Shaggy walked across the roof, pausing to kick at some small shards of asphalt. “Yeah, he will. But is that what you want? And I’m asking this ‘cause long time ago, I fucked up. I had a girl, the other half of my soul, and I left her for something I thought was more important—my club. I broke her fucking heart. Abandoned her. She had no one, no protection, and it ended so fucking bad I can hardly breathe for thinkin’ about it.”
“Club first. That’s the life.”
“After all my years of livin’ the life, I can say that’s bullshit.” Shaggy thumped his chest. “Without heart you got nothing to give to the club. And I’ll tell you now, unless you want to wind up bitter and alone with a fucking beard you wear to pay for your sins, you gotta follow your heart.” His phone buzzed and he reached into his cut and pulled it out. “Don’t let Jagger know I said that. I’d never live it down.”
“So why did you tell me?” Holt kneeled and folded down the M24.
A pained expression crossed Shaggy’s face. “So you don’t make the same fucking mistake. So that another innocent girl doesn’t suffer.”
*
Naiya sipped her second vodka and tonic and checked the clock above the bar. If Tank wasn’t back in ten minutes, she was going out to look for Holt herself. Banks had let her use his phone to text Ally and Maurice her new location, but she couldn’t wait. The thought of Holt in a prison cell or a dungeon did strange things to her stomach, and she couldn’t just sit and let it happen.
“You want another?” Banks held up the bottle, and Naiya shook her head.
“I’m still working on this one. I’ve always liked to keep a clear head. Bad things happen when people drink too much.”
“Sensible.” Banks put away the bottle. “I rarely touch the stuff.”
“But you run a bar.”
Banks gave her a wink. “That’s just the day job.”
She wanted to ask about his night job, but his face shuttered quickly, and she took the hint. “Seems crazy for me to be applying for jobs in crime labs while I’m hanging out in an outlaw-biker bar.”
Banks took a bottle of vodka off the shelf. “Just as crazy as me saying the Sinners are good guys for a buncha outlaws. But you fuck with one of their own, and nothing will get in the way of their revenge. They got each other’s backs. A brother gets hurt, the club makes sure he gets the best medical care there is. A brother dies, and his family is taken care of for life. A brother falls on hard times, and the club is there to help him out. Civilians don’t look out for each other that way. So who’s good and who’s bad? Hard to draw that line in the sand.”
“There’s good and bad in everyone.” She toyed with her glass. So far the Sinners had been pretty decent for outlaws. They seemed to understand Holt’s emotional turmoil, and as far as she knew, there had been no fallout after the incident at the clubhouse. Sure some of them were rough and crude, and she had no doubt they were involved in illegal activities, but they were different from the Jacks. The Sinners were all about honor, loyalty and brotherhood.
Banks glanced over his shoulder and his eyes hardened. “You’re all kinds of good. And now you’re gonna have to be all kinds of brave ’cause there’s a suit in the doorway, who looks like law enforcement, and I’m guessing he’s here to cause trouble.”
Naiya looked back over her shoulder and her heart skipped a beat. “It’s the ATF agent from Trenton. I have to get out.” She stared straight ahead, gripped the bar. “Do you have a back exit?”
“You run and you might as well slap a sign on your forehead that says ‘Guilty.’ Banks cracked his neck from side to side. “You’re gonna have to play this one out, but I promise nothing’s gonna happen to you in this bar. He’s made the mistake of walking into Sinner territory and messing with a Sinner’s girl. Now he’s gonna pay the price.”
“Skyler.” He gestured to a young, blonde waitress at the end of the bar. “Your job is to make sure the fed’s glass is never empty. To do that, you’re gonna stand near him the entire time he’s here. He’ll be sitting at the bar, next to our girl, Naiya. If he gets up, you get in his way. If he moves to go anywhere except the door, you spill his drink. You clear on that?”
Skyler paled. “He’s a fed? What if he—?”
“He won’t,” Banks assured her. “Not unless you’ve been in contact with anyone back home.”
“No.” She shook her head violently. “The Sinners have been real good to me. I wouldn’t rat them out, and there’s no one at home I want to talk to.”
“Good girl.” His face softened, and for a moment Naiya wondered if there was something between them. But Skyler looked to be two or three years younger than her, and Banks was … Well it was hard to figure out how old he was. Thirty? Maybe a year or two less?
Naiya braced herself when she heard footsteps, the scrape of a stool beside her, the rustle of a suit, and the heavy stench of cologne.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“Yes.” Naiya fought back a wave of nausea when Michael sat on the stool beside her, impeccably dressed in his “I’m-a-federal-agent-attire”—dark suit, white shirt, and tight smile. “What a coincidence.”