Page 26 of Wildcard's Wager

I nod. “I don’t hold a grudge against him. Probably would have made the same mistake if I was in his shoes. I mean, I’d hope I would be smart enough to discover the truth before I started shooting, but prison fucks with you.”

“It does.”

“Have you ordered his kutte?”

“Yep, placed the order right after Splint took him to the infirmary. We talked for a few minutes while the brand heated. Talked about his future with the club. We discussed a few jobs he could do. Nothing too taxing. But he mentioned cooking for us. Turns out he learned how to cook inside. Served with a former chef who took a cleaver to his sous chef when he screwed up an order. Viper said she ate beef stew at his cabin. She thinks he’ll do a good job. So I’m putting him in charge of the kitchen. Need to come up with a new road name. If he can cook, we can call him Chef or Cook.”

I chuckle. “That works. I’m glad he’s staying. He was a great brother. I think he needs the family.”

“I think so, too. Plus, we owe him. You and I didn’t put him in prison, but Squiggy did.”

“Speaking of prison. Hear anything from Havoc yet?”

“He has some men going into her house tonight. They wanted to wait until dark. They’ll check to see if the cops searched the place. I’m guessing they did. Havoc’s men probably won’t find anything, but it’s worth a look. He met with his contact and confirmed that Brigit is their only suspect. However, Wired has access to the hotel’s server. He’s looking through the footage. Might get something to give to the cops.”

“That’s good. Could you ask Havoc to check on Brigit’s neighbor? I think her name is Abby. Brigit mentioned stopping to see her before leaving town. She was babysitting Colt. Abbylives next door. I know she’s worried about her place, but she’s probably worried about her friend, too.”

“They’ll get the details.” Puma picks up the phone and calls Havoc. Once he’s on the line, Puma puts it on speaker.

I explain about Abby and ask them to check into her, see if she’s okay.

“We went through Brigit’s house already. My contact got us in. Someone searched the place before the cops. Left a mess. I’ve seen it. They ripped up cushions and destroyed her clothes. They even trashed the kid’s room. Fucking assholes. I don’t know if they found anything to lead them to you. However, my guys found something of interest.”

“What?” Puma and I ask.

“Hidden cameras. Four of them. One in the kitchen, one in the living room, one in her bedroom, and the last in her bathroom. Someone was watching her.”

“Fuck!” I spin and pace away, working to control my temper. The thought of someone spying on her, seeing her naked in the shower or sleeping, makes me want to puke. Or kill someone. Yeah, killing someone would make me feel better.

“Are you going to tell her?” Puma asks me.

“Fuck, man, I don’t know. I guess I should, but that’s going to fuck with her head. She’s already been through too much.”

“It can wait for a few days,” Puma suggests, and I nod. Yeah, it can wait.

“Anything else?” I ask.

“Not on my end. Hopefully, we’ll have more tomorrow. I have a couple of guys checking out the hotel. Doubt they’ll find anything, but thought we’d see if Misha shows up. One’s chatting up a bartender while the other is working a maid. Figured they might get some dirt on Mike or George. I’ll send someone to check on the neighbor tomorrow.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: BRIGIT

I glare at my father, silently daring him to convince me I’m being unreasonable. The brand under the bandage is all the evidence needed.

“You gave me that look when I explained why we couldn’t have pizza for dinner every night.” He chuckles. My lips twitch at the memory. At seven, I was certain pizza was the perfect food and couldn’t understand why my father wouldn’t agree.

“Dad…” I start, but he holds up his hand to stop me.

“I know this seems like overkill to you. That they didn’t need to take such a drastic measure, but I’m telling you they did. I could have killed Wildcard. I meant to. Not when I pulled the trigger, but when I pulled out my gun and took aim. At the last minute, I saw the man I trusted seven years ago, and the doubt came flooding in. That’s the only reason he isn’t dead. Knowing how close I came to killing him makes me ill.”

“I get that, Dad, I do. But you didn’t kill him.”

“I shot him. His wound is much worse than this one,” he says, gesturing toward the bandage. “This is superficial. I’ll live and it will be a constant reminder to think before I act.”

“I still don’t like it,” I grumble.

He chuckles.

“It’s not funny. I think I made a mistake coming to the club for help. Have I put Colt in danger by bringing him here?”

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