Page 16 of Maverick

“Now I do, I find I’m fascinated.”

“By fairies?” My tone was skeptical.

“Among other things, yeah.”

Oh no, I needed to shut down the flirtation. I’d become a pro at it because one simple smile could mean a black eye, a polite farewell to a cashier might mean a broken rib or two. “I’m sure you have better things to do than help me do my job, Maverick.”

His grin went impossibly wide as if he knew what I was doing and found it amusing. “None I can think of at the moment,” he finally answered. “And I’m not helping you do your job, I’m helping to clean up after lunch with my grandma.”

I could have argued with him, but it would’ve been pointless, and it was nice to see a man so willing to jump in and help. For Sophie, it was good for her to see what it was like in the real world.

At least that’s what I hoped it was like. It had been too long for me to know for sure.

Chapter 7

Maverick

“Never been so fucking tired in all my life,” Rebel grumbled as we all tumbled into the clubhouse, exhausted and angry from a day of hard labor. “Seeing Sweetie’s face all black and blue like that? I’ll set one of those motherfuckers on fire as soon as I get the chance.”

“The girls are a little worse for wear, but they’re fine,” I said, trying to keep everyone cool.

The fact was, The Black Death had busted into the whorehouse, nestled quietly in a residential neighborhood, and beat up the girls and the tricks, and destroyed the house. But that wasn’t the worst part.

Rocky scoffed. “Bro, they fucking set a car on fire out front. That wasn’t about destruction, it was about getting the cops on our asses.”

He was right, of course. It was a deliberate and calculated plan that had the desired result. Less than an hour after we showed up, so did a bunch of patrol cars from the sheriff’s office.

“That’s because they’re dumb fucks who don’t know shit about how things are done around here.”

Diesel nodded. “Cross didn’t even know The Black Death were operating in the area, and now he does, which is as good for us as it can possibly be. But he wasn’t happy about the noise.”

We all laughed at our prez’s euphemism for the total fucking shit show the early morning hours had been in that quiet neighborhood.

“Yeah, well, that noise is one of our most lucrative houses,” Hawk began. As the MC secretary, he was always thinking about the business side of things. His gaze clashed with Rebel’s in a silent conversation. “That house isn’t just out of commission for the foreseeable future.” He sighed and shook his head. “We need to sell that shit immediately. It’s burned as a brothel.”

“You and Rebel should oversee the repairs and sell it as soon as you can, hopefully for a few bucks more than we bought it for. Also, make sure the girls are taken care of until they’re able to work again,” Diesel said.

“That ain’t gonna be cheap.”

“It’ll be fine, just get it done.” Diesel had a protective streak a mile wide, and he would never leave the girls high and dry when this fight was on us.

“Hey, boys, rough day?” Tess didn’t wait for anyone to answer, simply handed out shots and icy bottles of beer. “This should help dull the senses.” With a friendly yet sympathetic smile, she sashayed back to the bar and busied herself with whatever she did when she wasn’t flirting or taking care of us.

“Where the fuck did Slate go?” Diesel looked all around the bar area for our tech captain, who had disappeared the moment we got back, frowning.

“I’m here,” Slate said as he re-entered the bar, his head buried in the black laptop that was surgically attached to his left hand. “I just wanted to check on a few fires I’ve been stoking.”

“Good. I have another fire, but I don’t want you to stoke it, I need it started, and big.”

Slate looked up with wide excited eyes. “Does this mean you’re giving me authorization to go apeshit?” He looked like a seven-year-old in a three-story candy store. “Seriously?”

Diesel nodded. “I’m tired of this bullshit, and the longer we go without striking back, the bolder they’ll become. Find me something. Anything. Quick.” He scrubbed a frustrated hand over his face.

Rocky gripped Diesel’s shoulder. “The girls are gonna be all right. Gio is looking after them, making sure they each get home safely.”

“I know, but women? These guys are worse than Robert fucking Carter.”

“They want us pissed off,” I assured him. “They want us good and pissed off so we fuck up, and that’s when they’ll make their big strike, so we can’t get emotional about this. The girls are good. Bruises heal, broken bones fuse back together, and fat lips close up eventually. No permanent harm was done, and they don’t have to worry about paying bills while they heal.”

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