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“Then why the hell didn’t you make her leave?”
“This is on Tori,” Dante cuts in angrily. “Much as I hate to admit it. She invited Rory here. She told me she was trying to get Rory and Rogue back together. She was hoping Rogue would get jealous if he saw Rory flirting with other men here.”
“Jesus Christ,” Axel sighs. “Your woman’s gonna be the death of all of us, Dante. This club ain’t no place to play matchmaker, for fuck’s sake.”
Dante nods grimly. “She should have known better, for sure. You best believe I handed her her ass about this. She knows she fucked up big-time.”
The Wretched Souls did some damage to the property on their way out, so Axel and Rourke give some orders out on fixing the shit that got damaged. Axel tells us he’s gonna beef up security on the compound. “Yoda,” he says, turning to our tech guy, “you need to make sure all the security cameras are working. I’m beefing up security around the perimeter. No one gets in or even near the compound without us knowing. I’ve got the prospects guarding the front gate, but after church is over I’m switching it up so at least one of the guards is a patched member at all times.” He scans around the room. “Rogue, I need you to run over to the shop this morning. Make sure everything’s good over there, and the Souls didn’t trash anything on their way out of town.”
“Understood.”
Axel bangs the gavel and church is over. I book out of there and head back to my place to check on Rory. But when I get there, she’s gone.
“Son of a bitch,” I groan. Turning to Dogzilla, I ask, “You didn’t stop her leaving?”
He hangs his head and at least has the decency to look guilty.
I let the dog out and slam down the front steps to my Harley. Firing it up, I peel out and stop at the front gate. Mensa and Weasel are there standing guard. Mensa lifts his hand to his forehead in a salute.
“Hey,” I call over the sound of my engine. “You see Rory take off?”
“Yessir!” Mensa chirps. “Little less than an hour ago.”
Dammit.“What’s she driving?”
“Piece of shit faded red Toyota hatchback,” Weasel grunts. “Needs a muffler bad.”
I file that away for future reference and take off out of the gate.
First stop is Ironwood Car and Truck Repair. It’s the weekend, so I don’t expect to find anyone there, but it turns out one of our mechanics, Thorpe Summers, is there working on his own truck.
“Hey, buddy!” he calls out. “What’s up?”
“Came to check on the shop. We had some trouble over at the clubhouse with another MC. Axel sent me over here to make sure they didn’t come over here and give us a parting gift on the way out of town.”
“Huh. Well, everything looked okay when I got here this morning. Ain’t seen anything or anyone except you.” He pulls a rag from his back pocket and starts wiping oil off his hands.
“Good to hear.” The tension I’m carrying in my shoulders eases a bit. “Whatcha doin’ to the truck?”
“Just an oil change,” he shrugs. “Handy to have the shop to do it at.”
Thorpe and I have been buddies since high school. We’re not that close now, since I’ve got the club. I got him hired on here a while back, after he had some trouble with a divorce and some legal trouble I don’t know too much about. He was around when Aurora and I first got together, back in the day. I remember he was against it at first, telling me she was too high maintenance and I should just fuck her a few times and move on. It was the closest Thorpe and I ever came to a fist fight. He figured out pretty quick not to badmouth Aurora around me. After that, the most he would ever say was to give me shit, jokily asking when the wedding was gonna be. Of course, then not long after graduation Aurora and I eloped, and that was that.
Seeing Thorpe now reminds me what Rory said to me earlier about running into him downtown. It’s almost like Thorpe can read my mind, because he brings it up himself.
“Hey, you know who’s back in town?” He smirks. “Aurora.”
“Yeah. I knew that.” For some reason, I don’t elaborate.
“She was lookin’ like a high-class snack.” Thorpe continues, one corner of his mouth curling up. “All dressed up. No more slumming with the bad boys for her, I guess. She was with some rich-lookin’ corporate dude in an expensive suit.”
“That was her dad,” I say, pissed that Thorpe is telling me this like I care.
He shakes his head. “Nah, not her dad, unless he’s had a fuckin’ mountain of plastic surgery. This guy was mid-thirties, tops. Looked more like a date. Albeit a boring as fuck one.” Thorpe eyes me. “Think she’s back in town to get some more of that sweet sweet Daddy Wilkins money? I heard through the grapevine he might be kickin’ the bucket soon.”
“How the hell would I know?” I snarl.
“Hey, I wasn’t sayin’ you would!” Thorpe raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just shootin’ the shit, my man. Shoot, you’re a little touchy about your ex-bride.”
