Chapter 2
Chapter Two
We rolled up on the trucking company. Tangaloa and I were dismounting from our bikes as Red and Aftermath pulled into the lot behind us in their rented SUV.
I hadn’t had a good look at it before we’d left the hotel, but this close, I realized that it was discreetly armored.
Was that because they were hunting Bloody Scorpions or because they were driving around with their women most days?
It seemed extreme. Then again, with the shit they’ve most likely seen riding with the Royal Bastards, was any measure too extreme to protect the woman you love?
I would have. If she was still here.
The brothers got out. At least, Red had left the damn hat behind.
We weren’t going to get anywhere near the front door with him wearing that.
Yooko would already be laughing his ass off when he saw how much sunscreen Red was wearing.
Wasn’t he from Los Angeles? Didn’t they get sun there too?
But Red was probably locked away in front of his computers most days.
The lot we were standing in had a single story building with a mostly glass wall in the front.
The roof and other exterior walls were white.
Under us was a sandstone parking lot, which was why we had to park our bikes on the sidewalk outside the storefront.
To the right of the building was a line of available rentals, from box trucks to pickup trucks.
“The trucking agreement is legit,” Red repeated.
“So what we need to figure out is if there are any trackers on the trucks. If you guys are able to distract the receptionist, I can get behind the counter and plant this,” he held up a thumb drive, “into their system. Once it’s in, I’ll be able to take remote control of their systems and turn on any trackers. ”
Tangaloa laughed as I snorted.
Red’s cheeks flamed. “What? It’s a solid plan—except the two of you have to be the ones to do the distracting. This one,” he threw a thumb at Aftermath, “is incapable of flirting with anyone but his wife.”
I glanced at Aftermath, who seemed proud, not ashamed, of that fact. Well, good on him, I guess. Loyalty was a trait I greatly admired in people. I was loyal to my sister, because she was blood, but her actions betrayed more than her vows to Tangaloa. I had a hard time trusting her now too.
Flirting with another woman should be harmless. I didn’t know from Red’s statement if Aftermath was bad at flirting in general except with Kensi or if his principles didn’t allow him to flirt outside of his marriage. Either way, my respect for the mountain of a man grew.
I looked back to Red. “It might be a solid plan, but you are missing one minute,” I held my hand up with barely a space between my thumb and forefinger, “detail.”
“What’s that?” he asked, looking between me and the building behind us.
“Yooko doesn’t believe in computers.” Tangaloa pulled out the rental slip from his back pocket.
Neither had bothered asking for it back before, so he’d pocketed it.
“It’s why it’s a carbon copy and not a printed form.
He doesn’t have anything you could plug that into, nor would he have trackers on his trucks. ”
Red’s cheeks turned so bright that it was a wonder his sunscreen didn’t melt off of his face. “Then how are we supposed to find the trucks? We only know the general direction they were going in.”
“That’s the beauty of living on an island,” I informed him, turning to open the front glass door. “Locals talk—and we hate outsiders who threaten our way of life.”
The interior of the building wasn’t much nicer than the outside. It was an old building that had weathered hurricanes, tsunamis, big storms, and a lot of years in the blazing sun. The ceiling tiles were cracked, the linoleum was stained, and the reception counter was held together by duct tape.
A hefty man in his mid-fifties came out from the backroom. His shoulders were so wide that he had to twist to make it through the smaller than standard frame. He had long black hair down to his shoulders, a bushy mustache, and a double chin.
“Aloiki, howzit!” He held up his massive arms in greeting. “Tangaloa, hermano!” He offered both of us a large hug, slapping me so hard on the back that my spine cracked.
Aftermath and Red tried to keep the shock off of their faces at seeing Yooko, but neither of them succeeded.
The man made Aftermath look like a toddler.
At seven-two, he probably weighed somewhere around four hundred and fifty pounds.
And he wasn’t Hawai‘ian. His parents had immigrated from Mexico when he was a child, so he didn’t have an overly strong accent, but his heritage was still obvious when he spoke.
