Page 43 of Hell on Wheels

I insisted on that when I agreed to this bullshit. “She’s anxious about her sister. Can’t fucking blame her.”

“I don’t,” Grim replied, “but I also don’t trust her. Not yet. She ain’t got any loyalty to Tonopah.”

“No, but she’s loyal to me,” I replied with conviction. “So that should be enough.”

Grim scrubbed a hand down his face. “My club took a hit for her. Fucking had a semi drive through the goddamn gate. I need to know what she’s plannin’ on my turf, Maddog.”

I opened my mouth to reply when he held up a hand.

“From one pres to another, give me a chance to sort this.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. “He keeps eyes on her at all times. Shit goes down and he moves in right away. I don’t want Lark hurt.”

“Already taken care of, brother.”

I snorted at his use of the term. “Not patched in yet.”

“Not according to Lucifer.”

That deceptive asshole. He never fully disclosed everything about my contract or what I would become. I could feel Kane’s presence, though, and the comfort it provided released some of the tension I felt about Lark.

Why didn’t she tell me her plans? We got close. It wasn’t just the sex either. I believed I broke through those walls she erected to keep out the world and additional suffering. I fucking dealt with soul-shattering trauma too. We were two broken souls finding a home in one another.

No, she wouldn’t fuck me over. Or the Royal Bastards.

The only logical conclusion was that she was working with someone else. Someone she had to keep secret because of her sister. Didn’t explain why she felt she couldn’t talk to me. A part of me was fucking pissed. The rest understood she operated from a mixture of fear and experience. Life had not been kind to my sweet bird.

“Who do you think she’s working with?” I finally asked, reaching for the Johnnie Walker Blue Label bottle on the table and pouring a heavy shot, tossing it back before he answered.

I welcomed the resulting burn and the hint of spice on my tongue. Always could taste the orange, honey, and ginger first. Then, the hazelnut, sandalwood, and dark chocolate. Smooth, rich, and decadent every damn swallow.

Grim didn’t fuck around with his whiskey. Made me like him a little more when he wasn’t being a fucking demanding prick.

“I’d say the feds. Local police are crooked even after we got rid of the sheriff who liked touching little girls and kidnapping women. She’s from Vegas. Lots of power players there who could have gotten their hooks into her.”

I didn’t like to assume shit like this, but Lark didn’t leave me much choice. “Fuck.”

“Doesn’t matter, Maddog. We’ve got tabs on her now. Even if she manages to give Spook the slip, I’ve got Xenon following her. He’s got eyes and ears all over the city of sin. She won’t get far without turning up on our radar.”

“Xenon?” Who the fuck was that?

“Forgot you hadn’t seen him yet. He’s been buried in his fucking monitors again.” Grim shook his head. “Fucker forgets life happens around him while he’s stuck in his world of voyeurism.”

“Your point?”

“Xenon is the best tracker I’ve ever met. He can hack anything. Find anyone. He’s gone down some dark trails for us and never fails to get what we need. If your woman’s sister is alive, he’ll find her.”

“So he’s watchin’ Lark and lookin’ for her sister Molly too?”

“Yeah. Been deep in the shit, brother. That’s why we haven’t seen him for a couple of days. He goes dark until he finds what he’s looking for.”

“I’m not sure that’s good for Lark.”

“It is. He’s good at multitasking. Crazy good.”

I had my doubts but didn’t argue. It didn’t fucking matter. Not yet. Once it did, I’d make a move. If the Marine Corps taught me anything, it was patience. Hurry up and wait. The fucking unofficial motto of the United States military.

I knocked back another shot of whiskey before shoving the bottle in Grim’s direction. “I hate to drink alone.”

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