Page 12 of The Devil's Scars

“No. I’m leavin’ town. Take care now.”

Without another word, Wolf spun and left the room. He had the courtesy to shut the door so she could struggle back in to her minute panties and tiny skirt with some privacy, but his mind was already up in Fort Collins, at the Warriors MC clubhouse. He needed to have a face-to-face with their Prez and now… no waiting on this one.

He cursed again, pulled out his cell, pushed the button for Scars’ phone. He waited impatiently, and the second he heard his VP’s voice, he launched right in.

“Yeah, man. I just talked to Mace up in Fort Collins. We got a problem.”

Scars put down his burger. “I’m listening.”

“Dawson and his boys were up there last night, tryin’ to pull the Warriors into some of their shady deals for Jensen.”

“What the fuck?” Scars said. “Mace’s guys don’t do anything dirty. They never have. Dawson knows that.”

“I know. But Mace said there was pressure.”

“What kind?”

“Not so subtle. Dawson said that Jensen would, quote, ’very much appreciate the Warriors’ cooperation’, and their decision to not cooperate would be ‘very disappointing’. End quote.”

“Damn.”

“Uh-huh.”

“They worried?”

“Hell, yeah, they’re worried. I gotta go up there now and talk to them. They want to know just who the hell Dawson and his guys are, and nobody knows better than us.”

“Yeah, of course. You want me to come with you?”

“Naw, I got this. You finish up with the suppliers, and come on back to Denver.”

“Sure.” Scars closed his eyes, pissed off all over again at Dawson. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. I hired Zee.”

“You what?” Scars sat up straight in the restaurant booth.

“Yeah. She starts part-time on Monday.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. You’ll meet her tomorrow night, at the party. Keep an eye on her for me, huh?”

“You won’t be back by then?”

“I don’t think so, or if I am, it’ll be late. I’ll drop by the clubhouse if things are still goin’ on, though, fill you in right away in person.”

“OK.”

“Thanks, man. And really… watch Zee, alright?”

Something in his President’s tone caught Scars’ attention. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No.” Wolf kicked the bar door open, headed over to his motorcycle. “She just doesn’t know anyone except me, and she may feel a bit overwhelmed. Make sure she’s OK at the bar, and make sure she gets home safe.”

“I will.”

“Thanks, man.” Wolf straddled his motorcycle and sighed. “I gotta go home and pack a bag, and then I’m out of here.”

“Call if you need backup. I can be there in two hours.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow night, I hope.”

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