Her nose wrinkles but she nods quickly. “Some of the brothers think he’s the one who ratted them out to the Feds.”
Wrath and I share a look. We’d run into Sticks before. Young patch holder. He was loose-lipped when we prodded him with a few questions. Ratting to the Feds wouldn’t surprise me one bit.
“Did he?” Rock asks.
Her gaze drops to the ground, like she suddenly finds the broken pavement fascinating. “I don’t know.”
Rock sends an eye roll my way. “Sounds like a yes.”
“I’m just a girl. They don’t tell me club stuff.” She crosses her arms over her chest like that’s the end of our discussion.
I study her carefully. They probably don’t tell her anything too important. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t know things.
Rock turns away. “Watch her. Dex hasn’t answered. I’m going to call him.”
I briefly consider calling Charlotte, but we’re not exactly out of danger yet. “Who’s Goober?”
“Uh…another patch holder.” She shifts on her feet and slides her gaze toward the woods behind us. “A friend of my brother’s. Why?”
“You know where he is?”
“No.”
“I’m not getting an answer from them,” Rock says, tucking his phone away and tugging on his gloves. “Let’s get the body and get out of here.”
The distant roar of motorcycle engines replaces the quiet chirping of crickets.
Too late now.
“Any chance that’s Merlin and the others?” Grinder asks.
Wrath shakes his head. “Doubt it.”
June slides toward my truck, her sneakers scraping through the sandy gravel, leaving a trail behind her.
Carter opens his door and beckons her closer with a wave of his hand.
“Guess she’s riding with us.” I lift my chin. “How many of ’em went to meet Merlin, June?”
“At least three,” she answers without hesitation. “They left Con here to watch me and Carter. My father, his enforcer, and my brother all left to meet Merlin. All patch holders.” She lifts her chin as if that’s something to be proud of.
“Being a patched brother ain’t exactly a threat with this MC,” Jigsaw snickers. “They’re fucking clowns.”
“Clowns who cut off Carter’s toe,” I remind him.
“Yeah, they’re definitely on the Pennywise end of the clown spectrum,” Jiggy agrees.
“Can we play rate-a-clown some other time?” Rock nudges me toward my truck. “We have a body to collect.”
“And some bodies to drop,” Grinder reminds us, jerking his head toward the approaching engines.
“You’re still on parole,” Z reminds him. “Why don’t you and—”
“Like fuck am I leaving you here, dipshit.” Grinder cracks a faint smile. “I mean, Prez.”
“The motherfucking disrespect from this one,” Z grumbles. A grin plays over his face. He clearly doesn’t give a shit about Grinder’s refusal to leave.
The engines grow even louder.