culture, was how good it felt to know there was always someone who had your back.
15
Razor and Kayleigh had been in the “safe house” Titan had taken them to for over an hour. His nerves were shot, his patience about to snap, and he was so restless he couldn’t sit still. Kayleigh just sat on the couch and stared out the window although he’d told her to get some rest. He was about to leave on his own, even though having no idea which direction to go, before there was finally a knock on the door. Titan was outside watching the front, so Razor didn’t even ask who it was. He did have his gun in his hand when he pulled the door open, however. Some guy that looked like Steve Irwin on steroids looked him over, letting his green eyes land on the gun in Razor’s hand for several seconds and finally said, “My turn with the kid is over until tomorrow night. If you want to shoot me, do it then, okay?”
“Hunter?”
“Yep.” Hunter wasn’t wearing a leather vest. Instead he was wearing one made from khaki-type material and it had pockets all over the front of it, like a fishing vest or something. His hat was what made him look like Irwin, or maybe it was Crocodile Dundee…either way, it looked like he should be making his way Down Under instead of riding across the city of Boston on a Harley. Even his boots weren’t standard black MC boots like everyone Razor knew wore. They were cowboy boots, made from some sort of reptile it looked like. Razor stepped back and let the man in. Hunter was still looking him over as he tucked the gun back into his jeans.
“You all make ’em big out there in the swamps, don’t ya?”
Razor smiled to be polite, but he wasn’t in a joking mood. Seeming to sense that, Hunter sobered up quickly and said, “The Vipers don’t have your sister.”
“Who does?” That was Kayleigh, who had gotten to her feet when Hunter came in.
“This is Kayleigh Bonner,” Razor said. “How do you know they don’t have her?”
“We talked to Wild Bill. He told us that Miss Bonner has something of his he wants back, but he’s not looking to hurt her.”
“And you believed him?”
Hunter shrugged. “I wasn’t the one who spoke to him, but I can promise you that if he did have designs on killing her, he doesn’t anymore.”
“Why?” Kayleigh asked. “Why would he change his mind?”
“Well, Bobby’s not dead for one thing. Blackheart pointed the way to the rat he has in his club for another. Sounds like they’re in shit up to their necks with the street gangs in Baton Rouge, thanks to that guy.” He was talking about Schindler; Blackheart must have gotten through to them after all. “The Jokers are headed out here to help you, but on the way, they’ve got a quick meet with Wild Bill. Blackheart wants to talk to him face to face…but your president, and mine, don’t believe this mess out here is Vipers. Their club is mean, they’re hardasses, but they’re small and they’re fighting another war already right now. They’re not stupid enough to get into it with the Jokers…and lie to the president of the Southside Skulls, who could wipe them out in the blink of an eye and be back in Boston in time for supper.”
Razor nodded. What Hunter was saying made sense. “Shit…Bandit,” he said. He’d been so wrapped up in Kayleigh’s problems with the Vipers that he hadn’t thought about Bandit for a day or two.
Hunter was nodding. “You’ve got a beef with Andett.”
Andett was Brett Andett, or B. Andett, or Bandit for short. With a sigh Razor said, “Yeah. I was messing with his old lady and he killed her. He’s trying to set me up for it, but Blackheart said he doesn’t think the police are buying it.”
“So, maybe old Bandit is looking for another way out? Maybe he’s been the one following you?”
“Fuck,” Razor said, “that’s worse than the fucking Vipers having her.” He took his phone out and scrolled through his contacts.
“Who are you calling?”
“Bandit. If that fucker has my sister, he won’t be afraid to admit it. He’s a cocky son of a bitch and he’s just waiting for me to call since he has no way to reach out to me.” Hunter walked over to the couch while Razor listened to the phone ring on the other end.