Divided (Unguarded #2) - Ivy Stone Page 0,74
is the guy I saw with Ali. He pulls the towel off his shoulder and slaps it down on the bar.
“Prez ain’t here, Cole,” he answers Mason and walks out from around the bar, swagger in his step with shoulders back. His chest juts out, showing off the patches on his leather cut. Misery’s Angels. Manhattan. Sargent-at-arms.
Yeah, because we can’t already tell who he is with dark chopped hair, square jaw, bright green eyes and apparently an attitude to match his old man’s. It’s like looking at Cannon, thirty years younger. Spitting image of the outlaw club president.
He eyes me up and down. “Bring your pretty boy partner today, Cole? What happened to the little blonde thing you got strutting around your precinct?”
My blood boils. I step closer without thinking, too quick for Mason to stop me. My chest out, nose to nose, my fists tightening by my side.
“Pretty boy? Seriously, that all you got, man?”
He smirks barely bothered by my presence, and I gotta admit the dude’s got balls. I’m not a small guy. Not many men have willingly taken me on unless I’ve got a gun aimed at their head or they’re trying to escape arrest.
I feel an arm on my shoulder and when I turn I see Mason, pulling me back but his eyes narrowing at this punk.
“Ace, you disrespect one of my team again and I’ll knock your ass out. Now go find your president. I’ll be waiting at the bar.”
Ace comes back with nothing, just stares Mase and I down as we wander over to the bar and pull up a chair at one end away from everyone else. A cute little bartender offers us a drink and we wait. We wait until fifteen minutes later when Cannon and his Vice President walk through the door of Black Rose.
Cannon pulls out a stool beside Mason. “Cole. What can I do for you?”
“Lucio Marino. We know you want him. What we don’t know is why?” He gets straight to the point.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Cannon. You give me what I want and we keep your youngest out of prison. Hell, you help us catch Marino and I might be able to cut a deal with your boy Diesel’s lawyer. Early parole would be nice. He might even get out in time for his daughter’s fifteenth...” he angles his head to the side, “…her fifteenth birthday is it?”
Cannon’s stool creaks as he moves in his seat. He twists the beer bottle the other bartender placed in front of him a minute ago, in his hand.
He sighs. “All right. Let’s talk. Not here, though. Come on.”
He chin lifts to the stairs that lead up to the MC’s clubhouse. I follow behind the two men because I’ve never been up there before, only Mason has. We step out into a large room with pool tables, another bar, a few lounge suites and a stage in the far corner with a stripper pole bolted in. Apart from the stench of beer, pot and pussy, the place is pretty clean. We don’t walk into the main room. Instead, we head mid-way down a hall off the stairs. Cannon sinks down into a chair behind a thick wooden desk.
Mason leans against the wall, hands in his pants pockets. “Tell me what I need to know, Cannon. What do you know that we don’t?”
Cannon clasps his hands together on the desk and while I listen, I take in the history filling the room. Old photos. New photos. They line every wall of the guy’s office. Some are mug shots. Most are family photos. Club members with their kids and wives. “Heard this morning he was seen at one of the Marino properties downtown. In and out and gone with the wind before we could get to him unfortunately. As for why we want him. It’s personal.”
Mason wastes no time. “I need to know, Cannon. Gotta know if it’s going to interfere with our case? I can’t have you killing the bastard on my watch. Even if he does deserve it.”
Cannon stays quiet for a moment. “He was seeing, Elena. My daughter. Ace’s twin sister. She didn’t know who he was at first. When she realized, she broke it off with him and he beat her. He beat her so bad he cracked three of her ribs, fractured an eye socket and marked her with bruises that lasted weeks.”
“When was this?” Mason quips as I scan the photos. A smile catches