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Chapter Twelve

Sawyer

Fitz headed toward the house to get a pen to sign the lease, and my gut told me not to let him get away. I hurried up the stairs and into the house behind him.

I hadn’t been inside since I’d put together the furniture for him almost a month ago. When I realized what a dumbass I was being, I drove by the house a couple of times, but he was never there. I even stuck a toothpick between the door and the jam the first time I stopped by and knocked. It was still there each time I drove by to check. His absence had all kinds of shit running through my head that pissed me off and made me wonder if I’d missed my chance with Fitz.

I’d finally dropped by Sparks Bail Bonds to talk to Sparky. “Hey, I’m looking for Fitz Morgan. He’s renting a house from me, and I need to get him a copy of the lease to sign.”

Sparky had laughed. “You let him move in without a lease? You’ll never get him out of there, Bones.” I had hoped that was the case.

“I don’t think you’d hire that kind of guy who would squat at my place. He gonna be around anytime soon?” My patience had been shrinking, but I’d never find out what I wanted to know if I threatened Sparky. Had Fitz already left town without telling me?

“He’s out of town on a hunt. Should be back in about a week. You wanna leave the papers with me? I’ll be sure he gets them.” I’d smirked at his eagerness to get into Fitz’s business.

“Thanks, but I need to talk to him about some of the terms of the lease. I’ll check back with him. Have a good one, Sparky.”

I’d picked up the fancy new patio set at a home store and delivered it to the house so I had somewhere to sit in the backyard of the rental house while I waited for Fitz to return. The old set was on the patio at my place behind the clubhouse.

Now, due to my own stupidity when we went out the first time, he didn’t seem to trust me and had put distance between us. I wasn’t going to be so dumb as to fuck things up again.

I hurried up the steps and walked to the back door that was open. “Do you mind if I use your restroom?”

Fitz was reading the lease—smart guy. He glanced in my direction. “Sure. What’s mine is actually yours.”

I chuckled as I headed through the kitchen into the hallway to the bathroom. After I emptied my bladder, I washed my hands, surprised to see guest towels hanging from the towel bar. I opened the vanity to see hand soap, extra toilet paper, a few sets of towels, and toilet cleaner. The man was organized and well-stocked as though he planned to stay and make a life in Vegas.

I dried my hands on my jeans so I didn’t mess up his nice white towels and stepped out of the bathroom, glancing into the primary bathroom to see it was nice and tidy. I didn’t go in; that would be rude without an invitation. I hoped to get one soon.

The wooden bed frame, which I’d put together and had once belonged to Aunt Janice, now held a double box spring, a queen mattress, and light-blue sheets. Two huge pillows leaned against the headboard. The dresser had a nice size television on top, and the shutters were slanted to let in light but not enough to heat the room during the day.

“I, uh, I haven’t shopped for a bedspread yet. I’ve got a few more things I want to get to make it a little homier.”

I turned toward the sound of his voice and noticed again how well-built the man was. He was slender, but the muscles in his legs, arms, shoulders, and ass were fucking incredible. I wanted to push him against the wall and fuck him until we both collapsed.

I chuckled. “You caught me. I was just being nosy to see what you’ve done with the place. Is the HVAC unit doing alright? I’m afraid you’ll probably need to use the AC until early November. Does it keep things cool in here?”

Nervous babbling had been the bane of my existence when I was young, and now it seemed it was back in full force. I’d overcome it when I was in the Army, but somehow, Fitz brought it out of me.

“It’s fine. I don’t like it too cold inside. I’d rather take a cool shower, or even a soak, on hot evenings. It’s a damn shame there’s not a river nearby. When I was a kid, we used to take a swim on hot afternoons in the river that ran through our ranch once we finished chores.” His cute smile told me it was a happy memory for him.

“I can get a bathtub put in here, if you’d like. The back lot isn’t big enough for a pool, but I can get one of those swim spa deals to put back there if you’d rather have that.”

Why the hell was I bending over backwards to please him? That wasn’t me at all.

Fitz glanced at the hardwood floors beneath my boots. “You’re a nice guy, Sawyer. There’s no need for you to do anything extra here. I’m fine with a cool shower. Is there something else I can do for you?” He handed me the envelope with the signed lease inside.

