Chapter Twenty
Bone
I was halfway through my second cup of coffee when Taco walked into the clubhouse carrying a fucking jar of jam.
Taco stopped three feet inside the door. “What?”
I leaned back in my chair at the table. “Nothing.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re looking at me weird.”
“I always look at you weird.”
“Yeah, but this is different.”
Rowdy came through the door behind him with a white paper bag tucked under his arm. “He’s sensitive about the jam.”
“Fuck you,” Taco snapped.
I looked at Rowdy. “Why is he sensitive about the jam?”
“I’m not,” Taco raised his voice.
“He got bullied at the farmers market.”
Taco spun around. “I did not get fucking bullied.”
“By three women.”
“I swear to God, Rowdy,” Taco growled.
“Pretty brutal too,” Rowdy continued.
I took another drink of coffee. It wasn’t even ten thirty in the morning, and somehow this was already my problem. “Who bullied you?”
“Nobody,” Taco replied.
“Hazel,” Rowdy laughed.
My coffee cup stopped halfway to the table.
Taco shot him a dirty look before walking toward the kitchen. “I’m putting my shit away.”
“Make sure you put your name on it,” Rowdy called.
Taco flipped him off without looking back.
I glanced at Rowdy and finally set my cup down. “Why was Hazel at the farmers market?”
The grin on his face got bigger. I immediately regretted asking. “Buying shit, I assume.”
“No shit.”
“You asked.”
“Who was she with?”
Rowdy pulled out the chair across from me and dropped into it. “You taking attendance?”
“Answer the fucking question.”
“Crystal and Kori.”
I knew both of them from Bing’s. Not well, but I’d seen them plenty of times over the years. Marshfield wasn’t huge, and Bing’s wasn’t exactly a new bar.
“They friends now?”
Rowdy shrugged. “Looked like it.”
That was good. Not that I gave a shit who Hazel hung out with.
Except I did. A little.
She’d moved here without knowing anybody other than the aunt who’d left her the house, and that woman was dead. Mom had latched onto Hazel within about thirty seconds, but Mom could make friends with a fucking tree.
Knowing Hazel was making friends of her own was good.
That was all.
I reached for my coffee.
Rowdy was still looking at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Then stop looking at me.”
He chuckled.
Taco came back out of the kitchen.
“Your jam safe?” Rowdy asked.
“My jam was never in danger.”
“You looked pretty worried.”
“Because I know the assholes who live here,” Taco shot back.
“You are one of the assholes who lives here,” I pointed out.
“Exactly.”
Taco dropped into the chair beside Rowdy.
I looked at him. “So Hazel bullied you?”
“She did not fucking bully me.”
“What’d she do?”
“Nothing.”
Rowdy answered for him. “Judged him for buying strawberry jam.”
Taco slapped a hand against the table. “What the fuck is wrong with strawberry jam?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Apparently, Prez agrees with you,” Rowdy said.
“Because I’m not an idiot.”
Taco pointed at me. “Thank you.”
“Still weird that you go to the farmers market every Saturday.”
His hand dropped.
Rowdy barked out a laugh.
“How the fuck do you know I go every Saturday?”
“Lucky guess.”
“Hazel know that?”
Taco’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah.”
I smiled.
It was stupid. All of it, but I could picture Hazel standing there giving Taco shit. I could practically hear her laughing. That laugh had stuck with me since the first day I’d seen her standing in her driveway with Ma.
So had a lot of other things.
Like what she’d looked like beneath me.
What she’d sounded like.
The feel of her hands on me.
The way she’d smiled from behind the shower curtain Wednesday morning when I’d stood there like a fucking idiot instead of leaving.
Two days.
I hadn’t seen her in two days.
That was nothing.
I’d gone months without seeing women I’d fucked before.
Hell, there were women whose names I’d barely remembered the next morning.
Hazel wasn’t one of them. That was the problem.
I still hadn’t figured that shit out.
“So.” Taco dragged the word out.
I looked at him. “What?”
He leaned back. “You gonna ask?”
“Ask what?”
“If Hazel said anything about you.”
I stared at him.
Taco smiled.
Rowdy suddenly looked interested too.
“I don’t give a fuck if Hazel said anything about me,” I bit out.
“Okay.” Taco nodded.
I waited.
He said nothing.
Motherfucker.
I took another drink of coffee.
Taco scratched his jaw.
Rowdy looked toward the bar.
Neither said a word.
I made it maybe ten seconds. “Did she?”
Taco burst out laughing.
Rowdy smiled wide and shook his head.
“Did she or not?” I asked.
“Nope.”
That shouldn’t have irritated me, but it did. “What the fuck do you mean, nope?”
Taco laughed harder. “I mean she didn’t ask about you.”
We were grown fucking men. Women came through the clubhouse. Guys disappeared with them. Nobody cared.
But Hazel wasn’t some woman who’d come through the clubhouse.
She lived next door to my mother. And obviously that was enough for these two assholes to think they’d found the funniest thing to happen all year.
Taco finally got himself under control. “Relax, Prez.”
“I am relaxed,” I insisted.
“Sure.”
“Did she seem okay?” I asked.
He pressed his lips together.
I pointed at him. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Answer me.”
Taco shrugged. “She seemed good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means good, Bone. Happy. Having fun. Laughing. Buying shit with the girls.”
I nodded. Good. She should be having fun. I didn’t want her sitting around waiting for me. So why the fuck did it bother me that Hazel clearly liked things the same way I did?
“She’s funny,” Rowdy said.
I looked at him. “What?”
“Hazel. She’s funny.”
“I know.”
Both of them went quiet.
Fuck.
Taco’s eyebrows slowly lifted.
