Page 27

Maverick

I blasted out of the Kansas clubhouse before the sun rose, dust clouds trailing behind my Harley. The open road was familiar, a friend, a confidant, the only fucking piece of stability in my life these days. Until Lexi. The engine’s rumble rattled my bones, but it also calmed me. Took me back to a time when I thought I was in control, back when I only had my own problems to worry about. That was before Lexi, before I realized I could actually care about someone other than myself again.

Damn it, it was all so fucked. Just moments ago, I'd locked eyes with her, pressed my mouth to hers, breathed her in like she was the last bit of oxygen left on earth, and now I was riding away. Leaving her behind in that clubhouse. I hated myself for it, but there was no choice. If I wanted to keep her alive, I had to go figure out who exactly wanted her dead. And the best lead I had right now pointed me south, to the last place on earth I wanted to be. Nashville, Tennessee.

More specifically, I was about to stick my head in the lion’s den of the Music City Syndicate, run by Ralph Getty. But if the intel from Sarge was right, and Sarge is an old bastard who usually nails this kind of shit, it wasn’t just Ralph Getty. It was Sky who had some stake in it, too. The same Sky who used to warm my bed in Alaska, the same Sky who’d run from Kingpin with me, the very Sky who left me for that piece-of-shit mobster. The same fucking Sky who apparently was helping Ralph run the Syndicate now that Ralph had popped his Uncle and claimed the throne. Didn’t that beat all?

I felt sick just thinking about it, but I couldn’t ignore the chatter from the Road Monsters. My brothers traveled all over the country and knew all the secrets. Lexi’s father wasn’t some unknown biker. And Grinder, who was behind the threat was working for another mob boss, a cousin in the East. So, my brothers seem to think Lexi’s father might’ve been the late, notorious criminal mastermind named Alexzander Getty. They explained that Getty was at least where Diana was said to have been getting all the money she threw around for the last twenty-five years.

Diana being with Getty twenty six years ago, getting pregnant and holding it over the mobster was feasible, to say the least. That would make Lexi actually a Getty by blood. And if that was the case, maybe Ralph had reasons, the typical mob politics to want her snuffed out. Hell, he might see her as competition, or as some loose end that could unravel the entire family if she decided to stake a claim. After all, he just recently killed his Uncle Alex to become the head of the Music City Syndicate. Who the fuck knows how these insane families think?

Kingpin had worried Dirty Diana was offering to funnel secrets about him to whoever wanted her dead, but it turns out it was simpler, and more complicated, than that. So, if she’d been in Nashville at some point long enough to know anything about Kingpin, she may have also been in the right place and time to have gotten pregnant by Alex Getty. The big problem was, if Lexi was truly the daughter of Alexzander Getty, that was enough to put a big red target on her back. And now that Diana was dead, Lexi would be next. Because families like the Gettys tie up loose ends with bullets, not with court orders.

But none of that explained how Kingpin fit in. Or how the hell my ex, Sky, had a role in Diana’s murder, if she had one at all. Or if Kingpin was working behind the scenes, pulling strings, maybe trying to pit me against Ralph for his own ends. Trusting that bastard was like hugging a rattlesnake. He was an Ace of the Road Monsters MC, but that doesn’t mean he was loyal to me. Hell, we had a history that’s so twisted it tied my brain into knots.

Despite it all, I had one advantage. Eve. She was Kingpin’s wife, mother of his kids, the woman who’d once been my fiancée. That old heartbreak still left a bitter taste in my mouth. But if there was one thing I knew about Eve, it was that she wasn’t a liar. Secretive, yes. She’d hide shit like a professional gambler, but she didn’t lie straight to your face. Not without reason, anyway. So maybe I could corner her, get the truth about Kingpin’s involvement, about Sky, about the entire fucked-up mess. She might not be thrilled to help me, but she’d do it if it meant keeping her own life stable.

Hence my plan to ride to Nashville, call Eve, and arrange a meeting somewhere neutral. Yeah, real fucking brilliant. I was basically inviting Kingpin’s wrath if he found out. But I never claimed to be a genius, just a desperate bastard.

The first day on the road was hell. I blasted through Missouri’s rural highways, fueling up at grimy gas stations, choking down stale coffee, constantly checking my mirrors to see if I had a tail. If Grinder’s men who were working for Ralph Getty were onto me, I’d spot them, but so far, I was alone. The bike’s engine sang a monotonous lullaby, and I let my mind drift to Lexi.

Fuck, I missed her. I’d only known her a short time, but she’d carved a place in my chest that felt deeper than anything I’d felt since… well, since I lost my first unborn child with Eve. And then when I gave love a chance again, with Sky, my heart shattered again. That old sorrow nearly shattered me for good. I’d never let myself get close to that kind of pain again until Lexi happened. And now here I was, in deeper than ever. Couldn’t even think of losing her. Not after everything.

She was so different from Sky. Sky thrived on chaos, on drama, on men with power. Lexi? She valued justice, something I once believed in. She wanted to help people, actually do good in the world. That shit’s rare, especially in my circle. And I found I wanted to protect her hope, her goodness, no matter what. Christ, look at me, turning into a sappy motherfucker. But that’s what caring does to a man, makes him reckless, makes him do stupid things like leaving her behind in an outlaw clubhouse while I chase answers in a city that wants me dead. Great plan.

I reached the outskirts of Nashville late the next day, having crashed at a cheap motel in Kentucky the night before. My nerves were shot, my body aching, but I pressed on. The city skyline, all bright lights and glitz, stirred up old memories. The last time I’d been here, I’d been forced to kneel before Kingpin, literally and figuratively. That bastard had me by the balls. Now? I wasn’t sure if I was coming back to wage war or to beg for help. Possibly both.

I pulled into a Dolly Parton themed diner on the outskirts, a tacky little spot with neon pink lettering, pictures of Dolly plastered on every surface. I could hear country music twanging out from the speakers above the door. Perfect for a clandestine meeting with your ex, who used to sing on Broadway, right?