Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Dominic (Mace)
“He’s dead.”
My head snaps up from the papers I’m looking at spread out on the table. Talon has come in and is leaning against the doorframe.
“What?”
I was already distracted, thinking about shit I’ve not got time for and not paying any attention to what has been put in front of me. Business has to be taken care of even with all the shit on my mind.
This is not what I wanted to hear when I set Talon the task. He closes the door shutting out the rest of the noise from the others who are at the clubhouse.
“Yeah, you heard me right. And Singer knows. He called me wanting to know if we had anything to do with it, cheeky fucker.”
Talon drops into his chair opposite me and taps his fingers against the surface of the table. A sure sign he’s concerned. Not about telling me this, or even about Singer. We can work all of that out but something else is up.
“What happened to him?” I ask, a knot forming in my lower stomach.
“The police don’t know shit. A forest ranger found him in the Susquehanna River in the middle of nowhere. Slit throat. Had the shit beaten out of him first.”
“Fuck. Did Singer ask questions?” I set the papers down and put my elbows on the table.
“Of course he did. He wants to know if something went wrong on the run.”
“We were only ever protection, he knows that.”
“Which is what I told him. Marshall made him a lot of money, so he’s pissed.”
“Can you smooth it over? I don’t want this to jeopardize our shipment next week. It’s all been agreed and signed off. It’s too late to make any changes to the manifest or docking plan. Is he going to fuck us up?”
“No, it would be bad for business. He’s already committed to receiving it through the green lane, he’ll be fucked too if red flags are raised swapping cargo ships around. But he wants to know what we know.” Talon stops tapping. “We know something, Prez.” He gives me a pointed look.
“And it won’t be leaving this room,” I warn him with a hard stare of my own.
Talon is the only person I told about the Veil Line after the fiasco with Handlebar and his revelation on the day of the run. I’m not compromising them, no matter what happened to Marshall.
There is also the small matter of Cassie being involved, she asked me to find the asshole and he’s turned up dead. I’m not bringing that to her door. This deal with Singer is going to be the one that gets King out of my ass. I’m not letting it go to shit now.
“That might not be why he’s dead. You get in this life, dangerous shit happens,” I say, hoping I’m right, and this is nothing to do with the Veil Line.
“Hell of a coincidence,” Talon leans back watching me closely.
“It’s more likely to be something to do with his business, not what we moved.” Even behind closed doors, where no one can hear us, I don’t want to talk about Marshall’s sister.
Talon is suggesting whoever Marshall got his sister away from went after him.
I’m not sure I believe it, but I can’t ignore it.
And not if it’s something that could put Cassie or anyone else in any danger.
I don’t even know if it was the Veil Line themselves, reacting because Marshall compromised them when we found we were transporting his sister.
It makes sense that they have someone watching the movements of the women, to see if there is anyone following her, or they’re at risk. What happened with us dragging her out of the van and holding her at gunpoint would have been bad, it could have made them pull out.
A horrible thought hits me. What if that did happen and his sister is dead too, they just haven’t found her yet? No. It can’t be that.
That seems less likely from a group rescuing women. The secrecy surrounding it means there is some serious money behind them, expertise that has kept them in the shadows for well over twenty years. It isn’t out of the realms of possibilities that they got rid of Marshall.
I cast the thought aside quickly. If they were responsible, Marshall’s body never would have been found. So who the fuck killed him?
“Find out what you can. Just you,” I add.
Talon understands me. He might not like it, but he doesn’t argue. That’s why he is a good VP. He made his opinion known but he still agrees with me and will do as I asked.
“Keep me posted.”
Talon leaves and I lean against the table. The last thing I want to do is go running to King to find out what the fuck he is doing getting Cassie to look into this. There is one other person who can help.
“Fuck,” I snarl and get up, walking to the bureau where I left my phone.
I fucking hate having to make this call. Regardless of my feelings, he feels the same way about Cassie. I ought to back off where she is concerned. I don’t know her, and I don’t want to get caught up in some twisted fucking triangle with a guy who pisses me off.
“Jesus,” I knock the phone against my forehead. Even thinking about the other night has my dick getting hard.
