Page 32 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

“Why aren’t you happy? Is Owen the dad?”

“I’m gonna punch your front teeth out,” Owen grunts. “Get me a beer and some of that weed. This is fucking serious.”

White men convinced the whole world they’re run by reason and logic when the truth is, they’re highly emotional and can’t even take my simplest jokes.Whatever.

“Sure, come on in. I would love to have two mountain goats ruin my perfect evening and waste my weed.”

Wyatt glares at me while I roll up for Owen, even if I got them both beer. (I don’t want either of them eyeing the venison in my fridge and asking for a cut). I don’t know why he’s always so mad at me.

“What? You look pissed. I didn’t do anything,” I say when I finish rolling the joint for Owen.

“You’re keeping secrets. Someone is keeping secrets.”

“Deacon has a problem with women. I was serious about my suggestion.”

“Ethan is not trafficking women,” Wyatt snarls. “He would never do that and I don’t know what the fuck the Hollingsworth boys do in secret, but… it doesn’t seem right. I could find that out easily.”

“I counted his money the other day,” Owen says. “That Seneca girl told me Deacon has secret transactions with you, and she thought the Ethan situation could be connected to that.”

They mean Deacon’s sex trafficking. Men might call it something else, but he buys women and takes them to some type of BDSM dungeon, paying them well enough that most of them never return, but they also never talk about it again. I’m glad Keyshawn took her money and ran off to Chicago.

I miss her but… I know she’s safe over there. Straight women are highly susceptible to falling in love with men that are downright dangerous. I warned Keyshawn to take her money and disappear, even if it hurts to have fewer friends at The Fire Spot and the other places I work in the area.

“I can’t talk about my transactions with Deacon.”

“You would if I put a gun to your head,” Wyatt mutters idly, continuing his menacing glare while he drinks the beer from my fridge.

“Then put a gun to my head,” I reply calmly, sliding the finished joint across the table to Owen, who lights it up in my house without asking. I make a mental note to pickpocket him the next time I see him drunk.

“Don’t fucking tempt me,” Wyatt says.

Owen steps in as peacemaker. “Look. We’re just saying… If Ethan is involved in anything crazy, we want to know. He disappeared to Boston and we have families. We can’t just fuck off to Boston.”

“He has a gambling problem,” I remind them. “Maybe he’s gambling.”

“No,” Wyatt says, rolling his set of green dice over the tops of his hands. “I would know the signs.”

“If it makes you feel better, I have never done any joint business with Ethan and Deacon. I handle a private matter for Deacon, which he pays me very well for, but it has nothing to do with the club.”

“But it’s a secret.”

“Isn’t your sex life a secret?” I ask Wyatt.

Owen laughs. “Not to his neighbors, I’m guessing.”

Wyatt glares at Owen for a change, not like his brother cares.Those boys are too dumb sometimes, and I’m beginning to suspect that even if he stumbled in here like a drunken bear, Wyatt actually wants my help. He wants me to think of something.

“Why don’t you send a spy out to watch Ethan?” she says. “Find a club member you can trust who has nothing better to do.”

“Like you?” Wyatt says.

“Women can’t be club members.”

Especially not Indian women, but I don’t want to get into a heated discussion with these boys.

“I’ll watch Deacon,” I suggest. “Owen says he was counting money, which means Deacon was out of town. He hasn’t requested my personal services for… two weekends.”

“Are you fucking him?” Wyatt asks.

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