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After a few bittersweet weeks home for the holidays—most of the Wild Wolves club members dispersed for the holidays anyway, so he hadn’t missed anything—he was back on the case. He hoped to figure out who in the biker club was setting these things up. And here he was back in the thick of things and hopefully one step closer to knowing who was making these deadly deals.
He didn’t like the setup, sitting in a parking lot in full view of the road, no cover.
If this shit went sideways... He didn’t want to think about it.
He definitely couldn’t take the time to text Lyric back and apologize.
“Are you clear on the plan?” Spike, aka Darrell Kelly, asked, his knee bouncing like a jackhammer and hitting the steering wheel.
“Dude shows up, we confirm what he wants done and when, count the money, and take off.”
“And you’re sure you’re cool with this?” Spike’s nerves rubbed Viper the wrong way; he didn’t like that the guy was so wound up.
If Spike was so inexperienced and ruffled by this, things could go wrong fast.
“Are you okay?”
Spike bit at his thumbnail. “It’s good money.”
“Yeah, but you have to kill someone to get it.” Viper had a lot of bad shit on his conscience and a lot of good reasons why he’d done what he’d done. It didn’t make it any easier to carry the burden of it all. He justified his actions in a lot of different ways to cope. But the body count was stacking up, and he had the scars, visible and not, to prove he’d lived a dangerous life.
Spike suddenly turned to him. “I thought you were up for this.”
Viper shrugged. “I’m here.”
“This has to go right.” Spike’s leg sped up. “I don’t want to end up like Bleaker.”
Not the same. “Don’t get into a shoot-out with the feds, then.” Viper thought that one was a no-brainer.
“The boss was not happy about losing him. Bleaker brought in a lot of money for doing protection and things like this.”
He tried to get Spike to open up even more. “Bleaker spent a lot of time out of state.”
Spike nodded, his whole body vibrating with thebounce of his knee. “There’s money to be had all over if you’ve got the network to insulate you from exposure.”
“I know Lobo isn’t running this. He protects the Wild Wolves at all costs. If he finds out someone is putting the MC at risk...”
Spike glanced at him. “What makes you think he doesn’t know?”
“Because this is never talked about in the MC.”
“The pres has plausible deniability by remaining on the fringe.”
Still, Viper wasn’t so sure Lobo knew about this. Someone might have told Spike the club president knew and to keep it quiet because talking about it could expose them all.
“Where the hell is this guy?” Viper wanted out of here. Now. The longer he waited, the more he felt like this could go sideways. Civilians thinking they could step into this world often got caught up in something they had no business being involved in, in the first place.
Headlights swept across the parking lot, highlighting the bait and tackle shop, along with a mom-and-pop sandwich shop. Both were closed this time of night.
What he wouldn’t give for something hot to eat and drink. It had to be nearly freezing, and the temperature was dropping.
The other car stopped, facing them about fifteen feet away. The headlights went out.
“I’ll follow your lead.” Viper opened his door and stepped out.
Spike met him at the front of the truck, both of them shivering in their leather jackets. They stared atthe other vehicle’s windshield, barely able to make out the two occupants.
Viper swore under his breath. “I thought you said it was one guy.”
