Captain
"He'd better be." Ruin chuckled. "He's still getting used to being the club’s hacker."
Technology wasn't optional anymore. Rival clubs were using drones, burner phones, encrypted messaging, and financial tracking. The days of settling everything with fists and bullets had changed. Peak just hadn't accepted it yet.
Peak shrugged. "I was busy."
"I own a business, and the guys keep bringing their bikes to me to fix them," Peak said.
"And I own a motorcycle club and expect my hacker to show up for church on time,” Captain spat.
Peak smirked. "Touche." Captain let it go. There'd be plenty of time to argue with him later.
Once everyone settled into their seats, Captain rested both forearms on the table.
"Let's get started." The room immediately quieted.
"Our southern border has had more traffic than I like.
" Several brothers exchanged looks. "Three unknown bikes crossed into our territory this week," Captain continued.
"Didn't stop and didn't cause problems. They just rode through. "
"Were they on their way to Delaware?" one of the brothers asked.
Captain shook his head. "Maybe." But he knew that maybe wasn't a good enough answer. The Delaware chapter of the Grave Prowlers handled their own territory, but Maryland bordered enough roads that strangers passed through every day. Most were harmless, but some weren't.
"I don't care where they're from," Captain said. "If they keep circling our roads, I want names."
Warden stepped back into the room just then. "Perimeter's clear."
Captain nodded toward an empty chair. "Good timing."
Warden sat down. "Anything suspicious?"
"Couple tourists, maybe,” Captain said, filling in his Enforcer.
"Were they wearing patches?" Warden asked.
"Nope,” Captain said. He wasn't worried yet, but he needed answers.
Ruin slid a folder across the table. "There's one more thing.
" Captain opened it. Inside was a single photograph of a woman with dark hair and green eyes, and damn, she was beautiful even with the scratches and bruises on her face and arms. Her dress was in tatters, and she had to be freezing.
She stood near one of their old shipping warehouses down by the Chesapeake Bay.
Captain looked up. "What am I looking at?"
"Our prospects picked her up on one of the security cameras,” Ruin said, as if that would answer all Captain’s questions.
"Was she stealing from us?" Captain asked.
"No."
"Meeting someone?" he asked.
"We don't know,” Ruin said. Captain studied the picture again. She wasn't looking at the warehouse. She was looking beyond it, as though watching and waiting for something or someone.
"How long was she there?" Captain asked.
"Almost two hours,” Ruin said. That wasn't normal. His VP’s answer had all his alarms going off.
“Did anyone show up to question her?” Captain questioned.
“Yeah, I sent over a few prospects since she looked harmless enough,” Ruin said.
"What happened when she saw the prospects?" Captain asked.
Ruin answered. "She ran."
Captain leaned back in his chair. "At least she’s smart enough to run when she sees a few bikers coming to question her." The room chuckled, but Warden didn't.
"We caught her,” Warden said. That bit of information erased every smile in the room.
Captain slowly looked toward his Enforcer. "You brought her here?"
"No,” Warden said.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"Locked in the storage room at the warehouse,” Warden said.
Captain pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me you had a reason to hold her."
"She wouldn't answer questions,” Warden defended. Captain knew that his Enforcer liked to interrogate people, and when they didn’t tell him what he wanted to know, he got creative.
"So your solution was kidnapping her and locking her in the warehouse?" Captain shouted.
"We detained her to ask a few questions. We didn’t kidnap her,” Warden insisted.
Peak laughed. "Do you hear yourself? Keeping her locked up is kidnapping, asshole." Warden shot him a glare. Captain held up one hand before the argument could start.
“So, you told her that she’s free to go then, right?” Captain questioned.
“Um, no,” Warden breathed.
"Did you at least get her name?" Captain asked.
“She says it’s Jezebel.” The name meant absolutely nothing to him, but then again, he was sure that she had given a fake name.
"How about her background? Do we know anything about this woman?" Captain asked.
Warden looked toward Peak. "That's why we called church.
" Captain watched Peak work from the other side of the clubhouse.
Two laptops sat open in front of him, a third screen displayed enough numbers and code to give Captain a headache, and a half-empty cup of coffee sat beside Peak's elbow.
Captain's gaze dropped to Peak's kutte hanging over the back of his chair.
The new officer patch was stitched across the front.
HACKER. Captain smiled. He couldn't help it.
