Page 18 of Biker's Tribute: Property of Bear

“There has to be something I can do.”

“Stay away from here and stay out of trouble. I’ll have my people on it, but there’s only so much we can do once outside forces get involved.”

After I hang up the call with Darragh, I call Magnum Sinclair, who sounds like he's in a casino, even if they're a few hours behind.

"How long do you need the place for?" he asks.

"I don't know. Might have fucked up real bad in Boston."

"As long as you didn't kill anybody," he responds, laughing his ass off until he realizes that I'm not laughing.

Magnum clears his throat. "How long? How many people?"

"Me. Mom... And a friend."

He laughs again. "You don't have any friends outside of club business, Ethan."

"Are you going to help or not?"

Magnum owes me. I helped him take care of a massive problem he had a few years before dad died and he has more property than he knows what to do with. The dickhead always liked Monopoly as a kid -- and nobody really likes Monopoly -- and he liked it enough that he made it real life.

"Property isn't cheap in New York, Ethan."

"It's sitting empty right now," I answer gruffly. "Jeez, Magnum. Do you have to be such a dick?"

"Fine," he says. "Give me your Super Bowl picks and I'll get you a two bedroom... Midtown."

"I don't care what part of town it's in, as long as we can lay low for a while."

I hear suspicious, soft footsteps on the other side of the door. Amanda... My foot taps erratically on the carpet again. She disobeyed, but I need confirmation from Magnum before I swing the door open and handle that.

"Avoiding homicide might help you lay low a little better," he suggests.

Magnum is such a dick. He's worse than the rest of us, because he doesn't think he's a dick. He sees himself as a businessman who totally transcended the dirtier parts of club business.

"I was in a sticky situation."

"What? Like your idiot brother? Kidnapping some ridiculously thick woman of another ethnicity?"

"It's not that."

"Super Bowl picks."

"It's going to be Steelers, Cowboys."

"You are so full of shit. Did you see how Mahomes handed their asses to them last game? Pittsburgh over the Chiefs?"

"Yes. But I have insider information from the Pittsburgh maf... Listen. You asked for my picks, Magnum. Those are my picks."

It's bad enough he has my mind on gambling right now. I need him off my back. Thankfully, my impatient tone works. (It normally does.)

"Okay," he says. "I'll put five grand on that, a little extra to hedge my bets and you'd better be right."

"I'm right."

"I'm sending the information over. Tell Deb I say hi."

I grunt and hang up. Those footsteps back to the bed sound extremely obvious. She must not realize how good my hearing is -- either that or I truly have become a paranoid fuck.

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