Page 67 of Joker's Ghost
“Who?”
“Warrior, did he leave out the back door?”
The prospect shrugs. “I didn’t see him.”
“Maybe he went out the front.” Cobra and I head to Rattler behind the bar. “Did Warrior leave out the front door?”
Rattler shakes his head. “Nah, I didn’t see him come through here.”
Cobra and I exchange a look then head for the front door. No sign of Warrior from the prospects at the front door, so we head to the back again.
“You sure you didn’t see Warrior leave out the back door?” Cobra asks the prospect again.
“No.” He shakes his head.
“Did you see how he got here?”
“The first time I saw him was when he came in the back door, but he didn’t leave that way. I thought he was still in the church room with you and Joker.
Cobra and I exchange a look, then we go into the back lot and look around.
“What the fuck?” Cobra spreads his arms wide. “He just disappeared into thin air?”
I cock an eyebrow. “Now you don’t think I’m so crazy, huh?”
“I don’t know what the fuck to think.”
“I need a drink.”
After the meet with Warrior, I’m just as jumpy and unsettled as I was for the last two weeks. Instead of Warrior’s words giving me closure, they amped me up with more questions and doubts.
I sit at the bar with my brothers and toast to better days, but for me, it’s an empty promise. The dread still lives within me, and the worst part is, I don’t know why.
CHAPTER 22
JOKER
Three days later, I wasn’t feeling much better. I went through the motions at the garage until Gus called me out with “Get your head outta your ass.” Then I’d go home and watch Daisy and Derek handle little Dakota with ease. Even Deana entertained Dakota during her tummy time with sing-alongs fromMoanaandThe Princess and the Frog. Meanwhile, I felt like a spectator in my own family.
I’ve told myself to straighten the fuck out and get with it, but even my own brand of tough love isn’t working. My nerves are jangled, my heart’s pounding way too hard, and the only time I’d experienced any relief was sitting at the bar of The Gold Mine pounding shots and beer until I was too numb to feel anything.
“Hey, quiet down, fuckers.” Rattler points to the flatscreen TV over the bar. “Listen.”
“This is Mike Connelly, and I’m at the Great Basin National Park, where two unidentified males were found at the base of Wheeler Peak. The men are believed to be part of the Ely Shoshone reservation and members of the Northern Nevada Nomadsmotorcycle club. Foul play cannot be ruled out, but it’s unclear at this time if their deaths were accidental or premeditated. Right now, this case is under police investigation until further details are revealed.”
Rattler plays it back again, then Cobra checks his watch. “Ahead of schedule. Not bad.”
“Seems Warrior’s a man of his word after all,” Python adds.
Boa taps at his ever-present laptop for more information, but all the pieces fit together. Arrow and Blade are history, along with the fucker who terrorized my family.
“That’s what you call solid proof.” Mamba raises his beer. “Here’s to putting all the bad shit behind us.”
I raise my shot glass ‘cause that’s what my brothers expect, but I’m still a long way from numb.
Two hours later, I push off the barstool and brace my palms against the bar. “I’m heading out.”
Rattler jerks his chin at Cobra and Python. Two seconds later, they’re at my side.
