Page 9 of Panther's Magpie
I blow out a breath when the bedroom door shuts behind him. Hesitantly, I walk over to the bed and lie down. As soon as my head hits the pillow, the tears start to fall.
God, Aspen, please, please be okay.
PANTHER
“Are you okay?” Meek asks.
When I glare at him, he raises his hands.
“Okay, stupid question. I know you’re not. I just meant, are you ready to talk about this?”
“Tell me what you know about them,” I say, blowing out a deep breath.
“Ragged Anarchy was created back in ’95. They are currently under their third president since their inception.”
“That’s…”
Meek nods. “Unusual, yeah. Their presidents have a nasty habit of ending up dead. The current president is the grandson of the founder.”
“What else?”
“They are not the club you want to tangle with, that’s for fucking sure. There’s no proof, but there are rumors that they are mixed up in illegal gambling and cleaning money for the cartel.”
“Jesus Christ,” I hiss as I rub my hands over my face.
You really fucking stepped in it this time, Aspen, didn’t you?
She and Maggie.
For a split second, guilt hits me for the way I spoke to Maggie. I’ve known her almost as long as I’ve known Aspen. Well, that’s not true. I only met her a few times, but I didn’t know they were still in contact. She was the good girl who only found herself in trouble if my sister led her to it.
She left her, though. Just fucking left her.
I shake my head.
“Not the skin game?” I ask as my stomach rolls with dread.
Meek winces. “Not that I know of, but they honestly could be with the company they keep.”
“Do they have any weak links? Any ideas where they could have her?”
“After your call, I doubt they will have her at the clubhouse. It would be too obvious. I’m running through the list of known members and checking property records. So far I know of tenproperties we might need to hit. It will take time, though,” he warns.
“And weak links?”
He looks at his computer. “Everyone who is a patched-in member seems to be loyal. None of the guys are married either, so we can’t prod an old lady for shit. The bar, though, might be our best option. Some of the employees aren’t club affiliated.”
“Maggie said a bartender helped her escape. He tried to warn them,” I remind him.
Meek nods. “We might be able to use that to our advantage.”
“I fucking hope so.”
Guilt and worry eat away at me. If I hadn’t been pushing her away, Aspen would have kept her ass in California where she was safe, but because I was putting space between us, she acted out.
If you can even call trying to come home acting out.
It’s as much my fault as it is Maggie’s that she stepped into the bar tonight. I unknowingly led her right into the arms of a monster. Quite literally.
