Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
The door opened, the little floating hats calling out a welcome merrily. Lyric felt the difference in Keys immediately and knew Sid and a couple of his brethren had walked in.
“Answering your question, yes, this can all be happening over a woman and her man finding a way to meet her needs. Sid spotted us and is coming this way.”
She looked up as Sid, his enforcer Warren Jones, and Knox Bigolow came right up to the table. All three concentrated their entire focus on Keys. He stood, looking easy and calm, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He did wear his expressionless mask.
“I’ll take you back to Czar and the others,” he offered.
Sid held out his hand. “I hope there aren’t any hard feelings. I had no idea you were Torpedo Ink.”
Keys shook his hand. “No worries. It all came out right. I was trying to be respectful of your club while I persuaded this woman to be mine. My fault. I should have handled things differently.”
“I appreciate you taking that view,” Sid said. He turned his attention to Lyric. “Sorry about your salon burning. Town’s going to miss your expertise.”
She gave him a half smile, because really? What did one say to that? In any case, he was already turning away to follow Keys to the back room. She observed that as the three Headed for Hell club members followed her man, another Torpedo Ink member she hadn’t even noticed emerged from the shadows, watching carefully.
Fifteen
Refreshments were already on the table. Sid sat across from Czar. The fact that he’d only brought two men with him—and Warren was his most trusted man—made Keys believe that whatever Sid had to say to Czar, he didn’t want anyone to know. And did that mean he had traitors in his club?
“Thanks for taking the meeting, Czar. As I told you, this has to be confidential, whether you feel you can help or not. I thought a lot about what you said and how you and your club handled things. I’ve paid attention to the rumors about your club, and lately, there’ve been quite a few.”
Czar shrugged. “Clubs gossip. Most of it is pure bullshit.”
“In this case, I hope the things said are true.”
Sid sighed and glanced at Knox and then Warren. After looking at his own men, his gaze swept the room. Absinthe, who sat beside Sid, Reaper, Savage, Czar and Keys, regarded him impassively. Waiting. Keys had seen Czar use the silence tactic very successfully many times. He simply sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the president’s face.
Sid swept a hand through his hair. “I wanted to keep our territory and the club small. We run guns and drugs, but we’re careful about who we work with. The caves give us a tremendous number of places to stash product. We try to keep a low profile and fly under the radar. Some of the younger recruits start out thinking they can be tough and want to look badass. We shut that down as fast as possible. We don’t want attention from other clubs or from the cops.”
A couple of Headed for Hell club members had gone to the Torpedo Ink roadhouse when the band Crows Flying was playing and Seychelle was auditioning. Savage had given them a single look, and they left. On and off, a couple of the newer members had acted up, but since Sid had taken over the presidency, the club had done exactly what he told Czar he wanted—they’d stayed under the radar, fading into the background, staying to their territory and making a great deal of money.
Czar acknowledged that he was listening by inclining his head, but again, he remained silent. Sid wasn’t giving them any information they didn’t already have. There was nothing new and nothing that would raise an alarm. And Sid was in full-blown panic mode. He was good at hiding it, but they were all adept at reading people.
“This can’t get out, Czar,” Sid reiterated. “I’m taking a real chance coming here, but after what happened with Keys and Lyric, and the way they’re using my caves, I need to find a way out.” Once again, Sid looked to his two trusted men, who both nodded at him encouragingly.
Czar’s eyes flicked briefly to Absinthe, and the man inclined his head slightly, indicating to all members of Torpedo Ink that, so far, Sid was telling the truth.
“A man calling himself the head of the militia, the ones who live above us, up in the mountains, came to me. I’ve known Sean Stark for several years. He’s always run the community up there. Good man, but he was getting up there in age and it’s possible this new man, Milton Varga, took his place. It was strange that I’d never encountered him before. In any case, he had two men with him. Russians, like you. They also brought bodies with them. One was a brother. He’d been with me for years, and he’d suffered horribly before he died. The other body was his daughter. She’d been tortured, cut into pieces. They’d gang-raped her repeatedly. I know because they had video.”