Page 45 of The Vows We Keep
“According to Vex, she has a different home address and a job at a bar. Don’t know if anyone else is.”
“Does he have security cameras?”
“Not sure but unlikely.” Niro grins. “Why don’t we leave our bikes here and go do some reconnaissance?”
I leave the extra-large leather jacket on my bike and rely on my smaller one. We walk through the woods behind the man’s house. I was out on the guy when I heard his wife had filed for four restraining orders. “What else do you know about him?”
Branches crack beneath our feet, but it doesn’t matter; the property is still out of sight. “Former cop, relieved of duty over something that was sealed in his file.”
I raise my eyebrow. “We all know what that means. Probably shot some innocent Black kid and called it fear for his life.”
“Vex, our Black brother, is singled out by cops every time they get up in our business.”
“Yeah, well, life in any marginalized group is a journey. I’ve had all kinds of slurs thrown at me, but being Black in this country is a whole other level.”
When we get to the edge of the property, we keep low to the ground and use shrubs to hide from view. The house is simple and tired. A siding panel is missing, and a broken window has cardboard taped over one corner, as if someone never got around to replacing it.
“Looks empty. We can head in,” Niro whispers, but I tug him back down when I see a shadow pass by the kitchen window.
“Wait.”
A light flicks on, and we get a better look at our target. He holds a phone to his ear and is talking animatedly. “Patience is a virtue,” I whisper. “Are you a good shot?”
“Close range, always. This far out with a GLOCK, no chance. Here.” Niro opens his jacket and withdraws a gun. “Grabbed this for you when I hid Bates’s keys.”
I take the gun. The standard magazine for a GLOCK 19 holds fifteen bullets. I check. It’s full. “You think he’s told the club what you did yet?” As much as I want to be here with him and be a part of this, I don’t want him to get in trouble.
“No. And you’re gonna have to help me out with this boner when we’re done, because my gun in your hands is better than porn.”
“Honestly, you giving me your gun and letting me do this with you is better than porn too.”
He kisses me. “If it weren’t so fucking cold, I’d fuck you here before we go inside.”
“I wouldn’t let you. First thing they’ll look for is where the perpetrators waited for the victim and see if there is any DNA lying around. Pretty sure fucking on this iced-over grass would leave some evidence.”
“Stop being so practical,” he teases. “Fine, I’ll wait.”
I’ve never really thought about what life would be like if I were accepted into a motorcycle club. Los Reyes has made it clear to me that it could never happen. But the idea of Niro and I doing good work and getting rid of bad people feels like possibility.
The future has always been a nebulous concept. Filled with things I want so badly, but pragmatically knew I’d never get. And yet as we bide our time, watching and waiting while our mark finishes his call, I’m sure it’s within my grasp.
When the mark’s done, he sits down on something by the window. Hard to see what it is. A stool, a chair, or a table maybe.
His back is to us.
“Ready?” Niro asks.
I check my weapon, check the house, then look back at Niro. “Ready. I’ll go to the front door and knock to distract him while you break in the back. We’re killing him, right?”
“We are. Before we do, we need to find the evidence he’s holding.”
I nod. I understand my mission. Something tells me this is my path. I’m reassured that Vex is a brother. It shows the club is already more progressive in its thinking.
With a deep breath, I hurry through the trees to the property’s driveway. As I walk up to the door, I create a role for myself, a reason for knocking. I also tug on the thin inners of my thick riding gloves. By the time my knuckles hit the front door, I’m certain of two things: There are no cameras on the front of the property, and I’m completely in character.
“What are you here for?” the man says after opening the door.
I tug my leather jacket more tightly around me, wishing I still had Niro’s thicker one to battle the icy wind. “I’m sorry. My car just broke down over the rise. And my phone is dead. Can I borrow yours to make a quick call for a mechanic or a tow?”
