Page 67 of Biker Daddy

Chapter Fifteen

Drew

The bar was packed and Drew wanted to turn around and leave but he had to face Trevor, and he needed to talk to the Grinders when they showed up and this was where they’d come first. Steven and Daniel were with Addi, and the media were still camped out and chomping at the bit for answers, so he knew she was safe. Daniel was a bit on the small side, but Steven was built and both seemed protective of Addi, so he had no concerns about leaving her for a short time.

His true worry was the Grinders anyway and the media would stop them for now. As long as Addi stayed put, she would be fine. The back way was well hidden and unless someone walked the perimeter, which was a quarter of a kilometer from the road and in the thick of the forest, they’d never find the back entrance.

Television crews from all the major stations were standing vigil at the entrance of the camp, in the parking lot of Last Resort, and even at Nora’s Diner. At least they were getting some extra business from it. Seeing a few bikers at the bar wouldn’t alert anyone, unless they wore the Skull Grinders patch and not even Dingo was dumb enough to do that.

A wave to Trevor got him a nod and he knew the second his friend had a minute, Drew would get his usual. He wouldn’t snub Drew over gossip. Trevor didn’t believe unsubstantiated rumors.

Drew looked around. The bar was filled with strangers in leather and some regular sorts—most likely reporters. They nursed their beers and glanced awkwardly around. One of the bikers, someone he’d never seen before, was blatantly staring at him. Drew assessed the big blond man and he looked away to pick up his drink. Curiosity perhaps, Drew decided. Maybe he was a cameraman. He looked hardened and ready for anything though, so if he was a camera man he’d seen some bad shit.

Of course, Layla was having fun wiggling her fringe-skirted ass around enticing the leather-clad men and this time she had a friend with her. Trevor looked annoyed as he glanced at Layla and Drew couldn’t blame him. First, Layla was trying to encourage two of his drinking customers to go home with her and her friend and second, he was pretty sure Trevor’d had enough of her crap.

Trevor grunted, threw a napkin down, and set a drink roughly in front of Drew on a beer coaster.

“Sorry about earlier, but Addi’s a real lady and I needed to know she’d be okay.”

“I know. Thanks for looking out for her.”

“You do what they’re saying?” Trevor questioned, eyeing Layla. Drew spun his glass, watching the dark liquid slosh around the glass.

“It’s complicated. According to the law I did it because I confessed and my prints were the only ones at the scene.” Trevor’s eyes widened slightly and Drew shrugged. “Truth though?”

Trevor nodded.

“I was just the lookout and I was a kid.” Drew shoved the glass back. “How about something that won’t burn a hole in my gut?”

“It’s about time, my friend.” Trevor smiled widely. It looked odd on him. The man wasn’t a smiler. He turned and grabbed some top-shelf whiskey and poured Drew another glass, dumping the other one down the sink with a sneer. When he looked up, his good mood suddenly soured. Drew turned to see Layla sitting in some guy’s lap.

“Woman trouble?”

He swore and fisted his goatee before grabbing the bottle off the counter and pouring himself a liberal shot. He threw it back and gave an appreciative sound. “That woman is gonna put a hole in my gut.”

“She needs to be straightened out, Trevor, and I’m not sure there’s a man alive with the patience.” Drew took a swig from his glass. Trevor crossed his arms and continued to watch, pouring himself another shot and added more to Drew’s glass.

“It’s been on again, off again for seven years, Fitz, and still that woman gets under my skin.”

“You know I didn’t know that when I…” He stopped talking when Trevor gave one sharp nod, still staring at the blonde and her friend.

“I know.”

There was some ruckus in the bar to their left and Trevor went to deal with it. Drew swallowed the rest of his drink with a grunt, ignoring the stool that was pulled out beside him. One casual glance to his right had his chest tightening though.

The biker Layla had been flirting with had a devil tatt on his neck. Mauler—patched that for his love of lying on top of his victims and covering their noses and mouths with his hand until he felt them go limp. Sometimes just until they passed out, but more often until they were dead.

The news had only broken around noon and Mauler was already in town. Drew rose silently, while the beefy biker had his back to Drew. Pulling his sketch pencil out of his jacket pocket, he grabbed a napkin.

“Hey, babe, what’re you drinking again?” Layla looked up at Mauler, but as soon as she saw Drew her smile faltered.

“Hello, Fitzie. See all the new friends I’m making since you kicked me out of your bed.” Her eyes darted quickly to Trevor and Drew shook his head. All along she’d been using him to passive-aggressively torment her ex. Mauler glanced over his shoulder dismissively and was turning his attention back on Layla when he took a double take.

“Reaper?”

Drew was already at the door. The only thing left in his spot was his empty glass, a twenty dollar bill, and the napkin with his cell number on it.

“Hey, hold up,” Mauler called just as Drew reached for the door. “Dingo, I think that’s him, the fucking prodigal son! Layla, that your man?”

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