The sound of the man’s voice was sultry, which wasn’t a word I used regularly. As for what Fitz could do for me? A million scenarios danced through my head.

“Will you have dinner with me? Give me another chance, please. I know it was a shit thing to do by not calling you after our last date. I’m attracted to you, Fitz. I’m not good enough for you, but I want us to spend some time together, so please, have dinner with me. Just dinner. Just the two of us.”

Fitz gave me a sad smile. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then you decide it won’t work between us and not call me again. Thanks, though. I’m sure you’ll find someone you think fits you. Obviously, it’s not me.”

How could I argue with him? He was right, and I could tell ghosting Fitz had done more damage than I could have imagined.

I gave him a quick nod, let myself out the back door, and pushed my bike through the gate. I closed it behind me and made a mental note to put a new lock on it for him since the old one was fucked up. I shouldn’t have been able to get in so easily, and I wouldn’t allow someone else to do the same.

Maybe I wasn’t the guy for Fitz, but I’d protect him as though he was mine.

Banging fists on my front door pissed me off, much like the pounding in my head.

“ Comin’! ”

I’d driven straight home, skipped the party at the clubhouse that had bled out into the yard, and parked my bike in front of my house. I’d gone inside, deciding to party by myself with brother Jack, and drank straight from the bottle.

Anything after that was a blur, but I was relieved when I looked to my left to see the bed was empty. I’d stayed at my place and hadn’t called the clubhouse to send anyone down. I was so out of my mind, I wouldn’t have remembered anyway.

I slid on my jeans from the previous night and headed toward the door. When I opened it, I was surprised to see Hobie. Usually, it was Spider or Ders banging on my door.

“Yeah?”

“Someone found a body they think is Boyd Townsend’s this morning. Chet Crane called me at the ass-crack of dawn to say a hiker found Boyd out in the Mojave. I don’t think it’s a big surprise, is it?”

I wasn’t shocked by the news, but I was surprised he knew the cop’s first name. “You on a first-name basis with the officer investigating this shit?” What the hell is the world coming to?

“He’s a decent guy, Bones. We have nothing to worry about because we had nothing to do with what happened at Tumbleweeds. I’d say we cooperate until we find out what the hell is going on. We can always quit cooperating.”

I went to the kitchen to get water in an attempt not to puke in the sink. “Dead?”

“Very. Beaten. Hands cut off. Body burned. Probably set him on fire after they drugged him and dumped his body about a mile inside the state line.”

“Nevada side or California?”

“California. Mitchell Caverns. About eight miles from the Scorpions clubhouse. It seems like it’s cut and dried, Bones. The Scorpions took Boyd and tried to get information out of him to get into the safe at the dispensary. He wouldn’t give it up, no matter how much they tortured him.”

“Did Crane say if they were able to identify Boyd?” I wanted facts before we made Boyd a martyr for the club. I didn’t see the guy as selfless. I wouldn’t memorialize him until I knew exactly what happened to him.

“They’re working on it. The California authorities are handling it now since the body was found in California. They’ll keep Chet—uh, Officer Crane advised since it’s tied to a crime in Vegas.

“Anyway, I thought you’d want to know that Boyd had been found.” Hobie’s expression was unsure.

“You thinkin’ the same thing as me?”

Hobie swallowed and gave a quick nod. “I’m thinkin’ that body wasn’t Boyd’s, but I’m not sure if he’s still alive. Have you talked to Hammer about this?”

I shook my head. “Look, do we know Hammer and some of the others aren’t involved in the robbery? Are we sure this wasn’t an inside job like Crane suggested when he questioned me at the scene?”

I had no idea who the fuck to trust anymore. I wasn’t sure if Hobie did either.

“Prez, I sure as hell hope not. Call a meeting of the executive board and let’s start digging.”

I nodded, feeling my headache kick into high gear.

Three hours later, I’d summoned the executive committee—Spider, T-Roy, Hobie, Ders, Arlo, and also asked Tiny to sit in. Tiny hadn’t been patched yet, but we were still a week away from the official meeting to do the deed. For now, we were short an enforcer, and Tiny was someone I knew I could trust.

