Colt (Devil's Nightmare MC #10) - Lena Bourne Page 0,47

guy taking up the rear is vaguely familiar, but I don’t know from where. I’d like to just focus on him, because he exudes the kind of calm I’m in dire need of right now, but the black-haired, black-eyed man leading them just draws all my focus. He’s tall, built, and walks with the gait of a man used to leading. I don’t even have to read the patch above his left breast to know he’s their president.

Colt greets them and introduces me. I’m not ready for that black gaze of the president to fall on me quite so piercingly. It kinda shoots straight through me, and I instantly know there’ll be no lying to this man. He’ll know I’m lying if I try. I had vague plans to figure out what he wants to know, and then tell him that whether it’s true or not, but there will be none of that with this guy, and I know I better not try to deceive him at all.

“So, you’ve been with the Sinners for six months,” he says. “Did you get to know them at all?”

I swallow hard, my tongue sticking to the dried up roof of my mouth.

“I served them drinks,” I manage to stammer. “And I did my best to keeps them all at a distance. They hated me for stealing that money from them, and I figured it’d be safest to hate them back.”

He nods, almost like he understands.

“So I don’t know how much I can tell you about them,” I continue honestly. It’s not hard being honest with this guy. It’s because he seems to understand. But how safe is he?

“You were pretty close to Piston, weren’t you?” Ace asks. “Stormi told me.”

I almost ask him how she’s doing, but manage to stop myself just in time.

“I did try to get close to him, yes, but he was…or rather, what I’m trying to say, he wasn’t exactly a ladies’ man, so my charms didn’t work on me. He was like an awkward teenager in a man’s body, if you know what I mean.”

I bet none of these men do. I bet they weren’t awkward around women even when they were teenagers, and I doubt any of them remember that time at all, even if they were.

“Yeah, I got the same vibe from him,” Ace says.

“He mostly complained about the Knights, which I think is their rival MC, needing to be taught a lesson, especially after the night Ace saved them from an attack by the Knights and some other club—Devils something. I don’t really know.”

The president narrows his eyes in an annoyed way, which I take to mean that he knows all this already. I’m being totally useless to him, I can tell. But where does that leave me?

“Here’s the thing,” he says. “We know they were snitching to the feds, at least Griff and his sons were. And possibly some of his execs. It doesn’t matter, because they’re all gone now.”

That hits me like a fist to the stomach. They’re all dead? I can’t say I’ll miss any of them, but dead is so final.

“Griff was a mean old bastard, and everyone kinda feared him and worked really hard not to annoy him,” I blurt out. “He was known for having men killed if they displeased him, so everyone tried to keep him happy at all times. I never heard anything about them talking to the cops, but then again, I wouldn’t have, now would I? That kinda thing is forbidden. Isn’t it? It’s why they’re dead, isn’t it?”

I’m just rambling and I stop myself, because I know I’m just doing it to appear like I have information to give. It’s not working if the president’s narrowed eyes are anything to go by.

“What I was getting at is that one of the Sinners is still snitching to the cops,” he says. “Do you have any idea who? Was there someone particularly close to Griff?”

“There was the execs, Tiny and Coins and Spy. They were always together,” I say, but Cross is shaking his head ever so slightly.

“The sons, Piston and Horse,” I continue. “Mouse and Brick usually watched their backs, but Mouse is dead now. And Crow, he was a scary guy that I’m pretty sure did most of the quiet killing for the club. But he’s dead now too.”

I’m coming up empty, I don’t even need to see the persistent shaking his head.

“Maybe Snake,” I finally say. “He was an old-timer about Griff’s age.