Page 32 of Property of Rio

“That sounds favorable,” I muse out loud. “I mean, I don’t give that first fuck that they know it was the Kings who killed their man, but if we can hold off on starting any wars right now, that’d be good.”

He barks out a laugh. “We’ll keep an eye on things from this end. Got a prospect who’s close to patching in that’s getting his final test, Brother. He’ll stay around, without his colors, and act like he’s interested in their club. We have a nondescript bike and he’s going to have his sister, who’s a hairdresser, put in those extensions just in case they’ve ever seen him around the Kings. She’s coloring it as well, and he’s wearing colored contact lenses.”

“Fuck, Rip, you don’t think that’s too much?” I question.

“Not at all. We know these assholes are slime on the bottom of a slug’s belly, so who’s to say they don’t know each and every member of our somewhat local clubs, including our prospects? This way, we’ll hopefully get more inside information as well. Not particularly happy that they have meth houses all around. There are fucking kids in those neighborhoods, Rio!”

“I know, Rip. But some of our chapters run drugs. What makes us different from them?” I query.

“Because any of our houses, where product is stored or even manufactured are on property that isn’t close to subdivisions and shit,” he retorts.

“Makes sense. Did you get the transfer from Pokey?”

“Yeah, the brothers will be happy with their envelopes, that’s for damn sure,” he replies.

“Good to know. So, we have a plan in place to watch the Devils. Thinking when we run the next rodeo here would be a good time to do Gage’s formal memorial, since he loved bull riding.”

“Saw something that might work for that. What if some of his ashes were put on the back of one of the bulls and it was allowed to buck and run through the pen? The fucker was always more comfortable on the back of a bull or a horse than a bike, even though he could ride.”

“If he had been willing, he’d have been a brother, Rip,” I remind him.

“Yeah, I know. Oh, I heard rumbles about his mother. Seems they’re going to sell her, although from what is also known, she’s no better than a junkie whore anyhow, so I don’t imagine she’ll survive very long.”

“Good riddance to bad rubbish as far as I’m concerned. She made Gage’s life hell and obviously, selling her daughter wasn’t much better,” I say.

“Later, Brother. Gotta hit the hay,” Rip states before disconnecting.

I check the doors to make sure everything’s locked up tight, set the alarm, then head back upstairs to Issy. There’ll be time enough later to dissect everything that Riptide shared with me.

“Wakey, wakey, it’s time for eggs and bakey,” Issy sing songs, which means I wake up grinning at her silly rhyme and mercurial laughter.

“Hungry again?” I ask.

“Rafe, it’s nearly eleven o’clock in the morning,” she states, harrumphing.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I question, bolting upright. Ineversleep that late. Hell, even as early in the morning as we finally fell asleep, I’ve done that before and still got up at the break of dawn.

“Not one bit,” she rebuts. “Daylight’s burning as Paps used to tell us, and I was going to work with Starlight today after I run Stargazer through the barrels a few times.” The excitement blazing in her eyes at spending quality time in the ring with her girls has me grinning.

“I’ll head to the barn with you, just give me a few minutes,” I tell her, swinging my legs off the bed so I can head into the bathroom and take a piss.

I see her start making the bed and shake my head because she’s always been tidy in that way. Once I run through my morning routine, which is far less involved than Issy’s, I slip on clean clothes, grab my cut and slide the buttery smooth leather over my shoulders then hold out my hand for her to take.

“Constance already has some breakfast sandwiches prepared and ready for us to consume,” she confides in a conspiratorial whisper as we walk down the stairs causing me to chuckle at her cajoling antics. “Along with travel coffee mugs.”

Thank God, I think, because I’m definitely going to need the caffeine intake in order to function.

“She’s a saint,” I mumble. Issy just grins because she knows I don’t always wake up fully functional, especially if I’m startled awake from a deep sleep. I don’t give her any shit about it, though, because apparently, I was far more tired than I realized. Either that, or I expended a lot of energy with our mattress activities.

“Thanks, Constance,” she says as we walk into the kitchen and see our stuff neatly packed in a bag.

“I’ll have Luis run lunch down later,” Constance replies, informing us of her intentions. “That way, you won’t have to stop what you’re doing with the horses. It won’t be too long from now, either, but I feel confident y’all will have no problem eating it.” The gleam in her eye lets me know that the gossip mill is still alive and well on the ranch.

Sighing, I tip my chin in her direction then grab the bag while Issy takes our travel mugs so we can head to the barn. She giggles as we start down the path and I ask, “What has you in such a good mood this morning?”

As if I don’t know, seeing as I’m also in one myself. Who knew a solid night with your woman making love, with sporadic naps thrown in between, would fill me with so many endorphins I’d be happy? Yeah, not me, that’s for sure.

She quirks her brow at me and sasses, “Probably something to do with you and me doing the horizontal mambo most of the evening and into the late-night hours, or should I say early morning hours?”

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