Everyone was settled for church when I walked in. I took the gavel and smacked it on the oak square from a tree that had been cut down on the property. My father had cut the knot of wood and sanded it. He used it to gavel in meetings, and I continued that tradition.

Bang! Bang!

“Come to order. I put forth a motion to waive reading the minutes and move to new business.”

Spider held up his hand. “Seconded.”

“Passed.” Derson said as his gaze followed mine to where Tiny was sitting behind the table.

“Tiny, step up, please.” I turned to Spider who handed me the box I’d requested.

The kid looked around as if he believed he was being punked. Hobie grinned. “Step up, man.”

Tiny stepped forward, an uncertain expression on his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

Hobie put his hand on Tiny’s shoulder. “No, Tiny.” He turned toward me and nodded.

“Dean Granger, raise your right hand and place your left hand on the cowboy in the center of the table.” Tiny did as I said.

“Do you swear your allegiance to the Pahrump Steel Cowboys? Do you promise to put the integrity and well-being of the club above all else? Will you uphold the values and rules we’ve made and promise not to share any information about the club outside of this room? Do you swear on your honor?” I recited the vows I’d taken when I was patched in.

Tiny raised one hand and placed his other on the intricately carved cowboy skeleton in the center of the table. “I swear on my honor.”

“Will the vice president present the club colors?”

Spider opened the box and held out the cut that Florence Anderson, Derson’s mom, had made for us, including the enforcer and one-percenter patches. We owed her a dozen roses for her handiwork.

“Tiny, welcome into the brotherhood of the Pahrump Steel Cowboys as a patched member and an enforcer for the club.”

Tiny gave me a double take. “En— Enforcer?” I chuckled and nodded.

Spider handed the cut to Ders to hold out for Tiny, and when the kid slid his large arms through the holes and Ders pushed it up his shoulders, we all clapped, whistled, and patted Tiny on the back. It had been a bit since we’d patched in a new member, and I was glad Tiny was one of us. I had every confidence that the kid would defend the club with his life.

Once the formality was completed, I struck the gavel again. “Before the party begins, I gotta tell you that a body has been found near Mitchell Caverns and it might be Boyd’s. As you all know, he disappeared after the robbery. He hasn’t reached out to anyone, right?”

I glanced around the table for the confirmation I expected. “The body is only identifiable by DNA testing, so we’re waiting to hear the results. When we get validation, we’ll be wearing the black arm bands when representing the club, so bear that in mind.”

“Has anybody talked to his old lady?” T-Roy stood and directed the question to all of us.

Ders, our road captain, lifted his hand. “I propose that the executive committee take a ride out there in the morning to see what she needs and if she’s heard from him.”

Spider seconded, and I banged the gavel. “Everyone, reach out to all the members of our club, along with the Rough Riders and the Stallions, to alert them of this development and ask them to stand by for news of a memorial ride to honor Boyd. Don’t wear your cuts when you’re not on club business until someone claims responsibility for the robbery and possibly Boyd’s death. I think it’s the Scorpions, but without them claiming responsibility, it’s just speculation on my part. Be safe and don’t ride alone.”

They all stood, but I banged the gavel again. “One more thing. We need to patch in Tim Walton as a full brother. If he’s one of us, he won’t turn on us.”

Hobie lifted his hand. “Seconded. I’ll take him under my wing and show him the ropes.” Leave it to my best friend to see there was a reason I’d brought it up. I couldn’t have asked for a better ride or die.

“Aye,” they all responded in unison.

“Ders, ask your mom how soon she can make another cut. We’ll have the ceremony when it’s finished.” He nodded.

“Now, let’s celebrate our newest member. Tomorrow, we’ll ride as Cowboys to check on Mrs. Townsend. When we return, we’ll have church to discuss the next steps we take to defend our turf.” Bang! I gaveled that the meeting was over.

I truly needed to wrap my head around the shit that was going on and not get wrapped around the axle because of Fitz Morgan. Too many irons in the fire were more important than following the whims of my dick.