Page 45 of His Road Dog

Chapter 18

Priest

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NICOLE MOANED, TURNINGher head against the pillow. Priest patted her ass. She'd sprawled out in bed after he'd gotten up to answer the phone.

"Hey." He rubbed her back. "Nicole. Wake up."

"Mm."

He ran his fingers down her side. "I'm taking off."

"Mm."

He'd let her continue sleeping if he knew she'd stay in bed until he got back. But he had no idea how long he'd be gone. He wouldn't want her to worry when she woke up and found herself alone in the house.

"Nicole." He turned her to her side. "I'll be back later."

She moaned and pulled the pillow under her head, curling into a ball on the bed.

"Nicole?" He waited, finding himself smiling at how difficult she was to wake up. "Good talk, babe," he whispered.

Smoothing her hair off her face, he straightened and walked out of the bedroom. She was out for the count. He'd leave her a note.

He jotted a short explanation on a piece of paper in the kitchen and left it on the counter. Going outside, he locked the door behind him.

Rick sat on his Harley in the driveway, waiting for him. Priest clasped his MC brother's hand.

"Nicole's sleeping and won't know you're out here." Priest moved over to his motorcycle. "I'll be back when I finish. If it takes longer than I think it will don't let Nicole leave."

Rick lit a cigarette. "Got it, Prez."

Priest stopped. Despite Rick being married with a family, he wanted to make sure his MC brother followed his orders. It was one thing for the men to use the women at the clubhouse, and another to take what belonged to him. Nicole deserved to sleep in peace, and if anyone was going to bring her pleasure, it was him.

"Don't go in the house. Give her that," he said.

"I hear you." Rick saluted him.

He dipped his chin, started the engine, and rode away from the house. Thirty minutes ago, Curley and Roddy had captured Coveck's two workers and taken them to Steel Mechanics with the help of Paco and Slick, a first-year patch holder, who'd arrived with a car to transport the two men.

Once he arrived, he'd need to keep the noise down in the residential area. Nelson, the owner of the business, was in prison. The building remained empty, except when Tarkio needed a member to stay in the upstairs of the garage. Luckily, the neighbors were used to bikers arriving periodically to check things out and usually turned a blind eye to activity inside.

Arriving at almost four o'clock in the morning, he coasted into the parking lot and shut off the engine. He went straight to the door and let himself in. The downstairs of the business consisted of open bays with a pit in two of them with a full hydraulic jack.

His men congregated in the first bay. Two men, tied together, back to back, sat on the hard, concrete floor. He recognized them by their mugshots.

By the overhead garage door, Slick held a rag to his face.

Catching Curley's gaze, he said, "What happened to him?"

"Hamilton tried to escape when we took him out of the car. Slick stopped him with his face." Curley handed over a suppressor. "I thought you might need this."

Priest took the pistol out of his pocket and screwed on the added piece. The building echoed without any vehicles inside, and from the past, he knew that muffling gunfire was enough to keep the neighbors in the vicinity unaware. That wasn't the case when Nelson got framed for killing his old man and sent to prison. Tarkio had no chance of helping Nelson because the little girl and her mother, who lived behind the garage, had called the police after hearing gunshots.

Walking over to the desk at the back of the room, he dragged a chair to the two men. He straddled the seat backward and rested his forearms on the backrest, letting the pistol hang from his right hand.

"We're going to talk, and before we start, I want you to know that neither one of you are going to open your fucking mouth unless I ask a question." He nodded at Curley. "If you don't answer, you'll wish that you had. It's simple. I ask. You answer. By the time the sun comes up, we all can start a new day."

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