Chapter 21 #6
“That was fucking fun!” Viking says, reaching over to slap Legion’s back while he coughs up a lung. “You good, Lucky Strike ? Hang in there. When we get back to the clubhouse, maybe one of the sweetbutts will give you mouth to mouth.”
“ D id you set Vixie up?” Keegan asks when we enter the Twisted Throttle. The bar appears to have recently closed for the night. Aside from the few tables near the front of the bar, the rest already have chairs atop them.
“Yeah, she’s in Viper’s old room,” Chopper replies.
“Wait a damn minute!” The blonde club whore standing beside the bar jabs her fists into her hips. “I’ve been around nearly three years and I don’t get to have a room here, yet this chick shows up and immediately slides into one?”
“It’s temporary,” Dean insists. “She’s not moving in. Women don’t live at the Saviors’ clubhouse, Maxie. They never have.”
“Excuse me, but what is Cherry?” she persists.
“ A different story . Besides, she rooms with Axel,” Keegan replies, taking a seat at one of the remaining tables.
“I don’t believe this.” She truly seems put out.
“Maxie, go clean tables or something. It’s bad enough I’m going to get reamed by my wife about this. I don’t need any shit from you.”
“I’m telling Vanna you said that.” She pouts. “And I already cleaned the tables.”
“Then you’re done for the night. See you tomorrow.”
The slender blonde storms off with a little disgruntled humph , disappearing beyond the corridor.
“You sure know how to keep your women in line,” I caustically jest.
Keegan scowls at me. “You can go now, too.”
“I don’t get to hear what the whore has to say? You wouldn’t have even known she was somehow involved if not for me. Besides,” I reach into my pocket and remove the thick wad of cash. “I made sure you could add this to your coffers.”
“That’s drug money.” Keegan sighs, though there’s temptation in his eyes.
“It’s still green,” I say. “Six grand. If you don’t want it, I’ll keep it. I was simply endeavoring to be a team player.”
Viking shrugs and then takes a seat at the table as well. “I read somewhere you can scrape traces of cocaine off most bills regardless of where you get them from, anyway. Most money was probably drug money at some point. At least it will go to something good now.”
“Jesus fuck… Alright, put it in the safe and get Vixie,” Keegan says to no one in particular, but Chopper grabs the cash and heads down the corridor past the bar as well.
He returns shortly with the dark-haired whore.
She takes a seat at the table across from Keegan, crossing her knee-high-booted legs.
“Are you alright?” Keegan asks her, seemingly oblivious to the way her pink, sequin skirt rides up her thighs.
“If you don’t count being majorly inconvenienced.” She sighs with agitation. “It’s after hours, can I smoke in here?”
Dean gives her a reluctant nod, and she pulls a tarnished cigarette case from her designer-inspired clutch, popping it open to select one.
“Allow me,” I offer.
She places the cigarette between her lips and turns to face me. I’ve got the flame of my Zippo ready and waiting. She leans forward, placing the end into the fire and pulls a drag, then leans back in her seat, raking her appraising gaze over me.
“Well, hello there, tall, dark, and dangerous ,” she says on a smoky breath. “Are you a new prospect?”
“ He wishes ,” Viking chuffs, folding his massive arms. “How long have you been going blow for blow ?”
She rolls her eyes at his crude question. “I see you haven’t changed much.”
“You don’t mess with perfection.” Viking grins, and the egotistical reply coaxes a smile from the whore.
“What can you tell us about the people you’re working for?” Keegan asks.
“People? That guy who left me there takes a cut of my earnings to watch out for me and send the clients up to my room,” she casually explains.
A bit too nonchalant for my liking. She is only a whore, so the probability of her knowing any pertinent information regarding her pimp’s higher-ups is minuscule.
However, there’s no reason to forgo thoroughness at the expense of appeasing a whore…
“I don’t know what people you’re talking about,” she adds, pulling a sanitary wipe from a small packet in her purse.
