Page 218 of Smooth Sailing

Di shifted enough to reach into his back pocket and get his phone after the call had ended.

“Dutch,” she said in his ear.

“Show it my face, then call him,” he ordered, reminding himself to give her his passcode later.

She activated his phone, pointed it at his face, and kept hold with one arm around him as he took off when the light went green.

He heard her shouted conversation with Dutch, so he already guessed what was coming before she ended the call and said loudly in his ear, “He wants you at the crash pad as soon as you can get there. He says I can come too.”

Hugger changed lanes.

Something else to be said about Phoenix, a city that was built nearly entirely on a grid system with numbered avenues (west) and streets (east) with a central road dividing the two called Central made learning the way around super fucking easy.

Twenty minutes later, he rolled up the driveway behind several other bikes, and he felt his eyes narrow on them because it wasn’t just Dutch, Jagger and Coe’s bikes and Big Petey’s trike, and one or two of them should be on Armitage, Eight and Muzzle’s bikes were there, and parked at the curb was one of the NI&S SUVs, a flashy truck, and a sleek Jaguar.

Diana swung off, he came off after her and stopped when he caught her look.

“What?” he asked.

“This is a crash pad?” she asked back, tossing her arm to the long ranch house on the side of a hill that had a fantastic view of the Valley. It also had four bedrooms, four and a half baths, a swimming pool with a waterfall into a Jacuzzi and an air hockey table.

“Resurrection owns some dispensaries in Denver,” he explained. “They got cake.”

She just stared at him.

So he continued, “And Ride’s got shops and garages all over Colorado. They do good trade, even better now after the millennials and Gen Z decided it was important to shop local. And our custom builds sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

“So as well as playing bodyguards and part-time vigilantes, you’re all biker entrepreneurs,” she noted.

He slung an arm around her shoulders again and muttered, “Something like that.”

He led her inside and immediately saw all the players.

Yes, Eight and Muzz were back. Also there were Mace and Cap Jackson, another member of the NI&S team, and Sylvie and Tucker Creed, two local PIs with ties to Denver seeing as Sylvie used to work for Knight Sebring, an ally of Chaos. And last, a woman he met at their only other Phoenix meeting, a meeting that all of these folks drifted in and out of, providing information and advice, which was why that meet had lasted so long.

She was called Sixx. She was gorgeous, he had no idea what her occupation was, but whatever it was, it was badass, and if he were anybody else other than him, she’d scare the shit out of him.

He didn’t get the chance to introduce his woman to the new people, because Diana cried, “Oh my God! Guys!” and dashed straight to Muzzle.

She gave him a big hug, and Muzz, being part asshole, held her close and gave her a visible squeeze at the same time he gave Hugger a smirk.

Fucker.

Hugger just crossed his arms on his chest and watched.

Di moved to Eight, and Eight didn’t bust his balls, but he did give her a tight hug.

When she popped away from Eight, she asked, “What are you guys doing back?”

“That’s what we gotta talk about,” Eight said.

This commenced Di getting intros to Cap, Sylvie, Tucker and Sixx.

After that, Mace said to her, “Hang with the guys for a few while we steal your man?”

Di, not stupid in the slightest, Hugger already knew had figured shit with the Babics had or was coming to a head.

But she didn’t argue as Jagger approached and said, “Your choice. Beer or air hockey.”

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