“That’s your new rule?”
“Yep, that’s how I’m living my life from now on.” She frowns. “Are you at home? I thought you’d be living at the clubhouse this week.”
Birdie flew to Sydney five days ago to spend the week before Christmas with her mum, and I arrived home from Brisbane last night. I’ve got a shipment coming in from Torres to receive, and I need to take care of some other club business here. And since we’re not having any luck locating Bourne in Brisbane, handling stuff here at least makes me feel useful. I spent the morning at the clubhouse, and left there just after 2:00 p.m. to come home and do the mowing. I want to tidy up the yard so it’s not a jungle when we get home after Christmas.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m about to do the mowing.”
“Oh, shit,” she says. “I forgot to tell you that Maddox does the mowing now.”
I arch my brows. “Because?”
“Because he needs the cash so he can take his girlfriend out on dates. They’ve just started seeing each other, and I really want to help him out. You should see how happy he is because of her.”
Birdie’s eyes have lit up like I haven’t seen them light up in too fucking long. Christ, did I miss the moment they first lit up again while I’ve been knee-fucking-deep in club shit? She’s been telling me about her time with Maddox, but I’m not sure I’ve been paying proper attention.
“Okay, so when’s he coming to do it? And do I need to pay him?”
“I’ve already paid him. He should be by this weekend.”
“You pay him in advance.” It’s not a question, and not even a statement. It’s more an I-should-have-known observation, because that’s my wife: always looking out for others when they’re in need.
She smiles and bites her lip. “Well, actually, I’ve paid him a few times in advance. He really needed some new boots.”
Fuck, I love her. Birdie’s the kindest, most giving person I know.
“So,” she says, “I know you said you can only stay two nights here for Christmas, but I was wondering if you could push that to three?”
“No. I can’t.” I’ve tried to make that happen, but there’s no way I can swing it.
I can tell by the way the light filters out of eyes that I’ve disappointed her. “I understand.”
The sound of another call coming in draws my attention. When I see Torres’s number on the screen, I say to Birdie, “Sorry, angel, but I have a call I need to take. I’ll call you back.”
“No, don’t. We’re about to leave to go see a movie. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Okay. Have a good time.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
When Birdie ends the call, I flick across to answer Javier’s call.
“Torres. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until tomorrow.”
“Something’s come up. We need to meet today.”
Every instinct I have is suddenly on high alert. “What’s going on?”
“I have some information for you. Are you free now? I can meet you at the usual spot in half an hour.”
“I’ll be there.”
The phone goes dead and I stare at it. What the fuck is going on?
Torres is already there when I arrive. He exits his Bentley as I walk to him.
Pulling my sunglasses off, I say, “I’m intrigued as to what information you have for me.” In the seven years we’ve worked together, he’s not once called me for this kind of meeting.
He pulls his dark glasses off, too, and I’m struck by the serious expression on his face. “It’s the kind of information that may save your club.”
Fuck.
Now I’m all fucking ears.
“Go on.”
“I had a meeting with Silver Hell this morning. They want to do business with the cartel.”
“What kind of business?”
His eyes bore into me. “They want the cartel to switch all our business with you to them.”
Motherfuckers.
“And?”
“You and I have built a strong relationship. A loyal one. That’s not something I take lightly. I said no.”
“I appreciate that, Javier. And I feel the same way.”
“That’s not all, though. They had someone else with them. A man by the name of Bourne. He’s the leader of—”
“Zenith.” My mind connects dots it’s been frantically trying to connect for a long time. “Silver Hell is financing them.”
“Yes.” He pauses. “They’re both determined to wipe King off the map. And while I’m not a fan of King’s, I refuse to see you and your club go down.” He hands me a folder. “This is all the information you need to deal with this once and for all.”
I flick the folder open and skim over the information inside. “How the fuck did you get all this?” It’s everything about Bourne and his location in Brisbane. Both fucking locations, which means we finally have the second one we’ve been searching for over the last couple of weeks.
“You recall all the information the cartel required from you before we agreed to meet that first time? This is what they had to give me to arrange a face-to-face.”
I hold the folder up. “This won’t ever be forgotten, Javier.”
“Let’s hope I never have to call the favour in,” he says before sliding his glasses back into place. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow about the delivery.”
He gets back in his Bentley and leaves while I pull out my phone and call King.
“Yeah?” he answers.
“I just met with Torres and he gave me Bourne’s information, including his location. He also told me Silver Hell is financing Zenith.”
“Fucking hell,” King says as he exhales.
“I’m heading back to the clubhouse now. You still there?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. We’re gonna make a plan to wipe all these motherfuckers out.”
I’ll fly to Sydney tomorrow afternoon and spend Christmas with Birdie’s family, and then I’ll leave Boxing Day to put our plan into place. Soon, this shit will all be over.
38
Birdie
* * *
“Birdie, have you heard a word I’ve said to you?” Mum asks early Christmas morning while I stand in her kitchen staring at the kettle waiting for it to boil. She’s been prattling on about her latest dating adventure, and while I did start out paying attention, my thoughts drifted off when she got to the bit about the guy still working in the same job for the same company for the past thirty-five years. I mean, who does that?
“Yes, I’m listening,” I lie.
She plants her hands on her hips and gives me her “you’re lying” look. “You were not.”
I stare back at her trying to win this little detour in conversation, but I know it’s pointless. “Seriously, how is he not bored out of his brain still doing the same job for all these decades?”
“Seriously, why are you focussing on that rather than the fact he wants me to wear leather, strap on a collar, and submit to whatever he tells me to do?”