She places it down on the table to flick her ash upon.
“Let’s see the phone,” I say.
“Why?” she sneers, though this time she keeps her gaze fixed on her ashes. “I just told you I don’t work with anyone else.”
“Then there’s no reason to guard your contacts,” I press.
“How about privacy , asshole?” she snaps, casting a brief, warning glare up at me. It lacks all the conviction of her tone.
I grab a chair from the next table over and slide it up beside her.
She watches warily from the corner of her eye as I lower myself into it and lean closer to her.
Visibly tensing, she instinctively shrinks from my proximity as I drape an arm across the back of her chair.
Keegan’s creaks under his shifting weight, and I can practically feel his over-protective, watchful scowl boring into me with an unspoken warning, as if I’d harm the whore… . As if I’d need to…
I pluck the cigarette from her trembling fingers, and before I have it completely snuffed out on the wipe, she’s already reaching into her little knock-off Kelly.
Timidly, she places the cell on the table, and the lockscreen indicates it is password-protected.
She only hesitates a moment before placing her thumb on the scanner, then Viking snatches it, immediately raiding her contacts.
“ Good girl ,” I growl, brushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. I straighten in my seat, rewarding her cooperation by granting her back her personal space.
“These all look like nicknames for Johns,” Viking says. “Crooked Cock… Foot Fetish… Little Hands …”
“ My regulars .” She rolls her eyes again.
“Do you still have the pimp’s cell?” I ask.
Viking reaches into his cut and places two cellphones on the table. “One of them belongs to him. I don’t remember which.”
Keegan picks up the first phone, powering it on. “This one’s a brick,” he says, placing it aside before checking the other. “This one isn’t password protected.”
“Call her pimp,” I say. “For starters, we’ll establish which is which.”
“What’s your pimp’s name?” Viking asks.
“I don’t know, we don’t use our real names,” she says.
Viking lets out an impatient huff. “ What’s he listed under ?”
“John.”
“ A pimp called John .” Viking chuckles as he scrolls and hits call. The locked phone on the table rings.
“Answer the call and see if it lets you bypass the password,” I say. “If not, try a few common ones… 0000, 1111, 1234. If none of those work, we’re not getting in. The only way to unlock it is a factory reset, which defeats the purpose.”
“I can still give it to Jason,” Keegan says, attempting a few passwords to no avail. “Cops have more pull with providers, and maybe it will help tie these smaller cells to the network.”
“What are you all talking about?” the whore asks. “Cells, networks, providers…is this code talk?”
“Don’t worry about it, doll.” Keegan offers her an easy smile. “Is there anything else you can tell us about John? You ever see him dealing with anybody else?” He hands her the unlocked phone. “Do any of these names or numbers look familiar?”
While she scrolls, the Creek County connection plagues my mind.
Though it could simply be a coincidence.
This operation does stretch across multiple counties.
I know where to find him if the need to further interrogate him arises.
I imagine the guard would be the more likely of the two with any contacts to the next tier in this organization…
If Reaper is running things the way I was, whores are simply supplemental income, as well as another avenue to push product.
Anyone having anything to do with the drug manufacturing side of the business would be in a more valuable position. I need the guard’s phone…
“No, nobody,” the whore says, placing the phone down on the table.
Viking gives her back her phone, just as the front door of the roadhouse swings on its hinges, and Keegan leans back agitatedly, less than thrilled by this new arrival.
Viking quickly snatches the guard’s cell and tucks it into the inner left pocket of his cut as the sound of heels thunk across the hardwood, halting a few steps behind me.
“ Lucinda…” Keegan announces her presence on a weary sigh, and I struggle to suppress a grin.
“I called her for a ride a little while ago,” the whore says. “Can I go now?”
Keegan simply gestures to the door in salient defeat.
“Sorry, I couldn’t be more help.” The whore stands, stepping around me to join Lucinda. “If you ever need another waitress in the bar, I’m available,” she adds, a measure of hope in her tone.
