Soulless (Lawless #2)(15)

“I appreciate that, but if that war ever happens it might be in here because I got something in the works to get me out, but if it doesn’t come through I’m looking at hard f*cking time,” I said, wiping the beading sweat off my forehead.

“You in here because of the girl, aren’t you?” Munch asked. “’Cause killing two civilians ain’t really your style.”

“Yeah.” I inhaled deeply, needing the nicotine more than ever. “Better me than her. Would f*cking do it again in a heartbeat. I signed a confession, so it don’t look like I’m going nowhere anytime soon.”

“You leave that to us, brother,” Munch said with a slick smile. The kid could always figure his way around shit, so I wouldn’t put it past him to really be able to get me out somehow. “We already have something in the works.”

“What Munch means is that a chick he used to bang got herself a job sorting evidence for the county,” Wolf said.

“That right?”

“Yep, and it seems that the guns used in the murders have just up and disappeared,” Munch said, making a poof with his hands. It’s not like those guns had my prints on them, but it was still enough to cause a big ripple in the prosecution’s case.

“They still have my signed confession.”

Wolf laughed. “They don’t anymore. Funny thing about that too. The prosecutor assigned to the case seems to have lost all traces of it. And the judge—being old and senile and not to mention deeply in debt to us for running his daughter’s fiancé out of town—swears he never even saw it.” He winked.

Wolf shook his head and smiled. “We also think that hot shot, shady as f*ck lawyer of yours had the coroner’s report altered to say a whole bunch of conflicting things about the murder. She filed for a case dismissal, so now we just wait.”

Munch cracked his knuckles and slid an unlit cigarette behind his right ear. “That bitch is shady as f*ck, and I’d like to show her how much I appreciate the way she looks in those tight skirts by way of f*cking her cougar ass sideways. She prosecuted a couple of cases where I wound up on the wrong side of the courtroom, and I swear I didn’t care how much time I got as long as she kept bending that fine ass over her table to sort through her papers.”

The three of us laughed and even Stone smiled briefly. It all felt normal.

Well, as normal as I’d ever known.

Somehow I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time Bethany Fletcher and I would be working together.

The prospect of getting out and seeing Ti made my heart beat stronger, faster, and more powerful.

And then suddenly it hit me.

“I think I know how to get to my old man,” I said, taking a long slow drag from my smoke, my thoughts firmly on my surprise visitor from that very morning.

“How?” Munch asked, leaning in close.

“Not how. WHO,” I said.

“Okay who?” Wolf asked, also leaning in.

“You said Chop was asking the BBBs where SHE was.” I stubbed out my smoke and pulled on my beard. “I think I know who SHE is.”

In the yard of the county jail on a day where the sun relentlessly beat down on us like it was trying to punish the occupants of the earth, a broken piece of me was put back together.

“So what do you say, brother? You want some new soldiers, so we can all wear a cut again? So we can all believe in shit again?” Munch asked, stubbing out his smoke. “We can be our own club, do shit right this time.”

I cracked my knuckles. “I ain’t putting a f*cking cut on again. That part of me is f*cking dead. I won’t be your leader. I won’t be your Prez, but I’ll be a soldier with you. We’ll go to f*cking war together, and we’ll bring that motherf*cker down.”

We may not have been an official MC.

But we were officially at war.





CHAPTER EIGHT




Thia


“I thought you were taking me to the grove,” I said as King pulled up at a motel off the highway, halfway between Jessep and Logan’s Beach.

“I am, but Bear didn’t want you to be alone out there. He called someone to watch over you. We’re meeting here.”

“Who?” I asked, but King was already out of the truck and opening one of the motel room doors.

We waited for what seemed like hours, but in reality was probably only minutes when a knock came at the door. King placed his index finger over his lips. He slowly moved toward the curtains, peeling back the thick fabric and peering out the streaky window. Satisfied with what he saw, he removed the safety latch and unlocked the door. He opened it only a few inches and stepped aside to let whoever it was in the room.

What I saw standing there was not what I expected.

It was not who I expected.

What I was expecting was another burley biker. Someone who looked mean and was draped in skull and cross-bone tattoos. What I didn’t expect was the blonde petite thing standing before me.

I certainly never expected a girl.

“This place is a dump,” she said bluntly, pushing past King. She looked around the room as King shut the door, latched it, and took another peek out the window.

“Any possibility you were followed?” King asked. She ignored him, flitting about the room like a fly trying to find an open window.