Months ago, he'd sat across the table from the stubborn bastard and asked him to help protect the club, and Peak's answer had been immediate.
I'm not your hacker. Captain had told him they'd fight about it tomorrow, and Peak had pointed at him and complained that Captain kept saying tomorrow.
Captain had promised that one of those tomorrows, Peak would lose the fight, and it turned out Captain had been right. But then again, he usually was.
Peak looked up from the computer. "What?"
"Nothing,” Captain said.
"You're staring at me."
Captain's smile widened. "Just admiring the patch."
Peak glanced toward his kutte. "Don't start."
"I didn't say anything,” Captain defended.
"You don't have to,” Peak grumbled. Captain laughed.
"Seems like I've heard that somewhere before."
Peak narrowed his eyes. "I agreed to take the position. I didn't agree to listen to you gloat about it for the rest of my life."
"Should've read the fine print,” Captain said.
"There wasn't any fine print,” Peak insisted.
"It’s in the club bylaws,” Captain said.
"Show me where it says that I have to put up with your bullshit,” Peak insisted.
Captain leaned back in his chair. "No, I don’t have to do shit because I’m the fucking president." Peak stared at him, and Captain stared back.
Finally, Peak shook his head and returned to the computer. "Asshole."
Captain smiled. "That's Prez Asshole to you.
" Peak's middle finger appeared over the top of the laptop, and Captain laughed.
The man sitting across from him wasn't the reluctant mechanic Captain had spent years trying to drag deeper into the Grave Prowlers. No, he had changed. Peak was patched now. He was committed to the club and to his Ol’lady, Maeve.
And now, when someone threatened the Grave Prowlers, Captain no longer had to manipulate the asshole into helping because Peak was already there.
Which was good, because Captain had a feeling he was going to need him.
“Can we get back to what we’re going to do about the woman that Warden kidnapped?” Ruin asked.
“I didn’t fucking kidnap her,” Warden growled.
Captain sighed and looked back over at Peak. "I want you to look into Jezebel."
Peak nodded. "I want to speak to her first."
Warden frowned. "That's a mistake. She said that she’ll only talk to Captain."
"Maybe it is a mistake, but are you going to send our Prez in to talk to her without knowing if she’s a threat or not?” Peak said. "I can feel her out, and if she's innocent, I don't want us treating her like an enemy."
"And if she isn't innocent?" Warden asked.
Captain's expression hardened. "Then I’ll talk to her, and she'll be mine to deal with." No one questioned him after that. Nobody ever did when he used that voice. Captain stood. "You've got ten minutes with her, Peak."
Peak looked at him like he had lost his mind. "That's it?"
"You asked to interview her, and I’m giving you ten minutes to get it done,” Captain said. "I didn't say you could become best friends with the woman. Ten minutes should be plenty of time to assess her and then do your damn research.” The room laughed, and even Peak smiled.
“I’ll go with him to the warehouse,” Warden offered.
Captain nodded and watched as the two left the clubhouse.
He hoped Warden was wrong about this woman, because Captain had a feeling the moment Jezebel walked onto Grave Prowler’s property, she'd brought trouble with her, and trouble had a habit of costing good men their lives.
Captain stayed in the clubhouse long after Peak and Warden left to go to the warehouse.
The laughter that had filled the room moments earlier had died, replaced by the low murmur of brothers speculating about the woman locked in the storage room at the warehouse.
He let them talk because sometimes a Prez learned more by listening than speaking.
Ruin leaned back in his chair and studied him. "You seem uneasy. Is this about the woman?"
Captain snorted. "You finally figuring me out?"
"You've got that look again,” Ruin said.
"What look?"
"The one that says you're already expecting bodies to drop.
" Captain couldn't argue with that. He'd been doing this long enough to trust his instincts.
They'd kept him alive through club wars, DEA investigations, crooked sheriffs, and one particularly nasty turf dispute that had left half the clubhouse riddled with bullet holes.
His gut had never steered him wrong. And right now, his gut was screaming at him.
"I don't like trouble, and I’m worried that she’s going to give us a whole lot of it," Captain admitted.
"She's one hell of a mystery. Warden called and said that she’s still not talking. Our only hope is Peak finding something in his research,” Ruin said.
“I’m working on my own theory,” Captain said.
"What do you mean?" Ruin asked.