Page 37 of Panther's Magpie
I grab her arm, pulling her into my side as I keep her steady. I don’t remove my arm as we continue to walk back toward the clubhouse.
“Sure,” I tell her.
“How did you end up here?” she asks.
I laugh. It’s a common question. One I don’t normally answer, but I don’t see why I shouldn’t answer her.
“Do you remember much of me and my friends when you were a kid?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“Well, Eagle and I have been tight for a long time. We had a few other buddies, and we would ride our bicycles around town. Eagle, being a dumbass, saw a motorcycle outside one of the shops and sat on it, asking me to take a picture. It was the president’s bike. The guy came out, grabbing Eagle by the arm. The rest of our buddies bailed, but I snuck around the back and pounced on the guy. We scuffled before he had us both pinned to the wall. He asked what kind of crazy kids would do something like this. When we admitted we weren’t kids and that we were only admiring his bike, he relented. Said I moved like a panther. He hadn’t even seen me. Then he told Eagle he had talons like an eagle. He said we could prospect for his club if we wanted. He admitted they did dangerous and illegal shit, but it was a family. He said our coward friends weren’t invited, though. So we went and never looked back.”
She grabs my arm a little tighter as she climbs over a fallen tree.
“So that’s where your name comes from?” she asks.
I nod. “The president will take suggestions, but he is the only one who ultimately decides your name.”
“That’s kind of cool,” she admits.
“You think Panther is a cool name?” I tease.
“I mean, Calloway is a good name too, but Panther makes you seem fierce. Deadly.”
I swallow at her admission. Hearing her call me Calloway does something to me. I only let Aspen use my given name, but I find myself liking when Maggie does too.
“You can call me Calloway if you prefer,” I tack on. “Since you knew me before all this.”
She shrugs. “I know you as Panther now. I wouldn’t want to slip up and make the guys think any less of me by calling you the wrong name.”
I want to insist she call me Calloway, but I don’t.
I let the subject drop as the clubhouse comes into view.
Once inside, she turns to me. “Thanks for the walk.”
I nod as she walks away.
Heading into church, I see all my men already there and waiting. I shut the door behind me before I take my spot at the head of the table.
“What do we have?” I ask.
“I heard back from our contacts. I got a couple leads on where they might be keeping her, but Meek said he hasn’t seen any activity there, so it’s likely a dead end,” Eagle tells me.
“I still can’t find shit on the bartender. I have even tried to grab a picture of the dude as he leaves the bar, but he is always hiding his face. It’s fishy as hell. It’s like he knows we are looking for him. Even with the sketch, I’m coming up empty,” Meek admits.
“He might. We did send Maggie back in there. Maybe he caught wind that she is working with us?” Talon asks.
“That is likely since the club also knows Aspen means something to us. I tried to play it down like she’s just some club girl we want back on principle, but I doubt they bought it,” I tell them.
“There is more. They hit our garage downtown,” Hawk informs us.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“How bad?” Eagle asks.
“A few thousand in damage. They left this behind.” He pulls out a photo and pushes it down the table for each guy to look at.
