Page 102 of The Wild Charge

“Our sort?” Evan asked.

“Hired killers.” To Tenny, he said, “When the waitress comes by, do your American accent.”

“I know that,” Tenny snapped, but when Billie appeared, as if summoned, he dredged up a smile and a perfect drawl with which to order coffee and a greasy burger and fries.

Reese ordered a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich.

“None of you got waffles?” Evan asked when Billie was gone. “It’s Waffle House.”

“Protein provides better nutrition,” Reese said.

“Yeah, asshole,” Tenny said. “Mind your goddamn nutrition.”

Fox clinked his fork against his plate to regain their attention. “Anyone show up at the clubhouse yet?” he asked, tone purposefully light. He didn’t think anyone was listening in, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

“Just that cop who’s got a hard-on for Ghost,” Tenny said dismissively, looking back out the window.

“Lieutenant Fielding,” Reese explained. To Tenny, he said, “I didn’t get the impression he wants to have sex with Ghost.”

Tenny sighed, and slumped down to lean an elbow on the table, temple propped on his fist. “It’s a figure of speech, you stupid tit,” he murmured, without any heat.

“Oh.” Reese reached over and attempted to smooth Tenny’s rumpled hair for him. Tenny allowed it a moment, and then batted him away. Reese withdrew easily.

It was the most intimacy they’d ever displayed in front of him, and Fox felt like an interloper. A sideways glance at Evan proved he was slack-jawed, until he caught Fox’s dark look and pulled himself together.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, so, what’s the deal with that Fielding guy?”

“Keep your voice down.”

Softer: “He’s a cop, but he’s on our side? I never really got the whole story there.”

If Fox were the sort of person who felt sorry for others, he might have spared a thought for poor Evan, who they’d brought in and set to scrubbing toilets and never really bothered to walk through club lore. He hadn’t done so, at least. He’d hoped that Mercy would take him in-hand, just as he’d done with Reese, but Mercy had played Big Dog for Carter, and then Reese, and maybe three ducklings was one too many.

Maybe, he reflected with a touch of horror, everyone had thought it washisplace, seeing as Evan was an assassin of sorts – though a bumbling one.

He fortified himself with a big bite of hashbrowns and a long swallow of coffee. “Fielding’s always been a bit – lenient with the Dogs. He’s an annoying sod, but he’s smart enough to know that the Dogs do their part in keeping the city stable. Also: Ghost caught him in a compromising position and more or less owns him, now. If Ghost went running to the press, forget losing his badge, he’d be in prison.”

“Ah,” Evan said, calm, but his eyes widened.

How a sniper was still so naïve about the way of the world, Fox would never know.

Billie arrived with the boys’ food, and it was silent save eating for a while. For all that Tenny still looked half-dead, he tucked into his burger with determination: not enthusiasm, but an operative’s resolve to refuel his body.

He checked the time on his phone. “We’ll give them a few hours,” he decided.

Which meant he had a few hours to decide if he wanted to tell Ghost about the note in his pocket.

~*~

Fielding was in uniform, so when Maddox knocked and stepped into Ghost’s office, his gaze went right to Vince seated in the chair across from Ghost’s desk, and his face paled. “Shit.”

“Shut the door and sit down,” Ghost said. “We don’t have long.”

He hesitated a beat, though, expression stricken.

He was dressed in jeans and boots and a ratty flannel shirt, and his face wasn’t so remarkable that Vince would have remembered it even if he’d seen him before, which he hadn’t.

“Sit the fuck down,” Ghost barked, and Maddox dropped down into the chair beside Fielding.

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