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“I know. Can’t say that I blame them. He’s damaged a lot of people’s trust for no good goddamned reason.

Just wish he’d come to me and Kat and be honest about what the fuck is going on so we can fix this shit, all of it, and get back to being on the same page again,” Mark admitted.

“I miss the little shit, and I hate the hurt I see in Kat’s eyes every time she thinks about him.

Never thought a day would come when we couldn’t trust that he’d back anyone wearing our colors, no matter what the circumstance. ”

Yeah. Creature felt that to his core. Being pissed off and having in-house beefs was one thing; that shit happened all the time.

Members found a way to squash it without going to war with one another, though throwing hands was often the best way to calm shit down.

Teddy watching a van drive off with one of their guys in it, even if it wasn’t a patched-in member and only a protected newcomer in line to earn a patch he’d long craved, well, it just hadn’t sat right with many of the club brothers and sisters at all.

Mark had to know that even taking Teddy back wouldn’t restore their faith in them.

He could lay his life on the line, and even that might not be enough to erase the betrayal in some people’s minds.

Once burned and all that.

Some of them had just been burned too many times.

“Anyone know what the fuck jumped off at the gas station?” Creature asked, now that there was a lull in the conversation. “Every cop car in town is surrounding the place, and they were hauling a corpse out in a bag.”

“Anyone we know?” Mark asked as Pope spun around and took a few steps in Creature’s direction.

“No clue. They were all covered up. But I saw the Martinezes standing outside with Scout and that kid with the patches on his jacket. Ace something, they were all good, but Scout was missing his shirt, and he had streaks of what looked like blood all over his jeans.”

“Axel,” Pope replied, looking relieved.

He must have been the one with the connection.

“Yeah, neither looked harmed, though Scout was carrying his jacket instead of wearing it. Not sure what that was all about.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough; he’s due for his shift in…” Mark paused and checked his phone. “Sixteen minutes. Should I be worried about him showing up on time?”

“No clue, man; I stopped to ask what was up and got threatened with metal bracelets if I didn’t move along.”

“Need us to go see what we can learn?” Pope asked, the man’s once calm demeanor beginning to prickle with restless energy.

“You got a hard-on for this kid or something?” Mark asked.

“Not the way you’re thinkin’ Prez, but after speaking to Dalton about him and some of the things he heard going on in that trailer while he was still living in the park, I think the kid could use a father figure in his life and some big brothers to look out for him,” Pope replied.

“Yeah, I picked up the same vibe,” Mark admitted. “But give Scout the sixteen; you can grill him when he gets here. If he gets here.”

“Alright, but at seventeen I go take a look for myself,” Pope declared.

“Fair enough.”

Maybe it was his own curiosity and the endless cycle of days spent in the shop, or maybe it was hearing about the kids’ upbringing and the images that had sprouted in Creature’s mind, distorted memories of the furious, drunken man who’d spawned him and the heavy fist he’d wielded while raising his sons.

If that was the kind of hellhole Axel was living in, then Pope was right; someone did need to take an interest, or at least step in, touch base, and make sure the kid was okay.

“Someone’s here,” Mark replied as the buzzer in the office sounded the way it always did when someone entered the right code.

Was a whole different noise when you fucked around and typed in a wrong one.

Guys had been met at shotgun point for setting off the warning bells.

Security was something the club took seriously, and not just here.

Every business had a state-of-the-art security system, cameras, and at least one weapon on the premises.

Mr. Martinez wasn’t even willing to put a handgun beneath the counter, not when it was well known that he and his wife would help and even start a tab when someone was struggling and in between jobs.

People knew that all they needed to do was ask and they’d catch a break, as long as they weren’t known for trying to take advantage.

For that reason alone, Creature highly doubted that whoever had been rolled out on a gurney had been known to them.

“Hey, look at this shit,” Pope said as he flipped the television on and switched the channel to the news.

Three state cruisers were chasing an teal Dodge Neon with gray steam pouring out from beneath the hood and a driver weaving all over the place, occasionally throwing random, useless shots at the deputies behind him and the news chopper circling the pursuit.

“Does that asshole seriously think he’ll be able to stay ahead of the cops in that rolling wreck?

” Mark asked as he stepped up to the bar, rapping it with his knuckles until Night stepped from the back, long hair beneath a black bandana, to see what their Prez needed. “Got anymore wings back there?”

“Got as many as you’d like,” Night said. “You just need to tell me how you want ‘em.”

“Sweet and spicy.”

“You got it, Prez.”

Talk about another welcome change. Their former prospect had really revved up the menu, taking in feedback from everyone to provide the most well-rounded options for everyone in the club.

He’d even put together a special menu for the pups and littles, with special dishes and containers purchased just for them.

Now that was a man who’d earned trust and loyalty through unwavering actions and service to the club.

“I-I’m not late, am I?” a gasping, breathless Scout asked as he burst through the doorway and made a beeline for the to-do list Kat left for him each day.

“Naw, kid, you’re a few minutes early,” Mark remarked after checking his phone again. “Now bring your ass over here; we need to talk to you.”

“Yes, sir,” Scout replied, already on his way over.

His shirt looked hastily put on, the seams showing, while his hair was damp, now that Creature got a closer look at him.

“You might wanna fix your clothes too,” Mark said, never missing anything. “Your fly is open, and your shirt is on inside out.”

“Sorry, I—I had to grab a quick shower,” Scout muttered as he hastily buttoned his jeans and stripped his t-shirt off.

Up close, the three-headed hound looked to have letters scrawled across the bottom of it, though the letters didn’t belong to any language Creature knew, not that there were many.

English and Spanish, predominantly, though he’d picked up a smattering of Portuguese from his time living with relatives up north.

Interesting.

“And why was that?” Mark asked, having turned away from the bar to cross his arms as he studied him.

“T-there was a robbery at the gas station,” Scout stammered, but he never lowered his gaze and easily maintained eye contact with him. “Ms. Esperanza got shot, and I tried to help her until the paramedics came.”

“Was she still alive when they rolled her out?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you did good,” Mark replied, turning his back and patting the seat between him and Pope. “Now sit your ass down and tell us what happened.”