I stood. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t—”
“You’re about to,” I cut him off. I grabbed my coffee.
“Where are you going?” Taco asked.
“Away from you two.”
“Want me to tell Hazel you said hi next time I see her?”
I kept walking.
“Want me to give her your number?”
“Fuck off, Taco,” I called.
“Maybe buy her some jam?”
I flipped him off over my shoulder.
Their laughter followed me down the hallway.
Assholes.
Every fucking one of them.
I walked into the office and kicked the door shut behind me. I dropped into the chair behind the desk and set my coffee down.
Paperwork covered half the desk.
Grave Casket orders.
Shipping manifests.
Invoices.
A list Bull had put together of every shipment we’d sent through Milwaukee over the last six months.
That was what I needed to be thinking about.
Not Hazel.
Owen Mercer, the transfer facility, the gun shipments, and the man Eli claimed he’d watched put a bullet in Owen’s chest.
That was shit that mattered.
I pulled Bull’s list closer.
We had pieces, but none of them fit together yet.
My phone vibrated and I grabbed it from my pocket.
Unknown number.
I knew exactly who it was and answered.
“Yeah.”
“It’s Eli.” He sounded just as nervous as he had before.
“You finally ready to talk?”
“I already talked.”
“Face-to-face.”
Silence. I waited.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” he said.
“And?”
Another pause. Then, “I’ll meet you.”
I sat back. “When?”
“Tuesday.”
“Where?”
“Not at my house.”
“I didn’t ask to come to your house,” I drawled.
“And not your clubhouse.”
“No shit.” I got the hint that he wasn’t interested in becoming a prospect for the Prowlers.
“I mean it.”
“I heard you.”
“I don’t want anybody seeing me with you.”
That was going to be a little fucking difficult. I wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
“Then pick a place.”
He went quiet.
I heard movement on his end. Maybe a door closing. Then his voice dropped. “There’s a truck stop off Highway 10, west of Waupaca.”
I knew it. “Parking lot?”
“No. There’s an access road behind it. Runs back toward an old storage building. Nobody uses it anymore.”
“You sure?”
“I drive past it every day.”
“What time?”
“Nine.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Alone.”
I almost laughed. “No.”
“Bone.”
“You watched a man get murdered, kept your mouth shut for almost two weeks, and now you’re scared enough that you’ve been calling me from a number I assume isn’t your regular phone.”
Nothing.
“That about right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’m not walking into a meeting alone.”
“I won’t come if there’s a bunch of you.”
“There won’t be.”
“How many?”
“Me and Myth.”
“The guy who came to the facility?”
“Yeah.”
Eli went quiet. “He scared the shit out of me.”
That made me smile. “I’ll tell him. He’ll be proud.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“Just you two?”
“Just us.”
Another pause. “Fine.”
“Nine.”
“Nine,” he confirmed.
I started to hang up. “Bone.”
I put the phone back to my ear. “What?”
“I remembered something.”
My grip tightened. “What?”
“I don’t want to say it on the phone.”
I stared at the paperwork spread across my desk. “You’re already talking on the fucking phone.”
“I know. I just...” He breathed out. “I need to show you.”
“Show me what?”
“Tuesday.”
Then the line went dead.
I pulled the phone away from my ear. “Son of a bitch.”
I stared at the screen.
Eli had been terrified the first time we’d talked.
He’d watched Owen die and hadn’t said a word because he’d been afraid whoever killed him might come after him next. Now he wanted to meet.
I pushed away from the desk and walked out of the office.
Taco and Rowdy were still at the table, but Myth had joined them.
He looked over when I came in. “What?”
“Eli.”
Myth immediately stood. “He call?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“We’re meeting him Tuesday night.”
“Where?”
“Outside Waupaca. Nine.”
Myth nodded. “What’d he say?”
“Not much.” I grabbed my cigarettes off the bar and slid one between my lips. “He remembered something.”
“What?”
I lit the cigarette and took a drag. “Wouldn’t tell me.”
Taco frowned. “That sounds shady as fuck.”
“Thanks, Taco,” I chuckled.
“Just saying.”
I blew smoke toward the ceiling.
Myth grabbed his phone. “I’ll let Dave know.”
“Tell him to keep digging. Don’t tell him to stop anything because we’re meeting Eli.”
“Got it.”
I took another drag. “Just you and me Tuesday.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Eli’s rules?”
“Yeah.”
“You agreed?”
I shrugged. “He’s scared.”
“He should be.”
“Not of us.”
Myth nodded slowly.
“Prez.”
I looked at Taco. “What?”
“You gonna see Hazel tonight?”
I stared at him.
Myth looked between us. “Hazel?”
“No,” I said.
Taco nodded toward Rowdy. “Told you.”
“Why the fuck are you two discussing my night?”
“Because you asked twelve questions about her,” Rowdy countered.
“I asked three.”
“More than three.”
“Don’t you have jam to eat?” I asked.
Taco smiled. “See? You’re deflecting.”
I took the cigarette from my mouth. “I’m about five seconds from assigning you to clean every fucking toilet in this clubhouse.”
His smile disappeared. “I’m done.”
“Thought so.”
I headed back toward my office.
“Bone,” Myth called.
I stopped and looked over my shoulder.
He was smiling now too.
“Fuck you.”
He held up his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I walked away.
Hazel could wait.
I had a club to run, a dead man to figure out, and a terrified witness who might finally give us the first real break we’d had. That was where my head needed to be.
Not on the woman two miles down the road who evidently hadn’t asked about me once.
I stepped into the office and shut the door.
“Fuck.”
Two days.
It had only been two fucking days, and somehow that was starting to feel like too damn long.