Page 81 of Jackson

Walker snorts again. “I mean, with a weapon, anyone can be dangerous. She’s a major addict and probably just losing it since his death. The club can handle her, no problem.”

“Do you know where we can find her?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’ll give you her address. If she doesn’t go down without a fight, threaten to have her house raided. She’ll back off. They were dealing even while he was in prison. She’s adecent enough dealer and user, and I have no doubt the police would be interested in what she’s doing. Could get her locked up easily.”

That’s useful information.

“I’m relieved to hear I’m in no real danger,” I exhale. “I didn’t need the drama.”

Walker grins. “Gabby is nothing to worry about.”

Thank goodness. Now we just need to deal with her, and we can put all this behind us.

“Walker,” I say, as Xander announces there’s one minute left. “Is Mama still in here?”

Walker nods. “Yeah, she is.”

“When you see her, will you tell her thank you? She really helped me.”

He smiles as he stands. “I’ll tell her.”

“Thank you. And Walker,” I call as he heads towards the door.

He looks back at me.

“See you soon.”

29 – Serenity

I'm about to enter the compound when a voice halts me.

My arms are full of groceries for a cookout. As I turn, I spot a woman by the roadside, staring at me. She's blonde, skinny, with sunken cheeks and yellowing teeth—a user, no doubt.

She doesn’t seem dangerous.

“Can I help you?” I ask, puzzled.

“Damn right, you can help me,bitch.”

The second she speaks, I recognize her. This is Gabby. God, Hound had terrible taste. Walker wasn’t lying when he said we could take her easily. She looks like I could knock her down just by breathing on her. She definitely isn’t what I expected, and it makes sense to me now why he thought it was funny when we mentioned her.

“You’ve got some nerve,” I say, setting the groceries down. “Showing up at a biker club and threatening me.”

“Think I’m scared of them?” she barks.

She’s high as a kite—I can see it in her eyes.

“You should be,” I warn.

“You should be scared of me,” she retorts.

I snort. “You’re kidding, right?”

She pulls out a knife, rusty as hell, more concerning for tetanus than anything else. She waves it at me, and I step back. It’s not her I don’t trust, it’s getting even a scratch from that rusty thing. Yuck. I don’t even want to know where she found it.

“Scared now, aren’t you?”

“No,” I counter, lifting a brow. “Nice effort, though.”

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