Yooko and Tangaloa were business partners in that Tangaloa used Yooko’s trucks to move his product and Yooko used Tangaloa’s men when he hosted certain events. He’d even rented my camera equipment a time or two when he wanted to film the festivities.
Yooko might make a pretty penny renting trucks, but his real business was sex.
Whereas my business was making videos for others’ entertainment, Yooko’s was so people could have sex.
His trucks were a brothel on wheels, and then he made fake rental agreements to launder the money. It really was ingenious.
His one hard and fast rule was no kids. I supported that wholeheartedly. I was the same way. If a seventeen year and eleven month old came knocking on my door, she’d have to wait the month. I didn’t care that the age of consent in Hawai‘i was sixteen, there were no exceptions.
Yooko’s flesh trade was completely consensual, and he had both men and women workers of varying sexualities.
He’d actually rescued a number of his workers from the streets, gave them three meals a day, access to healthcare, and provided them with a roof over their heads.
He was good people, who looked after his workers.
And he didn’t judge. Some people just liked sex with strangers, and he provided a safe way to do it.
We differed in that I generally didn’t allow strangers into my business, which was always filmed. Yooko’s was all about discretion.
People could book my services, like the eighteen-year-old I didn’t get a chance to finish fucking yesterday.
There were waivers, forms, and payment. As far as the IRS was concerned, she was paying for horseback riding lessons, but that was just a detail on an invoice.
She also got an unedited copy of the shoot, or she would have if I hadn’t left my phone’s ringer on.
The main question I had for Yooko was if the Bloody Scorpions knew about his side business or if they literally rented trucks from him. As far as competitive prices were concerned, Yooko’s were fairly cheap.
“Strangers or friends?” Yooko asked, spotting that we weren’t alone.
“Friends,” I answered. I didn’t need Yooko to hold anything back. “We need some information about some trucks you rented.”
Yooko raised a bushy eyebrow. “You’d have to be more specific, mi amigo.”
Tangaloa handed over the carbon copy of the rental agreement. “Are you familiar with the Bloody Scorpions?”
“Can’t say I am.” Yooko pulled a pair of glasses out of the front pocket of his printed Hawai‘ian shirt. He loved wearing bright shirts and traditional wrap skirts around his legs. I suspected he went commando underneath from his occasional comment about ‘the cool breeze’ feeling good down there. I might despise shirts, but the one thing I’ll never be caught without is underwear.
I tossed my hat on the counter, leaning my elbow up against it as Yooko looked over the agreement.
“I remember this one. Kemi took care of it.” One or two of his workers covered the counter for him at times. “He forgot to charge them sales tax, and I scolded him, poor boy.”
Aftermath and Red might not understand the double meaning behind that statement, but Tangaloa and I did. That scolding likely involved a paddle and a blowjob from Kemi as penitence. Yooko had a thing for twinks.
“But you didn’t see the customers yourself?” Tangaloa verified.
Yooko shook his head. “No, not personally. But Kemi is working today. What is it you need from them?”
Aftermath made to speak, but I cut him off with a look. Yooko might be speaking freely in front of two men I’d claimed as friends, but that didn’t mean he was going to speak to them himself. Though Aftermath’s look turned dark, he clamped his mouth closed.
Tangaloa answered. “We believe the men who rented the trucks are with the Bloody Scorpions Motorcycle Club. If so, they’re the sort we don’t want on our island.”
Yooko nodded, understanding. “I’m not sure what Kemi can tell you, but let’s go ask.” He went to step behind the counter again, but then paused. He looked straight at Red and Aftermath. “You can look but don’t touch.”
His voice was anything but friendly. Yooko was extremely protective of his people.
I might have said that Red and Aftermath were friends, but they were still strangers, and since neither Tangaloa nor I had explained Yooko’s side business to them, they seemed understandably confused by the stern directive.
We followed Yooko through the backroom that was set up like an employee break area, down the hall, and out the back door.
Eight trucks were lined up in a semi-circle facing away from us.
A concrete slab that had once been a kids’ basketball court now parked a variety of mopeds, cars, bicycles, and in one case, a Segway.
The engines of all the trucks were running, which meant we likely caught them just before they were to head out.