I listen closely, as I would have sworn there were only two. That’s the only reason I took a few extra shots at the last guy. I only saw two. I assumed and almost got my ass dead for it.
“He came in when he heard the shots. He was waiting out front, probably to clear a path to the car if needed. Guys might look professional, but their aim was shit. I got the system looking up prints now, but so far, they ain’t in any database.”
“They’re not local.” I didn’t mean to speak, and I cringe and close my eyes, knowing I just revealed my hand.
Everyone looks at me, drawing in close to the table. Law’s the one who asks the question on everyone’s mind. “Well, then, who are they?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.” Casper laughs again, but it just pisses me off, and I glare at him. “I don’t. Never seen them before in my life.”
“But you know where they came from.” Bass is the one to spot what I’m not saying, and I nod once.
“Where?” Law barks. It’s low but no less menacing.
“Russia.”
Chapter 7—Bass
“Woman has jokes.” I force a laugh, even if nothing is funny in what she said.
“Do I look like the type to make fun of something like this?” Her neck does this back-and-forth thing that reminds me of a chicken a bit. If she weren’t holding her hands so tightly in fists, I bet she’d be swinging.
I take the invitation, even if she didn’t mean it like that, and scan every inch of her body that I can see. I’m sitting far enough away from the table that I can see more than just her top half, and I take my time taking her in. Her jeans are dark and tight on her, as is her black shirt, not that she’s showing much skin. It’s not a plunging neckline, just a U-shape to give a hint of cleavage as she cages in her girls. And they ain’t little based on the stretch of the material over them. She might not be trying to entice, but she sure is doing a good job of it. She’s also showing that she was waiting, ready for the attack. Dressed in dark colors to blend in with the shadows. Hair pulled back to keep it away from her face so it didn’t obstruct her view. Nothing about her says victim, but I don’t think I would call her a soldier either.
“You look like a lot of things.” I draw out the pause, looking her over again, and earn a cocked eyebrow from her that I secretly love getting. “But you sure don’t look like you’re from here.”
“We’ve been over this before. I’m from Brooklyn. Get it right, redneck.” She crosses her arms, and I bet she thoughther name for me would piss me off, but it just makes me smile. I’ve been called worse, and I ain’t about to let slip where I’m from like she did. I half expected her attitude earlier to be fake, a con of some sort, but she keeps insisting, and she doesn’t seem like the lying type. Sure, she’s holding shit in and not giving more than she needs to, but not blatantly lying in your face for the fun of it. If she does it, it’s to survive.
“Why would the Russians be after you?” Casper asks with narrowed eyes, no doubt trying to figure it out before she says it.
“Ollie’s dad.”
Her words take a bit of wind out of our sails. Going after an adult is one thing; going after a kid is another. I look at Chains and see his jaw tense. He isn’t the only brother who had someone go after their kid, but he’s the only one who had it happen more than the rest.
“What about him?” Law asks with a softer tone as he sits back in his chair and props his feet up on the table. He might not show it like Chains, but I imagine he’s just as twisted up about it, no doubt thinking of his Ruby and the attack on her a while back.
“He wants Ollie.”
Her quick answer doesn’t deter Law. “That it?”
“Pretty much. He sees him as his property and wants him back. I don’t want him to have him. Plain and simple.”
“Nothing simple about three dead bodies,” Casper says in a cold tone.
“What can I say? He really wants him back. But, for obvious reasons, I’m not handing him over.” Obvious because they’re using lethal weapons to get him from her.
“And the fake name you gave us was your way of keeping him from finding you.” Gator makes it a statement, one she nods at as she looks at him.
The rest of us look at him to explain further, but she does it for him. “Only the last name was fake. Didn’t want me or Ollie to slip up and call each other our real names in front of people.”
The woman is a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one. A fact I’m sure I’m not the only one noticing as we sit and talk to her.
I look at my boss and watch him take it all in. It’s his call. The club might vote on long term, but right now, this is on him.
He looks at Casper, and they share a silent conversation. Casper isn’t the VP, but he’s got a handle on most things around here, plus a level head. Milly wasn’t wrong in thinking he has the potential to be a club president. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ventured out and took up the start of a sister chapter in a few years. Not that he’s mentioned ever wanting to, but you can see it in his eyes—the need to lead, to call the shots. He might have been a sniper in the past, taking orders when given, but never doubt that he was the one who made the ultimate choice about who lived or died.
“I’ll take care of it,” Casper says a second before he stands and goes to get Kooper and Domino from “Ollie watch” before they exit out the back of the club.
“What’s he taking care of?” The quickness in her voice gives away her sudden fear.
