Page 14 of Maverick

Still, the thought of sneaking away in the dead of night toyed with my mind. I envisioned the open road, a new identity, some small town where I could vanish. But if I’d learned onething from my time as a detective and later as an outlaw, it was that your sins always catch up to you.

I took another long drag of the cigarette, coughed out a cloud of smoke. “Dirty Diana,” I muttered aloud. The name sounded like trouble waiting to happen. Some cunning woman who fucked for money and secrets. If she was blackmailing Kingpin, I almost wanted to shake her hand for having the stones. But I also knew the bastard well enough to realize he would not stop until he either owned her or destroyed her. Possibly both. And I was stuck in the middle. Perfect.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I glanced at it, expecting some message from Kingpin detailing our next move. But the number was unknown. I almost ignored it. My instincts, though, told me to check.

I picked it up, slid my thumb across the screen. A single line of text greeted me:

Heard you’re going to California. Some piece of advice, watch your back.

No name. No signature. Could be from a variety of people, an old contact, a half-friend, or some leech that wanted to stir the pot. The phone beeped again.

Sky didn’t betray you. Not in the way you think.

My eyes glued to the text, a hot wave of anger and confusion rolling over me. I knew better than to respond.

I muttered a curse, tossing the phone aside. Great. Another puzzle I didn’t need. Shedidbetray me. She went back to Getty. But the text said not in the way I thought. Was she a prisoner again? Was it all an elaborate ruse? We had rescued her, but she left again on her own. I was there. Still, my detective brain latched onto the questions, but I forced them down. I’dbeen six months and not a word. I couldn’t afford to chase ghosts. My next priority was surviving Kingpin’s mission. I’d worry about Sky if she ever gave me a reason to hope again.

When the cigarette burned down to my fingertips, I snuffed it out in the ashtray. My entire body ached, telling me to lie down. So I did, collapsing onto the lumpy mattress. I watched the flickering motel sign through the window blinds. Scenes from the fight played in my head. Scenes from my entire cursed life.

I closed my eyes. The inside of my eyelids was a red swirl of bitterness and pain. I’d get a couple hours of rest before the nightmares kicked in. But even if I didn’t, I was used to it. This was the life I’d chosen. Or possibly it had picked me.

Either way, come next week, I’d be on the road to Anarchy, California, searching for a woman named Dirty Diana. Guarding her, fucking her over, or saving her, whatever Kingpin decided “handling” meant. The only certain thing was that trouble would follow me like a shadow. And I’d do what I always did, face it with clenched fists, a bitter heart, and an empty soul.

I woke up sometime later to a throb in my skull and the stench of stale cigarette smoke. The TV was still droning on about some paid programming for kitchen knives. My side ached like I’d been trampled by a stampede of bulls. But for once, my mind felt sharp, free of illusions.

I hauled myself off the bed, ignoring the dryness in my throat. In the dingy bathroom, I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water over my face. It stung the cuts and bruises, but at least it cleared my head a bit. I rummaged in my bag for a first-aid kit. Dabbing disinfectant on the cuts made me hiss, but it was better than letting them fester. My phone was silent. Nomessages from Kingpin or the unknown number. Just me in this shithole of a motel room.

Kingpin thought he could control me. Perhaps he was correct. But I’d play his game just long enough to slip the noose around someone else’s neck. If Dirty Diana was the key, I’d find out. When I rolled into Anarchy, California, I’d do what I had to.

I didn’t give a shit about love or loyalty or any of that garbage anymore. I had an MC cut on my back and a bitter heart in my chest. And if the devil wanted me to ride with him, I’d ride. Just so I could burn him when the time was right.

Chapter 9

I cruised into Anarchy, California, just as the sun dipped low, the sky ablaze with amazing colors. Didn’t mean shit to me except that it was getting late. The day had been hot as hell, and the wind biting at my face as I roared down the highway didn’t cool me off nearly enough. My Harley rumbled beneath me, a familiar promise of speed and power.

I’d been on the road for days. Not that I reallywantedto. Kingpin had made it clear I was on babysitting duty, and I was never good at playing babysitter. Sure as shit never wanted to play it to some older broad who’d messed with the wrong criminals. But I was in deep with Kingpin. He had me by the balls, and if he said “fetch,” I had to fetch. Being stuck as a puppet for that bastard wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured my life, but I’d had plenty of illusions beaten out of me already.

As I neared the edge of the rally, I could hear the thunder of bikes and the blare of rock music. The place was a goddamn zoo. Tents and tarps lined up on a dusty field, bonfires going, random crowds shouting and laughing. Engines revved, women giggled, men hollered. It was everything you’d expect from a massive biker event, drugs, booze, fights waiting to happen. It might’ve been my scene once, back when I still got some kick out of chaos. Now, it felt like just another job.

I found a spot to park among a sea of motorcycles. Some engines still humming around me gave the impression I wasstepping into a hornet’s nest. Perfect for a guy like me, someone who’d be gone before dawn, if I had any goddamn luck.

I took a quick walk around, letting my gaze slide over the scene. Men in leather, sporting cuts from different MCs, the Kings of Anarchy, a few from Royal Bastards, random independents. Women tottered around in heels, some in fishnets, some wearing practically nothing at all, tits out for the world to see. Usually, that’d make my day, but I tried to stay focused. Vendors hawked cheap beer, questionable meat off a grill, and T-shirts with slogans likeLive Fast, Die Last.

Kingpin’s intel told me Dirty Diana was already set up here. She was supposedly the queen of gossip, a woman who sold secrets or traded them like currency. On the trip here, if I wasn’t riding, I was digging, questioning my contacts.

Half the men in the biker underground had warmed her bed, or so the rumors went. Except, from what I’d heard, she was pushing mid-fifties and no spring chicken. Not exactly top of my personal to-do list. But Kingpin wanted me up close, and said she had blackmail potential. Or she was being blackmailed, one of the two. He needed to know if she’d talk to the wrong ears. So, yeah. Lucky me.

I spotted her near a bonfire, nursing a beer and laughing raucously with a cluster of old dudes that looked like they’d stepped right out of 1978. She stood out because she had dark dyed hair, too much makeup, and clothes meant for a woman half her age and size. She wasn’t as big as some had hinted, but she had a roundness to her. Looked older than her years, too. Life had not been kind to her. Neither had her own choices, if I had to guess.

Time to play nice. I plastered on my best charming grin. The one I used to bust out when I was an undercover cop, back ina life that felt like it belonged to someone else and strolled up to the fire. “Hey, sweetheart,” I said, letting my gaze flick over her in a way that usually works wonders on lonely women. “You look like you could use some company.”

She blinked at me, eyes bloodshot, lips cracked from the heat of the flames and probably too many cigs. “Company?” She dragged out the word, a little uncertain.

I gave a slow shrug, letting the patches on my vest catch her attention.Road Monsters MC.She’d know that name carried some weight, even if it wasn’t as flashy as the local clubs. “Yeah, or maybe you want me to fuck off?” I teased, playing the line between confidence and arrogance.

She stared a moment longer, then a big grin split her face. “Shit, honey. Don’t you know old Dirty Diana never says no to a handsome face?”

I tried not to cringe. Jesus.This is your life now, Maverick,I told myself.Deal with it.

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