“Thanks, doll. I will keep the offer in mind,” Keegan replies with a sympathetic smile.
Lucinda scoffs, “After you fired her because your wilting flower couldn’t stand up for herself?”
So, that’s what happened… Lucinda recruited the whore in her mission to run Vanna out of town, as well…
I turn around and allow the devious grin to stretch my features.
Lucinda’s eyes widen as recognition slaps her across the face…
much in the way my cock did in that hotel room a few years ago…
I wonder how much of what we did that night still lingers in her memory…
If she can still feel the sole of my foot pinning her face against the carpet…
If she remembers the burning stretch of me, balls deep in her tight little ass…
“Oh my god!” She nearly staggers in her Louboutins, clutching the whore’s arm. “What is he doing here?”
“Like you, he was just leaving,” Keegan coolly replies.
That’s news to me... There is further examination of the guard’s phone to be conducted.
“I’ll give you a head start and keep him here another minute, so you have time to vacate the lot,” Keegan adds, and I’m met with another of his glares when I turn around. “You don’t have to be afraid of him.”
I rule in favor of playing nicely… I promised Vanna my best behavior at her table this holiday dinner, and so I’ll chalk this encounter up to practice for the occasion.
Lucinda scurries out the door with her hooker friend, and once they’ve departed, Keegan begins again. “I’ll give Jason the two phones. I’d like to talk to him about the scrapyard, anyway… You can go now, too.” He cocks his chin at me.
“There is still more to go through in that phone before you hand it over to the cops,” I insist. “Texts, travel apps, for starters.”
“We’ll let you know what we find.” Keegan glances at Viking, who stands and gestures to the steel door.
Fuck… “Then perhaps I’ll catch Vixie in the parking lot.” I move swiftly for the door, counting on Keegan’s over-protective inclinations to kick in, and they do. Before the door shuts behind me, he orders his Sergeant at Arms to make sure I leave the women alone if they haven’t departed.
They’re still getting into Lucinda’s car. I slow my pace and walk casually toward my bike.
“Yo, Legion, wait up a minute,” Viking calls.
I halt and turn to face him. Perhaps despite everything that has occurred, we’ve come to some sort of understanding, if not a genuine and solidified truce, after tonight’s events.
“I’m not going to shake your piss hand, but…
” Viking grabs my leather jacket at the shoulder, and I’m surprised when he pulls me in as if to hug me.
What feels like a cannonball slams brutally into my gut, and I’m on my back in the lot of the Twisted Throttle once again, clutching my abdomen. Only this time, I can’t fucking breathe.
Gravel crunches beneath his heavy boots as he steps closer to me, and I hope he isn’t going to kick me next. Where the fuck is Keegan to remind this loose cannon of my leverage?
Viking’s fist curls into the collar of my jacket, and he hauls me up to his glaring face. “If you ever threaten my girl again…if you even look at her wrong… I swear to the Old Gods, I’ll make you wish you were dead.”
“ Who…who’s your…girl?” I manage to force the words out on a wheeze.
“ Val ... And while you’re avoiding her, stay the fuck away from the rest of the Steel Vixens MC.”
“N-noted… Duly …”
He shoves me down as he stands, but I manage to prevent the back of my skull from smacking against the gravel.
“ See you at Friendsgiving ,” he sneers, then heads for the roadhouse. “I hope that gut check doesn’t interfere with your appetite, dick.” The steel door of the Twisted Throttle slams shut behind him.
Finally able to breathe, I get up and brush myself off. Despite the sharp ache in my abdomen, I can’t help smiling as I make my way to my bike, tucking the guard’s cellphone into my jacket. I managed to swipe it from Viking’s cut pocket while he was distracted, assaulting me.
Once through the gates, I race toward the highway, wondering how heated Puppet might still be after our little fuck-fest in the forest.