Silver Bastard

Boonie nodded. The boy pulled out an envelope and tossed it to me. I opened it, flipping through a very nice wad of cash. A quick mental tally confirmed the amount, and I gave my president a nod. He opened the saddlebag and pulled out one of those cloth grocery bags, all rolled tight around a hard ball of what I knew were handguns.

The kid took them.

“Want to check them over?” Boonie asked. The kid shook his head, flashing a grin at us.

“Your reputation is good,” he said. “We respect that. Otherwise we wouldn’t be looking to work with you more. Send me a message when you’ve made your decision.”

“And if we want to talk to your boss?”

He shrugged.

“That’s trickier. Electronic tether up at the campus, for one thing. And it’s not our way to expose him. We’ll see.”

That struck me as off, but I held my tongue. Had to trust that Boonie knew what he was doing, save my questions for church. You don’t undermine a brother in front of outsiders. No fucking way.

The kid took the guns and put them into the trunk of a very sporty little BMW convertible that’d been parked in the shadows on the side of the building. It had “princess” written all over it, and I sincerely hoped it belonged to his girlfriend.

Then he turned back to us.

“Looking forward to doing more business,” he said, holding out his hand to me. Interesting. His shake was firm and strong. “I’m Rourke Malloy.”

“Puck.”

He nodded, clearly committing me to memory, then walked away, his body casual confidence. I glanced at Boonie.

“We done?”

“Yup,” he replied. “Let’s get Deep and head back to the clubhouse. We’ll go over everything at church tomorrow. You want to go back inside, maybe say good night to your girlfriend?”

The question annoyed me, because I’d planned on doing something very much like that. Not saying good night—of course not. But I’d figured I’d check her out at least one more time, maybe make sure she was doing okay.

Now I couldn’t, and Boonie knew it.

Christ I needed a smoke. Couldn’t have one of those, either.

“I hate you.”

“Stop being a little bitch and take care of business,” he said, laughing. “Claim her or get over it.”

Fuck, I wished it was that easy.

BECCA

“Hold up, I’ll walk you out,” Blake said. “Just have to grab something out of the back room first.”

I pulled out a chair and collapsed, because my feet were killing me. I appreciated the fact that he didn’t want us girls wandering around a dark parking lot at three a.m. on our own, but standing and waiting for him simply wasn’t an option.

“So how did you do?” Danielle asked, grabbing the seat next to me. “I made out better than I expected—not half bad for a first night. Says something good about the place. Of course that table of little fuckwads stiffed me on the tip, but no surprise there. I knew they would, from the minute they came in. Think they’re the shit, don’t they?”

I shrugged, because she wasn’t really expecting an answer.

“You ladies ready?” Blake asked.

“Yeah,” I said. He laughed and reached out to catch our hands, dragging us to our feet.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I muttered.

“Nope,” he replied, his voice disgustingly fresh and smug. “Endless energy. Be afraid.”

“I live in fear.”

Danielle giggled and popped up on her toes to kiss him. When he tried to catch her and kiss her back, she ducked around and jumped on his back without warning.

“Jesus!” Blake muttered, staggering, but he looked happy. Joe had been right—Blake was into Danielle for real. Shit. I hoped she didn’t destroy him . . .

“Take me to my car,” she announced, bouncing up and down. “If you’re a good boy, you’ll get a reward.”

He started toward the door and I followed, feeling like the third wheel. Usually that wasn’t a problem with these two, but it was late and obviously Blake wanted her at home and in his bed. The fact that I needed a ride complicated that, seeing as it took her in the wrong direction.

“I’m sorry my car’s not here,” I told her.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said as we passed through the back door, locking it behind us. Teresa was still in her office but she had an apartment upstairs so we didn’t need to wait around for her. Blake trotted down the steps, me trailing behind like a puppy. We were halfway across the lot when I saw someone move in the darkness.

“Shit,” I hissed. “There’s someone back here.”

“If you’re a murderer, you can back the fuck off!” Danielle shouted. “I have a gun and Blake killed someone with his bare hands once, asshole!”

Blake stopped cold.

“What the hell?”

“It’s all about creating an atmosphere of fear,” Danielle said confidently. “We’ll just scare him off. It’s probably just some dumbass kid having fun with us.”

He—whoever he was—wasn’t exactly radiating fear. I guessed this from the way he started walking toward us, each step crunching the gravel. I felt like there should be menacing music in the background. Maybe the lone call of a loon . . . Blake lowered Danielle and took on that menacing aura he’d had during the fight yesterday morning.