Page 55 of Existential

Dog takes a seat on the end of the bed, his hands hanging between his knees as he leans forward, elbows on his thighs. “He was more concerned with why you involved Dagne.”

“Shit.” What’s the bet that jealous little fucker has some vendetta against me over it. “She was neutral, man. I saw an opportunity to use somebody with no ties to the club, so I took it.”

“He was spitting tacks, dude.”

“Yeah?” I say, an urge to get to Dagne taking root deep in my gut. “So why isn’t he here then?”

“Sheriffs are watching the Fort Worth brothers close,” Dog explains. “Jessup killed your APB. Said he didn’t want you gettin’ dragged in before he finished usin’ you for himself. But the sheriffs know something’s up—they ain’t stupid.”

Of course.“If the guys roughed up Jessup, then I guess that would still be enough to leave them suspicious.” I bring my knees up, looping my arms over top and dropping my head between them. “Reinforces my guilt, doesn’t it?”

“Dude …”

I turn my head and frown at Dog. “What?”

“They didn’t just rough up the agent. Digits killed him.”