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“What’d you go away for?”
We didn’t have a lot of hard and fast rules in the club, but crimes against women, children, or anything to do with drugs were big no-nos for us.
The last one less because of morals, and more because addictions got… complicated. And we needed things decidedly not complicated with our men, considering how delicate our line of work is.
To that, Velle snorted. “I went out with the wrong woman. Who happened to ‘belong’ to some rich and powerful fuck in the area who accused me of stealing his car. I thought it was her car. I was taking a drive with it while I waited for her to get done at the nail place. Got slapped with a grand theft auto and did three years.”
“She didn’t defend you?” I asked.
To that his brows raised, like I was asking a stupid question. “Don’t think she had much of a choice in the matter when she belonged to a man like that.”
I was going to make sure we had Arty confirm his story, maybe even look into that guy and his girl. But I kind of liked Velle. And it wouldn’t hurt to have someone in the club who had a knack for getting information out of people.
“How was it inside?” I asked.
“Eh, it was… inside,” he said. “Sucks at first, then you get used to it. Got bunked with a shrink who got charged with giving out meds for a price. Learned some interesting shit from him.”
“The kind of shit that has party girls admitting to being abused by their moms?”
“I didn’t fucking hypnotize her or some shit like that,” he said, shaking his head. “But if you just know how to… guide a conversation and ask the right questions… people will tell you anything you want to know.”
To that, I nodded, figuring it was probably true. Especially if someone had a couple drinks in them. And Ceerie was always drinking at parties.
The woman who was currently piggy-backing on Coast in the pool as he tried to blast another club girl with a foam water gun each time she popped up out of the water in a different location, smile plastered over her face, seemed like a completely different one from the serious, vulnerable one who’d been sitting with Velle just moments before.
“So, the P.O. situation…”
“Over,” he told me. “I even moved and got new numbers after it was over,” he said.
“Okay,” I agreed, nodding. “And you know how prospecting works?”
“Used to be forced to do chores with the prospects of my old man’s club back in the day. Figure shit isn’t that different here.”
“And guns…” I said.
“What about ‘em?”
“Do you know anything about them? Can you shoot?”
“Dad was a… let’s call him a hobbyist,” he said, but the way he looked off to the side and shook his head said that maybe his dad was a little bit less of a hobbyist, and a little more obsessed with the cold, hard metal. “I was holding a rifle before I could even walk,” he added. “Learned to shoot young. I’m no one’s sharpshooter, but I can hit a target.”
I liked his honesty.
I was no sharpshooter either.
But that was what we had Alaric for.
“Have I passed the test?” he asked when I had nothing else to say.
“You’ve… piqued my interest,” I said. “But this isn’t my decision. How’d you hear about this open house?” I asked.
“The club in town was talking about it.”
“What club in town?”
“The other MC?” he said, brows pinching, confused by my confusion.
“Like your dad’s MC?” I clarified.
