Chapter 34
MERRICK
The bar is tense for the next couple of nights. On Monday, Marietta stays behind at the club to help with the women of the Kin, who have decided to stay.
The Wild Hair travel in twos and threes. Iron Jack has his scouts watching everywhere.
By Tuesday, Marietta is feeling cooped up and asks to work the bar. Iron Jack is in talks with the Deity enforcer, so it’s up to Stoney, who is back from the hospital with Carol and the baby.
He shrugs it off, so Marietta puts on her miniskirt and the bandanna top and rides with me to the Leaky Skull.
Diesel opened, and Symphony’s sitting at the bar when we arrive.
Two-Shit and Fancy, who rode over alongside us, decide to stay for a drink.
The bar is quiet in the late afternoon. I pass the Wild Hair their usuals and walk down to where Marietta is talking to Symphony and Diesel.
Symphony’s head snaps up at my arrival. She comes around the bar to hold my arms and look me up and down. “Are you okay? I can’t believe those bikers tried to run you off the road!”
Shit. Marietta must have told her friends. That is not a good idea.
Diesel glowers at me. He’s tried to warn me off the club since the beginning.
“I’m fine,” Marietta says. “Iron Jack will take care of it.”
I pull her away from Symphony to head for the kitchen.
“What?” she asks.
“It isn’t wise to spill club business to outsiders,” I tell her.
“But Symphony is my friend!”
“I know. But anybody could be listening in. You don’t want to tip off the Kin.”
She juts out a hip. “The bar is dead, Merrick. Nobody’s listening. Good grief.” She pushes back out through the kitchen door.
Goddamn it. That woman. I return to the bar, right on her heels, and grab her elbow. “Look, Marietta. There’s a hierarchy at the club for a reason. You’re not at liberty to talk.”
She jerks her arm away. “What the hell, Merrick? This isn’t 1850, and you’re some black-hat cowboy playing Billy the Kid. You can’t tell me what to do.”
Two-Shit and Fancy look up at that.
“Told you she was his woman,” Two-Shit says.
Fuck. Now, it’s all getting out.
“How long have you two been shacking up?” Fancy asks. “Because you’re fighting like she’s your ol’ lady.”
“Never figured she’d have such a big mouth,” Two-Shit says. “But I like sassy women.”
Diesel drifts down the bar. “What the fuck is going on? Is somebody trying to kill you already?”
Two-Shit and Fancy go quiet. Which is what Marietta ought to be doing.
Symphony makes her way down. “What are you two doing about those … people who tried to run Marietta down?”
Two-Shit and Fancy glance at each other.
Yeah, they’re not talking. And the fact that we did will get back to Iron Jack.
Diesel runs his hand through his hair in exasperation. “What the hell, Merrick? You need to be driving your truck at least. You’re too exposed on that bike.”
Two-Shit lifts a finger at that. “Your brother has a point there.”
I nod. “I’ll fetch the truck tonight. I’ve been at the club.”
“Speaking of which,” Fancy says, “hasn’t this mouse been in your room?” He elbows Two-Shit and says in a falsetto, “Merrick, Merrick!”
Yeah, it’s out.
I walk away, picking up liquor bottles to wipe down. Surely, there’s something that needs doing. There always is.
Diesel follows me. “Are you in a situation? What is going on?”
I turn on him. “We have it handled.”
“Doesn’t fucking sound like it.”
“Don’t get involved.”
Symphony moves down the bar to hear that last line. “You bet we won’t. You do realize I work at the courthouse? Hell, I shouldn’t even be here with all this going on. I’ll get fired. I could be blackballed permanently if anyone gets wind of me cavorting with a bunch of outlaws.”
“It’s not a bunch of outlaws,” Diesel says. “Jesus Christ. He’s part of the Pickle family. You don’t get much more all-American than the deli chain.”
“But this isn’t the deli chain, is it?” Symphony’s eyes are flashing dangerously.
“This is a bar. A biker bar. And the primary clients are trying to kill each other.” She picks up her purse and calls down the bar to where Marietta is talking to Two-Shit and Fancy.
“Marietta, I would feel a lot better if you would go with me. At least until this blows over.”
“Hell, no.” I stride over to her in three long steps, putting myself between her and the open end of the counter. “You can’t protect her right now. We don’t know if they were after me or her, and we can’t take chances.”
Symphony’s eyes go wide. “Are you quitting school, then? For a club? You are almost done with your degree!”
Marietta bites her lip. “I can’t go tomorrow. Or Friday, probably. But after the final raid, it should be fine again.”
“A raid?” Symphony’s voice rises.
“That’s it,” Two-Shit says. “The mouse goes back with us.”
Fancy comes around the bar to fetch her.
Fuck. But he’s right. Marietta can’t be here. She’s too open. Too talkative for what’s going down.
She turns to me. “Merrick? I can’t stay?”
I can’t look into her pleading eyes. “It’s best you go back. See what you can learn from those women.”
Fancy takes her arm. “Come on, Mouse,” he says. “Let’s go.”
“Stop calling her mouse!” Symphony cries. “She’s a grown woman. Marietta, stop this. Come with me.”
But Marietta goes with Fancy, sending a longing look at both of us.
Two-Shit stands up. “We’ll be back in a while. We’ll escort so you can get your truck.”
I nod, watching them head out the front door.
“You’re a rat bastard,” Symphony says.
“Symphony, hey,” Diesel says.
She whirls on him. “You two, you son of a bitch.”
Great, now I’m busting up homes everywhere.
But Diesel is slicker than me on this, hopping the bar and gathering Symphony in his arms.
The two of them hole up in one of the back booths. He’s probably getting her off in there. Those two will do it anywhere.
They’ll be all right.
But I’m not sure about Marietta. Pressure is going to come from all sides.
And we still have the raid to go.