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I tried to convince myself it was simply curiosity and not because I currently had that with Sway.
“A good way,” I told Sway as I heard the elevator coming.
Slash.
I could tell everyone by their steps already. It was something I’d learned at my first apartment building after I’d gotten away from Cain. A sort of survival instinct. Back in those days where I stayed up all night and slept in short snippets in the busiest parts of the day, knowing someone would see or hear something if he or his people came back for me.
It was simply a skill I’d carried with me ever since.
“Alright,” Slash said, waving a file at Sway as he walked into the kitchen, then slapping it on the island.
“What’s this?” Sway asked, brows pinched as Slash opened the file.
And there was a mugshot.
“New prospect?” Sway asked.
I’d learned a lot about outlaw biker clubs, asking Sway for details on our walks with the dogs. A prospect was a potential new member that joined the club life in a sort of intern capacity, getting tossed all the undesirable jobs that the other bikers didn’t want to do while they got to know the person and their skills, deciding if they were a good fit for the club.
Then they would get “patched.”
And would earn one of those intriguing leather vests the guys all wore. “Cuts,” Sway had corrected me more than once. But they even wore them around the clubhouse most of the time.
Like a work uniform or something.
“One with a skill we could use right now. Who is getting out soon,” Slash explained.
“What skill?”
“Hacking,” Slash said.
“That’s what he’s in jail for?” Sway asked.
“No. Officially, he is in for assault.”
“And… unofficially?”
“He spent years tracking down the guy who swindled his ma out of a ton of money after his father died. Some sort of sweetheart scam. Ended up costing his ma her savings and her house. Then he beat the ever-loving shit out of him and got himself locked up.
“Apparently, the fuck he’d beat was wanted in a dozen states for conning women out of millions of dollars. The Feds had been looking for him for years. So it’s impressive that he managed to find him.”
“He have the potential to be a biker?” Sway asked.
“Dad owned a bike shop. He ran it after he died and until he got locked up.”
“Did you reach out already?” Sway asked as I looked at the mugshot.
He looked to be in his very early twenties and still in his street clothes, including a torn, bloody white tee that exposed some ink on his chest, and the sort of lean body men that age had, despite likely eating nothing but fast food and energy drinks.
His hair was a brown with a reddish hint to it. He had a sharp jaw covered in some stubble and hazel eyes.
Cute.
Would likely be pretty handsome now that his looks got some time to mature.
“Rook?” I asked, looking up at Slash. “His real name is Rook?”
“I know,” Slash said with a chuckle. “Real name like that, doesn’t need a road name.”
Sway reached out, flipping the mugshot over, and reaching for the next piece of paper.
“Oh, that’s another potential,” Slash said when my gaze landed on another mugshot.
A little older.
And a tank of a man.
Broad, strong, with dirty blond hair and a full beard and brown eyes.
“Hacker too?” Sway asked.
“Nah, just someone I think would be a good fit.”
“Do you pick all your prospects from the prison?” I asked, looking at Slash.
“I mean, most of the original brothers don’t have big records. But it makes sense, moving forward, to look to the jail first for prospects. They’re already in the life. And they are hungry for money and freedom. None of which is easy to come by with a record.”
“That makes sense,” I agreed.
I knew that Coach and Judge were from the prison. I guess I figured that was just some sort of happenstance, not a method of recruitment for the club.
“When does Rook get out?” Sway asked.
“That’s the best part. Couple days,” Slash said.
“Sounds like a plan then,” Sway said, nodding. “Where’s his ma?”
“That’s the reason for this,” Slash said, flipping through the file, coming up with an image. Of, I assumed, the conman who’d stolen his mother’s money. And it was… rough. The man’s face was swollen, bloody, and one giant bruise.
His body wasn’t much better.
“Shit,” Sway said, nodding, but not overly bothered by the image.
“Yeah. See, his ma was… fragile,” Slash said, choosing the word carefully. “And the financial shit, it seemed to put her into a rough spot mentally. I can’t find any actual records of what it is, but it seemed maybe like a bipolar or schizophrenic type of thing. Seems like Rook took care of her until he did this,” Slash went on, gesturing toward the file. “When he got locked up, it seems like she got committed.”
