Page 71 of Rio's Release

With that, I slip off the stool and head upstairs. I find a t-shirt, then peer into the bathroom, see there’s a stack of towels, and decide to grab a quick shower.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

When and Where

Rio—

“Let’s go to my office.” I finish my beer and Zig follows me down the hall, beer in hand.

While I settle behind my desk, Zig takes one of the chairs on the other side.

“You and the boys make that trip to El Paso?” I ask.

“Yep. Had a nice little pow-wow with that club we talked about. They call themselves the Desert Dogs. They’re small time, but hell, let me tell you they were eager to talk to us. I think if you make the invitation; they’ll jump at the chance to be a Saint’s Outlaw.”

“They the kind of men you’d want at your back?” I ask the only question that really matters.

“They’re all ex-military. Young, and looking for something more than what their club has to offer. We did some target practice, and let me tell you those boys were good. I think they’ll do.”

“But will you trust them with your life?”

“Let me put it this way, I didn’t see any deceitfulness in their eyes. But, hell, we may not know for sure until they’re here with us. They don’t work out, they’re gone, way I see it.”

I consider his words. “I’ll need time to think about it. I don’t want to rush into anything, but circumstances with the DKs may force my hand.”

“I get that.”

I steeple my hands and press my forehead against them, closing my eyes.

He tilts his head, studying my posture, and frowns. “Something wrong, Prez?”

“Yeah,” I mutter, and look at my VP, dragging my palms down my face. “Something Shelby confessed to me.”

He polishes off the remains of his bottle. “And?”

I stare him square in the eye. “This does not leave this room, understand?”

“Absolutely.”

Dragging in a deep breath, I tell him. “One night Shelby was stopped by that goddamn Carson.”

“Carson?”

“The deputy,” I clarify, and see an inkling of understanding dawning in Zig’s eyes.

“Christ. What the hell did he do?”

“He took her to a secluded spot and assaulted her.”

“By assaulted, you mean…?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Jesus, Rio. When was this?”

“Right before she stopped writing to me. Right before she completely cut off all contact with me the third year I was in prison.”

Zig lights a cigarette, watching me. “I can tell from your posture you’ve already decided, so what are we going to do about it?”

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