The Darkest Of Light (The Kings of Retribution MC)

"Call me if you find anything, brother," I tell Reid.

He lifts his chin, "Will do. I’m heading to my place to do what I got to do. Catch up with you later."

I turn towards Quinn, "Taking my truck, your car is too fuckin’ small, let’s go."

"Aww come on, man, don’t talk about my baby like that. She’s a classic. And she’s not small, your ass is too damn big, squatchman," he says standing from his chair and walking past me to the front door.

We both climb into my truck and get on the road. Quinn reaches over and turns on the radio, and I reach over turning it off.

"Come on, it’s too damn quiet in here," he complains.

"Leave it alone," I order. He digs a pair of earbuds out of his pocket, placing them in his ears and takes his phone out. The rest of the thirty-five-minute ride he doesn’t talk. I pull into Charley’s parking lot. It’s a local bar that a bunch of us visit several times a month. Charley was a friend of Reid’s old man, they both served in the Marines together. He even rides with us from time to time when we do charity runs. We might do some shady shit and live by our own rules, but our club supports its community and the people in it. We give back where it counts, and our country’s veterans are one of them. Those men deserve more than what they receive. I respect Charley.

Being that it’s noon, the place is dead except for the few usual bar flies and the couple of lot lizards we see walking around in the back parking lot designated for the truckers to park at when they need a place to stop and rest. Charley gets a lot of them coming through with their loads and it has helped bring in more business and it being at the edge of town near the interstate makes it a convenient location.

Steppin’ into the bar, we hear the low music from the old jukebox in the far corner of the low-lit room and three old men sitting at the bar watching ESPN on the TV above the bar with no sound coming from it. Charley is behind the bar chatting with them. He looks up as soon as we get close. "Well hell, Quinn, Gabriel. I haven’t seen you guys in here for awhile. How have you been?" he speaks with a huge smile on his face as he greets us with a firm handshake.

"Aww Charley, you miss me?" Quinn teases

"I make good money when you fellas come around. You draw in all those pretty ladies too. What can I do for you guys? I take it this time of day it’s business,” he states.

I nod my head and he leads us to the other end of the bar.

Pulling out the picture of Calvin Green, I sit in on the bar for him to look at, "Need to know if you’ve seen this guy come in here recently, specifically this past week?"

He studies it for a few seconds. "Hmm, we get a lot of truckers passing through, it’s hard to say. You should ask Kinsley, she was waitressing those nights. She’s in the back getting ready for her shift. You guys can go on back and ask her. Sorry I couldn’t help. You can also check my security feeds in the back. You know where everything is. I’ll let you do your thing. Come say your goodbyes when you’re done, alright?”

"You bet, Charley, thanks," Quinn says.

Picking the picture up, I lead the way toward the back and walk into the break room where we see a young woman sitting at the table scribbling in a notebook.

"You Kinsley?" I ask her, my voice booming and bouncing off the walls of the room, causing her to jump in her seat. Quinn takes it upon himself to take over.

"Shit man, don’t scare her. Hey, darlin’, we’re a couple of Charley’s buddies. You waitressed this past week, correct?"

She squares her shoulders, trying to look less intimidated by us.

"Yeah, I started my first night this past Tuesday. Why?" She’s a pretty little thing, but she’s nothing compared to Alba, "You by chance see this guy in the bar those nights?" I show her the picture and she takes it from my hand to get a closer look.

"Yeah, I remember him. He kept to himself. Didn’t drink either. Just asked for water and when he asked for a menu I told him we only serve burgers and fries made to order. He acted like I offered him shit on a platter. He sat in the back-corner booth glued to his phone."

My blood starts pumping. We’ve got proof the fucker was in town. One step closer to pinning this asshole to all the shit going on with Alba.

"You remember when he left that night?" Quinn asks her.

She looks to him, then hands me back the photograph, "No, I’m sorry I don’t have an exact time. It was busy that night, but it was late. He stayed until last call and that was around 2:00 am the next morning," she informs us as she starts to put her things away in a bag, then slides out of her chair.

"I’ve got to start my shift soon. Anything else I can help you fellas with?"

"Well, now that you mention it, you could..." I don’t let Quinn finish the sentence because I know where he was going with it.

"No, we’ll leave you to it," I cut in as I spin Quinn around and give him a small shove towards the door.

As we make our way to Charley’s office, he speaks up. "Man, just because you have yourself a fine lookin’ woman at home doesn’t mean you got to mess with my game, brother. That woman was built for sex. Did you see that ass?"

"Quit thinking with your dick right now. We got shit to take care of," I tell him while pulling up the security feed and going back to last Tuesday night.

"Killjoy," he mumbles.