From patches alone, I knew I was facing the Prez and the Enforcer.
I was intimately acquainted with everything there was to know about Blade’s and Ryder’s pasts. Including some beef the Enforcer had had with the Russians a decade or so before which was causing havoc with the MC right now.
Still, that wasn’t of any interest to me.
Politeness had brought me to this bar, the rules of the road insisting that I got ‘permission’ for being in Burbank.
“When Ryder told me a Satan’s Sinner was riding through my territory, I told him he was wrong. Seeing is believing,” Blade drawled as he nudged the kickstand with his foot, propped his bike up, then started walking through the tables toward me.
I could have gone to a biker bar, but instead, I’d headed for a cosmopolitan little place where I knew my presence would still make waves while trying to look as low-key as possible. Not that that was an easy feat when I stuck out like a sore fucking thumb.
“Seeing is believing,” I agreed, getting to my feet and holding out my hand.
Ryder tensed at the sight, his own hand disappearing into his cut where, tucked against his chest, he had a gun holstered out of view.
Blade didn’t react, other than to grab mine and pump it. “Last time I saw you, you looked like you were losing your mind. Now, here you are again, looking like a fucking wreckage. What happened? Something go down with that girl of yours?”
My nostrils flared, a reaction that had him smirking.
“Don’t worry, Rex." He raised his hands. "Only messing with you. As a courtesy from one Prez to another, I made sure to check in on her.”
A clamp felt like it had been settled on my lungs. “Does she know you were checking in?”
“Nah. It was only once a year. Had to make sure there was no reason you’d bring your band of hellions down here.”
“I guess,” I admitted begrudgingly.
The laughter in his eyes told me he knew that, in his shoes, I’d have done the same thing. It was clear that he found it funny I was pissed off.
Was it just me or did the fucker look like Maverick when he was amused?
“As far as I know, she’s okay. Had some issues recently with that stepfather of hers. Mostly, she's a good girl. Plays in the school band. That type of kid, you know?"
Stepfather?
“Jeremy Kinnock?” I clarified.
Blade nodded.
"What type of issues?"
"The wife called the cops in three weeks ago. There'd been a domestic. Officers turfed him out and calmed things down, but she never filed charges."
“How do you know that?”
His smug smile deepened. “Ways and means.”
I grunted, aware he wouldn't share anything else with me. He was just playing mind games. Wanting to fuck with my head. Genius prick was tangling with the wrong motherfucker.
“I’m here to meet her.”
Ryder scoffed, “You ain’t met her before now?”
Being honest when in another MC’s territory was the best way to go, but I didn’t like laying down my family’s vulnerabilities to a bunch of outlaws.
And I didn’t give a fuck if that made me a hypocrite, either.
“No,” I bit off. “I didn’t want to mess with her family dynamic.”
“Why you messing with it now then?”
Ryder’s sneer made my fists itch with the need to collide with that pretty boy face of his.
I grunted, “Because my dad just died.”
Blade stilled, but not for the reason I assumed. “I heard about that. I’m sorry, man. Bear was… Well, he was an East Coast legend.”
Pride lodged in my throat, and I barely managed to grate out, “Yeah, he was.”
“That blast was fucked up. I can’t believe those Sparrow asswipes bombed your goddamn compound.” He shook his head. “We ain’t had too many problems with them around here.”
“You have,” I said grimly. “You just don’t realize it yet.”
Blade didn’t like that. His scowl told me so as he postured, “I think I’d fucking know.”
“The Sparrows had trade routes all over the US.”
“Trade routes? What is this? The Silk Road?”
My top lip quirked up into a sneer that rivaled Ryder's. “Nothing so fancy. They sold women. Kids. Shipped them across the seaboard.”
Ryder rasped, “I’d have heard about it.”
“Some shit’s buried deep.” I shrugged. “They’re not so much my problem anymore. I got my own mess to be handling and the Five Points over in Manhattan are dismantling their operation.”
Blade cocked a brow. “The Five Points?”
“Irish Mob,” I explained.
“I’ve heard of them.” He rubbed his chin. “They say that Aidan O’Donnelly Sr. is a head case, don't they?”
“He is,” I confirmed before I tapped my pointer finger against my temple. “But his boys are all there.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Blade rumbled, “I’ll be sure to contact them if I come across any news about Sparrows’ activity in this area.”
I nodded. “I’m sure they’d appreciate that.”
“You alone?” Ryder demanded.
“I am.”
Blade stared at me. “That wise?”
“Nothing’s wise right now.” My mouth tightened. “I just wanna see my girl. Stick around if she wants to know me, then go the fuck home. I don’t want to cause trouble.”
“Sinners never do,” Ryder muttered.
“I really don’t fucking like you,” I snapped.
“I never asked you fucking to,” he snarled back.
“Ryder,” Blade said smoothly. “Wait for me by the hogs.”
The Enforcer’s eyes narrowed with displeasure, but he trudged over to the bikes. He could probably hear as much from there as he had from a few steps away, but he was no longer involved in the conversation—that much was clear.
“I’ll give you three days before I want to know more about why you’re really here,” Blade said calmly. “Ryder has a point. Where Sinners go, there’s always a mess to clean up.” He arched a brow. “You sure there’s no pedophile in the area who needs his throat slit?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” That wasn’t a lie.
He studied me, but I could sense he didn’t believe me. He grunted. “Three days. That’s it. And I’m being generous because you’ve got a good girl, and that dad of hers, stepdad…” He rolled his eyes. “Whatever the fuck he is, is a jackass.”
“Jeremy?” I tensed. “What’s he done?”
Blade shrugged. “He’s up to his eyes in debt with the Triads.”
“What?” I could feel my shoulders bunching. “How the fuck did he get involved with them? He’s a goddamn teacher.”
“Likes Mahjong.”
“Mahjong?” I repeated blankly.
“Think dominos but with debts that end with being kneecapped.”
Jesus Christ.
I swiped a hand over my head as a million worst-case scenarios bombarded me. “Have they threatened the family?”