22. Ember #2
I pushed the feeling aside and walked in behind Jack, Knox taking up the rear.
We entered into a dim space that smelled of stale beer and sweat.
A long bar lined one wall, illuminated by a few dangling pendant lights.
Behind it, an old man stood wiping glasses.
He straightened as we entered, leaning big paws on the edge of the bar as he stared. Very intimidating.
At the back of the room, a pool table gleamed green under more pendant lights. The rest of the bar was dominated by half a dozen booths lining the opposite wall to the bar, and tables and chairs filling the rest of the space.
In the corner booth to my right, two men sat nursing brown bottles of beer.
They turned to watch us enter, and one of them leaned back in his seat, arching a brow.
He had dark hair and dense stubble that hugged his strong jaw.
The man across from him was older, with graying hair and a long, rangy body.
He slid out of the booth and stood to face us.
I suppressed a shiver and asked myself, once again, what the hell I was doing here.
Jack turned toward them. He walked with the loose, easy gait of a man who was ready for a fight. I walked with the waddle of a woman who was afraid to poop her pants out of terror.
“Cash,” Jack greeted the seated man, ignoring the other altogether.
“Mars,” Cash replied, and his eyes slid to me. They were very green. “You brought your wife. How nice.” He smiled, and there was a glint in his gaze.
Jack ignored that comment and said, “One of your men threw a brick through my living room window this morning.”
There was a subtle tightening of the skin around Cash’s eyes. “How do you know he was one of mine?”
“He was wearing his cut,” Jack replied, jerking his chin at the standing man’s leather vest.
Cash swore and shook his head. “These fuckin’ idiots,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. A gold signet ring glinted on his pinky finger.
“This wasn’t a sanctioned club activity, I’m guessing,” Jack answered.
“No.” Cash ground his jaw. “We have a truce.”
“I need to know who it was.”
Cash barked a laugh. “No.”
“Someone threw a brick through my window, Cash,” Jack said darkly. He leaned his fists on the table and loomed over the other man. “My wife and child were in the house.”
I shivered at the threat in his tone, but Cash just blinked and shrugged. “Not my problem.”
Jack’s shoulders hiked, and I decided that was my cue. The last thing we needed was an overprotective Jack starting a fight in here. Knox was big, but we were on their turf and I was no use in a brawl. I sidestepped out from behind Jack and said, “I think it is your problem, actually.”
Cash blinked his gaze over to me. He arched a brow, an amused smile curling his lips, looking like I was a small child who’d done something cute. “Oh yeah?”
“There’s a new business registered with you listed as the director,” I said. “A motorcycle repair shop and an equipment rental business.”
Cash’s eyes sharpened. I wasn’t an amusing child anymore. “Yeah. So? Nothing illegal about starting a business.”
“Of course not,” I said, shrugging. “But I imagine it takes a lot of capital to get something like that off the ground. There’s the building and land required. The purchase of the equipment. The liability insurance. Big outlay. You need lots of cash.”
“And you’re offering?” He grinned, and the man standing beside the table laughed.
I smiled at the two of them while Jack bristled beside me.
Knox was a silent presence at my back. When the two other men had quieted down, I said, “No. I imagine you’ve made the appropriate loan applications with your bank.
Based on the date you registered the business, they might still be processing it.
But I do have some information about that new clubhouse you’ve built outside of town.
Something that the bank will find out very shortly, if they don’t already know it.
If you have made a loan application for your new business, there’s a good chance it’ll fall through unless you make other arrangements. ”
Cash’s jaw bulged. “Out with it, then.”
It was my turn to smile at him like he was a small child. “I believe my husband asked you a question, Mr. Bridges. Which of your men threw a brick through our window?”
His gaze slid to Jack. “Where the hell do you guys find these women?”
Jack shrugged. “Ask my grandmother.”
The biker sighed. Suddenly, he looked exhausted.
“I’ve been trying to take us legit,” he told us.
“The business is a way to do that. If I can pull it off, Buzz says he’ll hand me the reins.
” He nodded to the man behind the bar. “Real money for the club. Jobs for all our guys, even the ones who have done time. It’s a way out for all of us. ”
“I thought you were already in charge here,” Jack said.
Cash huffed. “Some of the old guard aren’t happy about my decisions.”
“The brick launcher is one of them?” Jack asked.
Cash met Jack’s gaze, looked at Knox, and then me. He seemed to come to a decision. “I’ve had suspicions that one of our guys is moonlighting. Taking outside jobs.” He grimaced. “Involving civilians.”
“Breaking the rules,” Knox rumbled.
Cash nodded. “If he’s your guy, it means someone else paid him to do it. It’s got nothing to do with the club.”
“We need a name, Cash,” Jack prodded.
The standing man shifted on his feet. Looked at Cash. Cash met his gaze, and some unknown communication passed between them. Cash gritted his teeth and said nothing.
I took all the bits of information we’d gathered and looked at them.
There was a war of succession going on here—Cash and his followers against the old guard, who didn’t want their motorcycle club to go legit.
Our vandal was one of the old guard, and he’d broken a club rule by taking outside jobs from civilians.
Based on the way Cash had revealed it, that was a big deal.