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“I’m willing to do any job.” I drummed my hands on the arms of the chair. “I’m used to the dirty work. I’ve done it my whole life. And I need security for Jonas. His parents fucked him over, and now I want to keep him safe.”
“Hm.” King clasped his hands together in front of himself. “How is the trailer park working out?”
I winced. “I got kicked out.”
He pressed his mouth together. “I heard you know something about Dutch.”
Surprise socked me in the gut. Did he know someone else in the trailer park? Or had Scar talked to him? “Yeah, I think he has some deal with the Demons. When I worked for him, I always had instructions not to do business in certain areas of the city, that it belonged to the Demons. Dutch also paid them a cut. I thought it was a deal you had with them, but when I first met Scar, he said otherwise.” I frowned. “I don’t really know much beyond that.”
“Okay. Sounds to me like Dutch is a fucking coward and was paying out protection money to the Demons, rather than doing his goddamned job and fucking them up to keep their hands off our product. That’s bad because it makes the Demons think they’ve got some say in what we do. I’ll fucking end that notion.” King’s mouth curved into a smirk. “You and Hound can pay Dutch a visit, too. Give him a little message that I want to personally see him in my office tomorrow at eleven sharp, come hell or high water.”
“And by message you mean—”
“Give his head a few kicks.” King rose from his seat and walked over to a baseball bat leaning against the bar. He picked the bat up and walked back, holding it out for me. I took it from him and slapped the thicker part against my palm a few times. “And take out his kneecaps. And if he wants to make it up to us, he’ll be here tomorrow, even if he’s in a wheelchair.”
I smirked. “Yes, Pres.”
King fell back into his chair and crossed his arms. “You and Jonas can stay in the clubhouse until you get some cash together. You’re one of us, and we take care of our own, even the prospects.”
Something warm filled my chest, but I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. After Leo went to prison, the only person I had was Tav, but now I had Jonas and the Kings, and even though both were very new, I had a good feeling about them.
I cleared my throat. “Thank you, King. I mean it.”
He winked. “Now go send my messages. Hound’s in the barroom.”
I nodded. “With pleasure.”
* * *
A few hours later, we couldn’t find Dutch. It was frustrating as hell. Hound was hungry, though, so we stopped at a burger place for him to get something to eat, and I waited outside, leaning against the brick wall beside the door. My mind wandered to Jonas, and I couldn’t wait to be done with this bullshit.
A few people left the restaurant, talking and laughing, and I was getting ready to see where the hell Hound was, when I noticed a silver Nissan pull up beside our bikes. I shoved my sunglasses higher up my nose. Crossing my arms, I watched as a man in a gray suit got out. There was something off about him. He began to pace near the bikes, and I groaned. I could tell by the way he strutted around like he owned the whole parking lot that he was a fucking cop. A detective.Fuck, that was all I needed. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him. The fact that I knew him had my spine stiffening.
With dark hair and a strong square jaw, he could’ve been any of the law enforcement I’d bumped into in the past. When he glanced at me, though, I knew I was fucked because his eyes narrowed. He stalked his way toward me like I was his target. Behind him, another cop got out of the other side of the car, and this one was in a uniform. He stayed where he was.
“Ethan Shepherd?” The cop in the suit came to a stop in front of me, eyeing me up and down carefully, as if assessing whether or not I was a threat.
“Who wants to know?” I asked, curling my lip.
“Detective Hanlon. I’ve been trying to find you.” He glanced at the door to the burger joint, then back at me. “Are you with the Kings now?”
I shrugged. “I’m with myself.”
“You wouldn’t be riding that motorcycle, would you?” He pointed at my Harley. “Because I checked, and you don’t have a license.”
I grunted. “Nope. If you saw me riding it, then you must be seeing things, Officer.”
“Detective.” Hanlon mirrored me by crossing his arms. The gun on his hip drew my attention, but I didn’t let it shake me. I’d talked to law enforcement more than I’d wanted to, or at least, I’dlistenedto them. I never ran my mouth. “I’m looking into the disappearance of John Nomikos.”
“Who’s that?” I drawled in a bored tone. I looked at my nails.
“I think you know.” Hanlon stepped in closer. “According to some reports, you’ve been seen with his son. Plus, you were dragged out of that pretty little private community to cool your heels in a jail cell.”
“Hm?” I smirked. “What can I say? I can’t help it if Jonas wants to take a ride onme.”
Hanlon’s mouth curled in irritation and his gaze lingered on my face. “Listen to me, kid. This would be so much easier on you if you told me the truth. Do you know what happened to John? He and his wife were attacked in the middle of the night. His wife made a desperate call to the police about seven hours after he was taken. She’d been tied up and was found by a friend who was worried she hadn’t come to church. When we got to her house, she was in shock and became disoriented. She believed her husband might have gone to Mexico to see her son. According to her, that was where her son had traveled to, but our contacts say he reentered the US days later. You wouldn’t believe who he was with.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please, tell me.Who?”
