wicked ink.”
Rooster sighs. “Lion?”
“Yeah.” Griff frowns. “Why?”
“You think it’s Quill?” I ask Rooster.
“I do,” he confirms.
“Is he a problem?” Griff asks.
“No,” Murphy answers, casting a quick glance at Rooster. “He’s the brother of the Devil Demons MC’s president. Their charter’s like three hours west of here.”
“Half-brother,” Teller corrects with a smirk.
“Whatever.” Murphy rolls his eyes. “He runs a different crew farther south. But he’s got permission to go through our territory to Canada. Not supposed to be doing business here, though.”
Griff lifts his hand and signals Remy to join us. “Far as I know, he races and that’s it,” he explains while we wait for Remy. “Doesn’t stick around for the after-party or pick up chicks.”
Even more suspicious. “Pretty sure his crew runs a counterfeiting operation,” I say. “You check whatever cash he spends here? Or anyone he’s raced have complaints?”
Remy jogs over and joins our circle. “What’s up?”
“Anyone have an issue with the money G-Wagen flashes?” Griff asks.
“Not that I know of.” Remy turns and scans the track. “Eraser or Pip would know better than I would, though. Why? Isn’t he a friend of your club?”
“Debatable,” Murphy says.
“Just wondering if he’s trying to wash cash through here,” I say.
“Illegal gambling isn’t the best way to do it,” Teller mutters.
“Yes, we all know you’re the expert.” I try to keep the exasperation out of my tone.
“He never loses,” Remy says. “Far as I know.” He jerks his thumb toward the track. “Guys were just bitching about taking him down tonight.”
“Everyone’s gotta pay an entrance fee, yeah?” I ask. “I’d start checking his bills.”
“And let us know if there’s a problem,” Murphy says. “Don’t try to handle it yourself.”
“You better pass that on to Eraser,” Griff says. “This is his place.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Jigsaw volunteers.
“Thanks,” Murphy says.
“We good?” Remy lifts an eyebrow. “I gotta help out.” He slaps Griff’s chest. “And I need to keep him occupied.”
Maybe Remy’s not as in the dark about what his best friend and little sister are up to as I thought. Once those secrets unravel, it might test their loyalties, which won’t be good for my club.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Emily
There wasn’t time to worry about Dex or our relationship yesterday. He was busy with club stuff and I spent the day at Libby’s school.
Her last show was hectic but also cathartic when it was time to finally break down the set.
Monday morning Libby and I are rushing out the front door. I’m going to be late again.
Outside, there’s a big, black SUV parked at my curb.
“Dex is here!” Libby races over the grass and stops next to the passenger side door.
I toss my stuff in the car and walk down to meet him at the end of the driveway.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask.
“Taking Libby to school.” His brows pinch together. “I said I was going to help you out.”
