Page 83 of Wasted Time


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“Nobody noticed him?” Hawk asked, and when Bear shook his head, he continued. “He’s trained.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding. “He’s gotta be military.”

“Most likely,” Hawk agreed. “You think this could be an ex-member of the club who’s in bed with the cartel now? Someone you let go when you started rebuildin’?”

“A handful of men who walked away from our club were pissed about the changes we were making,” Bear admitted. “Wouldn’t be a stretch that they could join forces with another club, especially the few we let go who wanted to stay active runnin’ drugs.”

“Any of them military?” he asked.

“Most of them were,” Pop acknowledged. “We all fought in Vietnam, came home just tryin’ to make sense of it all and find a place where we didn’t feel like fucking outcasts. The clubs offered that. Hell, it was an easy transition for us. I know for me, personally, it saved my life. Gave me a chance to start over while clearin’ my head.”

“Where are you at in all of this?”

When Skinner spoke, my eyes flicked back and forth between him and Hawk, who he was watching closely. They were friends and served together, but Skinner took a clear stance on where he stood.

Hawk exhaled heavily. “I’m willin’ to provide backup if you need it. Talked to some older members, most of them know Pop and Gunner and respect them enough to want to help. They also don’t have a problem with your club. Neither do I, so if you need us, we’ll be there, but it won’t be all of us.”

“You’re sayin’ if you help us, it has the potential to divide your club?” Bear’s eyebrows drew together. “Sounds too risky to be an option.”

“My club’s already divided. The more I dive into everything, the more I’m finding that out.”

“What do you get out of it?” Bull asked. “Ain’t no Widow helping us without payback.”

Hawk stood and pushed in his chair, but his eyes remained on Bear. “My father would’ve helped your father. Way I figure it, we’re honoring them.”

I dropped my head hearing the words that had to be hard to say. Bear and Hawk had a lot in common. They both lost their fathers to club violence and members wanting more power. Neither death had to happen and it only did because they were both trying to clean up the clubs. The pushback cost them their lives. Now their sons were both at the helm trying to honor their father’s legacies.

“Appreciate the offer,” Bear replied. “We’ll reach out if we need you.”

“I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

Bear nodded, and Race stood before speaking. “I’ll walk you out.”

Hawk couldn’t walk around the building without an officer for a lot of reasons, but one was his safety.

After the door closed, I looked at Bear. “What’s the plan?”

“We wait for our call.” Bear slid his gaze from mine to Pop’s. “Have a feelin’ it’s coming soon.”

“Then what?”

Bear faced me again. “Kyle’s got a trace on Gunner’s and my line. Also had him put one on yours. When he calls, we keep him on the line long enough, Kyle might get a hit on his location.”

“If he’s watching us, he just saw a Widow walk out of our clubhouse,” I pointed out.

“He’s been watching a while,” Pop said. “Couldn’t have done all this without being thorough.”

“So we wait?” I asked, but when Bear nodded, I shook my head. “I’m not waiting.”

“You just spent hours looking and found nothing,” Bear reminded me.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Not lookin’ for her. I’m looking for the little bastard in the gray truck while we wait for the call.”

“We got nothin’ on him.”

Race pushed open the door and stepped inside, but my eyes were locked on Bear. “Got a partial plate, know the truck make and model, and that it’s registered in Indiana.”

“That’s enough for me.” Bull stood. “I’m goin’ with you.”

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