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“What is it?” I ask. “Something’s bothering you.”
He nods. “It’s the reason I wanted you to swing by actually.”
“You having problems with the club I set you up with?”
Old Grim shakes his head. “Nah. Nothin’ like that.”
“Good. That’s good.”
When I made the decision to leave an everyday status with the club, I felt bad for leaving them in a lurch in Phoenix. So, I came up with an idea. I had a smaller club that was originally based in Yuma, the Road Screamers, who were looking to expand and get into the game move into the area. We set up shop with them and they grew quickly. They took control of the corridor and the distro network and have even kept Ratchet and the Deviants in check. So far as I know, everything’s been working out well on that end.
“So, if it’s not the Screamers, what’s going on?” I ask.
“It’s the Howlers,” he says.
“What about them? Last I heard, they were pretty well decimated.”
“They are,” he notes. “After you put them and the Deviants at each other’s throats—which was damn brilliant, I have to say—they were pretty well wiped out. But not completely. There are still a few of their old guard hangin’ around out there—Deadbolt and Hogwild—last I heard.”
I chuckle softly. “Deadbolt isn’t anybody you have to worry about. He’s a chump,” I say. “He’s an absolute coward. Hogwild, though—he’s one you have to watch out for.”
“There’s been a development,” he says.
“Yeah? They mounting a comeback out there?”
He shakes his head. “No, but we learned that Hammerhead is still alive.”
My mouth falls open and I’m gaping at him like a fool. I take a minute to compose myself and wipe the surprise off my face.
“You’re kidding me,” I say.
“I wish I were,” he replies grimly.
“How do you know?”
“One of our guys down there saw him,” Old Grim replies. “He’s living in that decrepit old clubhouse.”
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter. “Can’t we have the Screamers root him out?”
“I talked to their Prez and they want no part in that,” he tells me. “Say it’s our business and we should handle it. And I can’t blame them for feeling that way.”
“Yeah, I get it. I get it,” I say.
Shit. This complicates things in ways I didn’t expect. What the hell do I tell Molly?
“Anyway, I wanted to let you know, face to face, so you can see how serious this is,” he tells me. “Be a hawk. Keep your eyes open.
“Always do.”
He nods. “If Hammerhead is still out there, he might still be gunnin’ for you. So, you know, just keep an eye on your old lady and that baby of yours. That son of a bitch has no boundaries.”
“Yeah, I know,” I grouse. “And I appreciate the heads up. I really do.”
“You got it. We always have your back, kid,” he says. “Now, let’s go see that little bundle of joy, huh?”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Months Later…
