Page 136 of American Hellhound
She snorted.
“You know, my sister makes them…”
“Jesus,” Ghost whispered to Walsh.
“…and if you wanted, I could get you some. Big hoops like you’ve got, lots of colors. They’d look smoking hot on you.”
She finished with her glasses, put her hands on her hips, and fixed them all with a look. “Alright, what do you guys want?”
Roman’s smile dimmed as he realized his ladykiller routine hadn’t gotten him anywhere.
Ghost cut right to the chase. “You seen anybody in here wearing a Dark Saints cut?”
She nodded, gaze becoming suspicious. “Yeah. Why?”
“They drink in here a lot?”
“Most nights.Why?”
Ghost pulled the cocaine brick out of his cut and slapped it down on the bar. Her eyes went wide. “Give this to Badger. Tell him Ghost said ‘nice try.’”
“But…” she spluttered.
“Tell him.” He headed for the door and left the guys to follow.
Out on the sidewalk, the rain was still coming down in buckets and they ducked under the porn shop’s awning a moment.
Walsh said, “You know Badger’s gonna come running straight back to the clubhouse when he gets that.”
“He’ll try,” Ghost said. “I want guys stationed at the gates ‘round the clock – none of his crew gets in or out. We lock Dartmoor up tight as a drum at night.”
“Some people can still get in, though,” Walsh said, throwing a dirty look at Roman.
He held up his hands. “Hey, that was Reese. I ain’t never met another human who could do what he does.”
Ghost frowned. “Speaking of.” A quick check of his phone showed a text from Aidan. “They got him, said they’re gonna meet us back at the clubhouse.”
Roman looked a little wide-eyed.
“What?”
“Nothing, just…don’t say I didn’t warn you when you meet him.”
When the rain showed no signs of letting up, they put on their goggles and headed back to Dartmoor at a crawl, soaked to the bone by the time they pulled up in front of the clubhouse. Ghost’s boxers and socks were wet – they squelched when he walked – and he comforted himself with the knowledge that Roman was similarly miserable.
By contrast, the clubhouse was warm and dry, and blessedly clean. Tango had an armful of towels that he passed out.
“Thanks,” Ghost said, meaning it, scrubbing it through his hair. He needed a hot shower in the worst way, but first…
“Oh,” he said, when he pulled the towel down and spotted the kid sitting cross-legged on the floor. “That him?”
“Yeah,” Aidan said, biting back a smile. “Tell him all about your new pet, Merc.”
Mercy sighed, long and deep. He was, Ghost realized, standing right behind the boy on the floor. “Boss, this is Reese,” he said, pointing unnecessarily. “He, um…”
“And according to him, Mercy’s the boss,” Aidan said with a laugh.
“Dude,” Tango said, scowling, and Aidan’s face fell.
