You just take care of you. You’re wanted for questioning now, Ashlynn.”
I nod, even though I know he can’t see. “I figured as much. I’ll be careful. Thank you, Devon. If you… If you hear anything, will you let me know?”
“Yeah, sure. Look, I’m pretty sure they’re gonna pull my phone records. Maybe they can’t trace that phone you bought, but if they can figure out where the call that I received came from, in regards to what cell tower it pinged off, they might get a location on you. Maybe not pinpoint it, but they might get some kind of radius.”
“Oh, God.”
“You better not call again, Ashlynn.”
“Okay.” My voice cracks. “Take care of yourself, Devon.”
“You, too, babe.”
We disconnect, and I stare at the wall.
I want to stay alive, but I feel so badly for that grieving family that has no idea where their loved one is or what happened to him. Thomas was such a sweet old man. The group with Axle looked like possibly Thomas’s wife, now his widow, though she has no idea of that yet. Some were probably his children and some his grandchildren.
Guilt swallows me, and I can’t breathe. I should have gone straight to the police. I should have come forward. At minimum I should come forward now and tell what I know, and give Thomas’s grieving family some peace. It’s the right thing to do, I know it is, but I’m so afraid of the Rialto brothers, and I don’t want to die.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rusty—
From my seat at the bar I glance around the clubhouse. Not a whole lot of brothers stuck around after church tonight. The meeting didn’t last too long, and I don’t blame ‘em for taking off. It’s a good night for riding—the perfect temperature.
Pool balls clack together and draw my attention. Jammer and Bandit loiter around watching Quick make a shot.
Reno strolls over to me, and I lift my bottle to the prospect behind the bar, signaling to get me another one.
He pulls a cold one from the ice, twists the top and sets it before me. “Need anything else, Prez?”
I shake my head as Reno takes the stool next to me.
“VP, what can I get you?” the prospect asks.
“Whiskey.” Reno turns to me.
“How’s Butterfly? Why didn’t you take off to go be with your new bride?” I ask.
“Now that her morning sickness is finally over, she’s doing a spa night at a friend’s house.”
I nod. “Good of you to let the girl up for air now and then.”
He grins. “I’m a nice guy that way.”
I chuckle. “Right.”
“So, how’s you’re new little hottie?”
“You mean Hot Rod? And by the way, thanks for that. I think it’ll stick.”
“You’re welcome.”
My eyes stray to the pool table again, and Reno twists to look over his shoulder. “What do you think of Quick? Were we right to give him another shot?” I ask.
Reno continues studying the man. “Hard tellin’ yet. So far, so good. I really want to know if he’s gonna have our backs when shit hits the fan.”
“Well, hopefully that won’t be happening anytime soon. Things with the Evil Dead are good now that we have that alliance made. Death Heads have been staying out of our fucking business and keeping to the other side of the Florida border. So all’s well for the moment.”
Reno huffs out a silent laugh. “Unfortunately, you and I have been around long enough to know those moments never last.”
I take a hit off my beer, and he knocks back a shot, then asks, “You driven that sweet ride of your girl’s yet?”
I grin. “Yep. That thing corners like it’s on rails. Fucking amazing.”
He chuckles. “You get a hard-on drivin’ it?”
“Almost. No fucking lie, it’s sweet.”
“Take your word for it.”
“You’ll have to because Hot Rod’s never gonna let you drive it.”
“That comin’ from you or her?”
“Both.”
“You suck the fun out of everything.”
“I’m president. That’s my job now.”
He rolls his eyes. “Speakin’ of that patch you’re wearin’, heard from Leroy. You remember him?”
“Yeah. Been in Rutledge, what now, ten years?”
“Yep. Guess who his new cellblock mate is?”
“You’re shittin’ me.”
“Nope. Ol’ prez.”
“Thought he was goin’ to Walker State Prison in Rock Springs.”
Reno shrugs. “Maybe they’re overcrowded. All I know is that’s what Leroy said. Any word from the old man? He try and contact you?”
“Not since before he was transferred. I talked to him on the phone and told him about Rat. Let him know we killed the son-of-a-bitch, but that wasn’t any consolation for the decades he’ll do