The FBI was going to come looking for the prospect. They wouldn’t identify themselves as FBI, but they’d come. We’d tell them he told us he wasn’t a good fit and he was leaving town, but no hard feelings.
Squatch wouldn’t be able to sponsor anyone for at least a year, maybe longer, and he’d have to pay a huge fine. He may or may not get a beatdown. We’d have to see how the club voted.
“You were looking forward to torturing him,” Squatch said as we cleaned up.
“Yeah. It’s been a while.”
Only a few of my brothers understood it isn’t just that I don’t have a problem torturing people, it’s that I enjoy it. I need it. All we needed to do was kill him and dispose of the body so it wasn’t found, but I’d planned to torture the fuck out of him before we killed him.
Everything went back into the backpack when we finished cleaning, we drove the car back where we found it, and Squatch squeezed the cellphone in the bag until I heard it break into pieces. He opened it to be sure it wasn’t useable, and tossed it in a garbage can at the end of someone’s driveway, waiting for garbage pickup in a few hours.
I crushed my burner phone directly into a different garbage can two blocks over, and the two of us made our way into the back of the complex, through a hidden door only a few of us knew about. We separated and went to our rooms. Job done.
I was wired when I got back, so I put the huge round throw rug down, and centered the bed on it. Even without the black stuff on the bed, it didn’t look half bad. I’d get the hanger things the next day and put them up when I put new sheets on the bed. They’d need to be washed before I slept on them. I could wash the clothes I’d worn tonight while I was at it.
Instead of showering, I went upstairs and grabbed meat from the fridge, made a notation of what I’d got, went back to my room, changed to my owl, ate the meat, and slept as the owl.
The next morning was hectic. I dropped the sheets and a large bag of clothes off at the laundromat, went to buy the hangers, and then went into the office a few hours to put fires out. I doublechecked to make sure the automatic paycheck deposits had all gone through the night before, and I picked my clean sheets and clothes up from the laundromat.
I thought about running by Daffodil’s for a haircut, but decided against it. Changing had gotten rid of the bald look, but now I was scruffy. I decided that was okay.
It took two hours to get my bedroom looking like Matty wanted it. I propped a laptop up so he could see what I was doing during the final ten minutes, and he helped me decide where everything went on the hangers. When I’d put everything on, it’d looked all helter-skelter, but he had me rearrange the whole wall, and it looked right. I had no idea why, nor did I care.
“If you want this room to be about sex and kink, you’ve succeeded,” he told me when we finished.
I thanked him again, and then transferred two hundred dollars to Razor via the RTMC app and told him it was for Matty’s help. Matty hadn’t even mentioned charging me, but he’d more than earned the money, and I didn’t want to take advantage of him.
I secured Cheyenne’s helmet onto my bike, and left in time to pick her up at six.
Mad Dog said he’d have everyone there at six thirty.
Chapter Twenty-One
Cheyenne
I was a nervous wreck when I heard Frost’s motorcycle stop at the gate while he input his code. Each child now had their own individual code into the house and yard, and Frost had his. I’d changed the master code to something else random that no one could possibly guess. Frost said the Fibonacci series wasn’t secure, so I’d come up with something random but memorable for the master code.
I met him on the front porch instead of making him ring the bell.
“We have about ten minutes before we leave,” he told me, and he stepped past me and pushed the code to open the door. “I’m going to edge you before we go. You need to be horny before you get on my bike,