Life is about more than getting my damn dick wet. Whatever it is going on between them, they can keep it to themselves. I’ll figure this shit out for King and then we can all go in our own direction.
So why am I getting mad at the thought of them together? Without me.
A knock at the door startles me out of those altogether stupid fucking thoughts. Jefferson pokes his head in.
“Visitors,” he says.
“Who?”
He smirks. “Handlebar and that hot as fuck lawyer from the Sussex chapter. I never knew he had an old lady.”
“What?” I snap. My annoyance is barely over the fact they’re here, or Jefferson’s comment about how hot she is. Old lady? What the fuck is he talking about?
“He rode up with her on the back of his bike.”
My gut clenches and I gnash my back teeth together. What the fuck happened in the last two days that has made Cassie allow her fine ass on the back of someone else’s fucking bike?
Not my business, not like I ever wanted her to get on my bike.
“Send them through.”
He disappears and I walk to the window. It faces the front of the clubhouse, and I look around but I don’t see them, they must already be inside. His bike is right there among the others, with two fucking helmets hanging off it.
Is this what jealousy feels like?
I’m so fucking mad at myself I barely hear them coming into the room. Handlebar is unreadable, which isn’t new, but he isn’t staring at Cassie like he owns her, which I would have expected if he’s claimed her.
“Is something wrong?” Cassie asks reading my expression.
“No.”
Actually yeah. And not only because I’m about to lose my shit over whatever the fuck this is.
I’ll find out why they’re here before I spill my bit of shitty information.
A little frown creases between Cassie’s brows at the way I snapped.
Handlebar is watching me like he’s trying to figure me out as he pulls a chair back for her.
He doesn’t miss my scoff. Does he always have to pull the southern gentleman act?
“What are you doing here?” I ask, standing behind my chair.
It’s not obvious to outsiders this is my chair because it’s the same as all the others and not at the head of the table. It faces the only entrance to the room. I always want to be the first to see danger if it ever comes to our door.
I’m also not the type of Prez who has a gavel. That’s an outdated tradition I’ve never been fond of. When we’re around this table we make decisions, either together, or my men accept what I say. I don’t need to be banging a little piece of wood on the table like I’m some kind of judge.
“We came from a meeting with some people who could help us track down the handlers,” she says, while dickhead stands sentry behind her with his arms folded.
“And?” If they’ve got something good, it means I don’t have to bring up the fact that my one and only lead has been bled dry and dumped in the river.
“Not what we were hoping for,” Cassie leans back. “But there is a chance they might contact us.”
Handlebar’s expression still isn’t giving much away, but one thing is obvious, he’s not as convinced as Cassie sounds.
The way I see it, with my lead gone, I’ve got more important things to worry about at my own club. If they want to continue this for King, then that is on them.
“Have you got anywhere with Marshall?” Cassie asks.
There is no point beating around the bush. “He’s dead.”
They both visibly jolt and Cassie tips her head back to look at him, but his eyes never leave mine.
“What the hell happened?” he asks.
“You’ll have to ask the Sheriff about it. I only found out ten minutes ago.”
“Why would someone kill him?”
“He wasn’t a good guy, Cassie,” I tell her. “He helped his sister, but that doesn’t take away from all the bad shit he’s done in his life. Chances are it’s over some deal gone bad or he’s got into something he shouldn’t have. It’s a risk he took with his lifestyle choices.”
“You don’t think it has anything to do with whoever his sister was running from?”
“Guys like that don’t go after other guys,” Handlebar finally speaks. “They get their rocks off from hurting women.”
“Assholes,” Cassie mutters.
“There isn’t much point in me carrying on with this now that Marshall is dead. I’ll call King tomorrow.”
“That isn’t how things work with King,” she says.
“In case you missed it, I’m the President of this chapter. He asked me for a favor and I would have done it if I could, but the guy is dead.”
“Don’t you want to know what happened to him?”
She gets to her feet with an angry glare which is doing all kinds of things I really don’t want it to. Not with him standing behind her. She’s a fucking sight to see when she’s mad.
“Do you even care why he wants to find these people? Have either of you asked him?”
“We don’t question King, like your men wouldn’t question you,” Handlebar says.