Page 32 of The Lies We Tell

SAINT

Ifeel like a total shit.

The look in Briar’s eyes when I left my apartment for the clubhouse was disappointment. Well, maybe not, but something akin toI need you, and I don’t understand why you are leaving me.

And it was impossible to tell her why I really needed to go.

I can’t tell her I’m an ATF agent. At best, she thinks I’m off to the strip club. Maybe she gives me the benefit of the doubt that it’s work. Worst case, she saw a biker pull on his cut and walk off to hang out with his friends. She saw an unreliable man. Probably a criminal.

Perhaps she knows what happens in an MC clubhouse, all the pussy and alcohol on tap.

It’s chapping my ass that she doesn’t know I can be counted on. That I have to put the job first. That the work I’m doing is important.

At least I thought it was.

As confused about that as I am about her, I climbed on my bike and told her I’d be back tomorrow.

She’d smiled when we’d thrown a large suitcase of her belongings into the back of the truck and driven home. She constructed a temporary workstation on the breakfast bar and was setting up her new phone when I told her I had to go. The two loaded guns I left for her were cold comfort. She’s never fired a gun before. I gave her a quick primer and then had to leave her, with a pink blush to her cheeks and exhaustion in her eyes.

“Vex,” I say, popping my head into his closet.

I sayclosetbecause he took a small room off the kitchen and set it up as our tech central.

He slips his glasses down his nose. “Preacher man. How goes it?”

“It goes,” I say, taking a seat on the chair on the other side of the desk.

“You get your friend set up okay?”

“I did. Thanks for the help. What are you up to?”

“Spark and King got a bead on the truck you and Spark came up against the other night. They saw it again. We got a name from the plates. Joseph Hosea. Looks like he’s affiliated with the Righteous Brotherhood.”

“That’s the name of the guy who grabbed”—I stop myself before I say Briar’s name—“who grabbed the woman?”

“Yup. I’m thinking Spark’s got a hard-on for the Irish chick. She was sitting outside a diner down by the shore, opposite the strip club. Spark spotted the dick who shot at you guys hitting on Iris. King wanted to ignore it. None of our business. But Spark went off like he always does when he sees someone in trouble.”

“Was it after they did the drop at the club?”

“Yeah.”

Fuck, I should have been there. They were so close. And I’d be a more credible future witness, because there’s no way Spark or King will sign up to take the stand if it ever comes down to that. I could have taken photographs. Sent them to the FBI and the ATF and made use of facial recognition software.

Briar deserves some peace.

“They get any images?” I ask casually.

“Nah. Just the plates. I might have a way to get some though. There aren’t too many organizations into running women. Russians, maybe. Some Eastern European groups. Maybe some incel shit. Think white alt-right groups.”

“Those alt-right fuckers get everywhere,” I mumble.

“As a Black man walking among ’em, I feel that,” Vex says.

“I bet you do.” My MO has always been laid-back, but I’m desperate for all the intel Vex has. “King gonna take action?”

Vex rubs a hand over his hair. “Depends on how they encroach, I guess. Two sightings in a handful of days aren’t a trend. I think he’s gonna take a ride out to Bethlehem, see if he can’t figure shit out.”

I pat my pockets. “Shit, I’m out of smokes. Gonna pop to the store and grab some.”