“Zip? But he’s guarding Joni.”
“I need my VP for this. I’ll get Cheese to take over Joni’s watch.”
“But he’s so young. Is he…experienced?”
“Yup. I trusted him enough to let him guard you, didn’t I?”
I thought for a moment. “Okay. I’ll stay with Boxer.”
“No fight?”
I settled down in the seat, feeling sleepy, my eyes closing. “Nope. You were completely reasonable. Thank you. Where are we headed? Back to the clubhouse?”
He didn’t answer as he fished his phone out of his vest pocket, flipped it open, and pressed a button. A moment later he said, “I need you and Boxer in Odessa by tomorrow at ten a.m. Get Cheese to cover you. It’s worse than we thought. Come ready for a fight. I’ll explain later.” He hung up and set his phone in the center console.
“You didn’t ask them about the distraction they caused.”
“Didn’t need to,” Colt said. “Mia?”
“Yeah, Colt?”
“I’m sorry.”
I opened one eye and looked at him as a pit of worry dropped into my belly. “For what?”
He glanced at me with a devilish grin. “For having the boys torch Dive Bar.”
My mouth dropped open. “What is it with you guys and arson? First Dev sets fire to my home. And now the bar,my bar,had an arson problem?”
“It’s not really your bar. Deed only. Dive Bar has been crawling with Iron Horsemen,” he pointed out. “None of that matters at the moment anyway. We needed a distraction, right? That was perfect. It’ll keep everyone busy for a while. And besides, you heard the lawyer, it’s insured and the paperwork is up to date.”
“I—you—seriously?” I glared at him.
He had the audacity to smile. “You should get some sleep.”
“How the hell am I supposed to sleep now? Arson. Coke. Acartel. This is freakin’ nuts.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
I swallowed. “I’m terrified, Colt. I mean, it was one thing to worry when I thought it was just the Iron Horsemen, you know? But a cartel? They take violence to an entirely new level and they don’t give ashitabout your moral code of not touching families or Old Ladies.”
His hand clenched the steering wheel. “I know. Christ, I know.”
“What did Richie think he was doing?” I asked, trying to figure out the thought process of my deceased boss. “Do you think Dev was screwing Richie over in some way and Richie wanted Dev to get into shit with the cartel?”
“He’s not here to ask, sweetheart. All we can do is speculate.”
Had it just been about money? Had it been all about greed?
Richie had never been terrible to me or to any of his employees, he’d just been an absent boss. He certainly didn’t deserve the death he’d gotten.
No one deserved to die like that.
Somehow I was able to doze for a bit and woke up as we pulled into a shitty motel parking lot—one that looked like it could be rented by the hour. It was early morning and there wasn’t any foot traffic. Colt knocked on door number 6 and Boxer answered. Zip was sitting on one of the two double beds smoking a cigarette.
“Let’s get this shit done, yeah?” Zip asked in surly impatience. He sucked on the cigarette as he dashed from the room.
I looked at Boxer. “What’s wrong with him?”