Page 17 of Maverick

Murder and Kingpin turned back to me, but I raised a hand. “If we’re done, I gotta get back to Diana. Don’t want her running off or opening that big mouth.”

Murder shrugged, lifting his whiskey. Kingpin waved me off, bored, his eyes already drifting to the phone on the table.

I stepped out of the RV, relief washing through me as I breathed the night air. Something about being so close to Kingpin for more than a few minutes made my skin crawl. I liked to pretend I was free, even though I wasn’t, not really.

I started cutting back through the tents, heading in Diana’s direction, when I heard the pulsing beat of music from a corner. A ring of people had gathered, watching something. Curious, I coasted over.

In the center, a short, lithe red head wearing shimmering booty shorts and a cropped top was dancing with several large, color-changing hula hoops. Her skill was mesmerizing, spinning them around her waist, arms, and neck in a rapid, hypnotic swirl. The flickering lights made patterns in the dark. With a whoop and a holler, the men cheered. The women clapped.

When the music ended, the woman, took a playful bow. She had a wild grin, blue eyes dazzling with mischief. I found myself oddly captivated. She looked up, and our gazes locked. Without warning, she beckoned me closer with a flick of her finger.

Like pulled by a string, I moved forward. She looped her arms around my waist, pressing her body close. “You look like trouble,” she said, her tiny voice high and sickeningly sweet. “I’m a big fan of trouble.”

I smirked. “Then you’re in luck. I’m Trouble.”

“Hoops,” she purred, lifting a slender hand in a wave. Then she traced a fingertip along my shirt collar, noting the patches and that my name wasn’t Trouble. In this crowd it could’ve been.

“Trouble is my middle name,” I quipped.

“You also look like big dick. I’m a big big fan.”

I cleared my throat. “Last name, Big Dick.”

She licked her lips. “Maverick Trouble Big Dick of the Road Monsters MC, huh? New in town?”

“Just passing through,” I replied watching her tongue.

She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear, making my dick spring to life. “Come find me at my tent tonight, Mr. Big Dick. I’m over there by the red banner.” She pointed to a distant bright flag swaying on a pole. “I got a bottle of tequila with your full name on it.”

My grin widened. “I’ll see what I can do.”

And just like that, Hoops disappeared into the crowd, her hips swaying, leaving me with a renewed appreciation for the night’s possibilities.Maybe this trip isn’t all shit,I thought, continuing my trek to check on Diana.

I was trudging around the rally grounds to find Diana when I saw a familiar face leaning against a battered truck. I’d glimpsed him the other night, but we weren’t able to catch up.

“Smoke,” I called.

He turned, and a huge grin split his face. “Well, I’ll be damned. Hallow, or should I say Maverick?” He grabbed me in a rough, friendly embrace. Smoke was from Charleston, a Royal Bastards brother from my first club. He’d always been laid back, the type to share a joint and a laugh more than start a fight.

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Good to see you, brother. Didn’t know you’d be here.”

He punched at my arm. “The Charleston guys wanted to scope out the rally, see what the Kings of Anarchy had to offer. A big patch-over might be in the works.”

I inclined my head, not surprised since hearing it from Kingpin. “How’s life in the hills?”

Smoke grinned big. “Got engaged, actually. We got a baby on the way.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Never thought I’d settle down, but here I am.”

I gave a genuine smile, ignoring the pang of envy in my gut. “Good for you, brother. Proud of you.”

He nodded, glancing around. “So, I hear you’re stuck with Dirty Diana. She cornered me earlier this morning, asked if I had any weed. Then told me some crazy story about a mob boss wanting her dead.” He snorted. “That woman lives in her own reality, I swear.”

I rubbed my beard. “She told me the same. Says it’s some guy named Grinder. Put a hit out on her and her daughter.”

Smoke folded his arms. “Half the time, she makes shit up. Think the old girl’s senile. But who knows, she’s been tangled up with shady crowds before.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, the old detective itch present at the back of my mind. I needed to figure out if she was lying or not. “Well, watch your back. If there’s truth to it, we might have trouble.”

Smoke nodded. “Sure thing. But we’re heading home soon. Good luck to you.”

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