Page 50 of Kings Have No Mercy
“No, she doesn’t,” I answer for Sydney. I toss my oily mechanic rag over my shoulder and walk around to the other side of my bike. “She’ll stay here.”
“She’ll go,” Sydney says quickly. As always, doing the opposite of what she thinks I want. I grit my teeth, but she’s already telling Velma that she can help drive if need be.
“Perfect,” Velma says. “But Tito and Cash got that covered. You can keep me company. Lord knows we need some more feminine energy around here.”
I wait ’til Sydney goes back inside the saloon to grab her purse. Rounding on Velma with a scolding look, I say, “You invited the most untrustworthy person to see Tom?”
“I said nothing aboutseeingTom. You’ve got no evidence she’s the informant, Mace. Besides, ever heard of keeping your enemies close? You should be all over the girl.”
I am. In a whole different way.
I drop the matter. I’ll be on my bike. What’s the difference if Sydney’s in the truck with the others?
Nobody will be discussing real club matters around her. Not even as we visit Tom.
We take off in the next half hour. Before the clock even hits nine in the morning.
You’d think that’d mean cooler weather, but you’d be wrong.
The sun’s already out, bright and blinding, sitting high up in the sky. It torches anything it touches, leaving almost no shade. No real escape from its heat.
I ride ahead of the truck with the sticky wet air pushing back against me. It’s one of my least favorite types of climates to ride in—the humidity makes it feel like going for a fucking swim.
We turn onto the long highway we’ll be stuck on for the next couple hours.
At different points, Cash and the others pass me up. Then I pass them up. On particularly barren parts of the highway, we drift side by side, taking two lanes to ourselves.
We stop two hours in at a gas station miles outside Portales, home to another MC known as the Road Reapers.
“This is Velma’s hometown, isn’t it? You think they’ve recovered from losing their prez?” Tito asks.
“Nate Rollins. He’s serving twenty-five years. All because somebody in the Reapers ratted him out,” Cash answers as he fills up.
I’m filling up too. I grab the nozzle from the gas dispenser and glance around the barren area. The diner next door has shut down and the businesses across the street are boarded up.
It’s been known for a while not just the Reapers are struggling, but the town of Portales too.
After Rollins was sent away to prison, nobody stepped up like they should’ve to run the Reapers. As a result, the business they brought to the tiny Texas town dried up. Both the club and the town’s been dying a slow death since.
Word is, apparently, in recent times, his nephew tried to take over as prez, but hasn’t been too successful. The Reapers have been a nonfactor when you compare them to other local MCs like us and the Hellrazors.
Tito rubs his chin. “I wonder if they can come back from this.”
“By the looks of it, if the local area is any indication, no,” Cash answers first.
Tito swears in Spanish. “Lucky for you, Mace. Keepingla familiatogether.”
I eye him half critically. “Me? You’re kidding, right?”
“Aye, you’re keeping us together as a unit, are you not? Your leadership is making the difference.” He winks and nudges me like an uncle would; he might as well be, as one of the older guys. “La vida merece ser disfrutada, I always say.”
“Wise man.” Cash throws an arm around Tito and cracks a megawatt smile that would make women throw their panties at him.
Damn pretty boy best friend of mine.
I shake my head at the two and finish filling up my bike.
Velma and Sydney emerge from the gas station convenience store clutching Icees and magazines. The giant sunglasses Velma wears disguise half her face, but her unapologetic shrug tells me all I need to know.