Rhythm of the Road (Lost Kings MC 16)

I press a finger against my lips. The way Pants oh-so casually mentioned the hidden cameras at the porno palace has me wondering if the clubhouse is rigged up too.

Sure enough, after a quick search, I find a camera pointed at the bed.

Classy.

To be fair, I’d have to be an idiot not to see it, but still.

Shutting it off will only raise Ice’s suspicions. He’ll either think Jiggy and I want some alone time or that we’re in here conspiring against him. Neither are real helpful.

“You want to ride down to the store with me?” I ask, tilting my head toward the camera.

“No, I want to get my dick sucked. You offering?”

“Not if you were on your deathbed, brother.”

He lets out a big, dramatic sigh. “Yeah, I’ll go with you, ya big, needy bastard.”

We move through the clubhouse slowly, invite a few brothers to come along with us. Everyone’s shitfaced so no one bites but at least we’ve made the offer.

Outside, we’re quiet. We nod hello to a few people hanging around the parking lot. Thank the prospects for looking after our bikes. Then get the fuck out of there.

Jigsaw follows me down the mountain road into town. We a pass a few other bikes. Probably headed toward the clubhouse. Flash a two-fingered hello at each one. A cloud of paranoia clings to me as we escape the clubhouse.

Finally we reach the closest town. I pull into the only place open at this hour, a small gas station. No doubt Ice has his hooks in everything around here, so I search for a spot away from prying eyes and big ears.

My gaze lands on an ancient playground across the street. Large, swaying willow trees provide privacy.

“Want me to push ya on the swings, big buddy?” Jigsaw asks as he follows me.

“Sure, then I’ll spin you on the merry-go-round, dick.”

Except for a few empty brown bags fluttering over the grass, the park is clear. I stop and peer up at the large metal frame of the industrial-size swing set. The contraption lets out a long metallic groan as I throw myself into one of the soft, black seats.

“Aw, it’s like the day we met all over again.” Jigsaw squeezes himself into the swing next to me, digging his boots into the dirt and launching himself sideways. “You feeling nostalgic?”

“You want me to break your arm so we can find out?”

He stares at his right hand. “No, I’m good.”

“What the fuck did we step into here?” I ask.

“I don’t fuckin’ know. But I’m thoroughly creeped the fuck out that he has cameras in the bedrooms. That seems like very un-bro-code behavior.”

I snort. “We’re way past worrying about bro code. You hear what Pants said?”

“Uh, that Ice is probably blackmailing some government officials? Yeah, got that.”

“That ain’t gonna end well.”

“No shit.” He twists the swing around and lets it spin him a few times. “Who do you think the blood is?”

“Could be anyone. I don’t know a lot about Ice’s family.”

“Think Z does?”

“Texted him earlier. But, fuck I can’t call him with this. I gotta tell him face-to-face.”

Jigsaw shivers. “Christ, better not piss off Ice. He’ll have fuckin’ Pants feed us to his hogs.”

“Guessing that’s where those Vipers ended up. Maybe an ATF agent or two?”

He’s quiet for a few blessed seconds. “Not a whole lot we can do if Ice has already set it into motion. At least, until the warrants for all our arrests start coming when the mole gets caught and the government wants to set an example.”

The hairs on my arms prickle and stand up. Jigsaw nailed every one of my concerns in a few sentences.

He grunts and stays silent for a few seconds. “I get why you didn’t want to turn the camera off with me in your room, but I think Ice will understand why if Shelby’s with you.”

“Fuck,” I groan. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“He’s not stupid. Creepy as fuck, yes. But not dumb. You know how to find hidden cameras and shit. And by the way, you’re coming up to my room with me to do a search when we get back. Just FYI.”

“Any sane man’s gonna shut it off.”

“Yeah, well it’s a dick move for him to have ’em and not warn a brother, anyway.”

I’ve certainly never worried about shit like that in either of our New York clubhouses.Chapter FortyRooster

Ice never said a word about the cameras I disconnected in our rooms. Maybe I’m overthinking the whole thing and they’re only there as some extra insurance when people outside the club visit.

The irony of it is Jigsaw and I have been spending all week setting up cameras and lights at the house during the day. At night, I’ve been working on the website. Anya wants everything operational before some radio interview she has scheduled. And I’m eager to finish so I can get the fuck out of here.