Landon shook his head. “Look, we appreciate it, brother. But this is our shit from our old lives.”
“And we’re all going to deal with it, together,” Ryker growled. The man wasn’t in charge or anything, but there was definitely a way he carried himself with authority and wisdom that kind of had a way of getting shit done. Probably had something to do with him having been an MC president years before.
“Fuck it,” Axe spat. “I don’t know who this Harry shit-head is, but he’s about to learn what happens when you fuck with Blackthorn.”
I raked my fingers over my jaw.
“His crew… these guys aren’t going to be fucking around, guys.”
“Oh, trust me,” Stone muttered, cracking his knuckles. “Neither are we.”
Ryker grinned, nodding his head. “Good. Let’s get on this. I’ll talk to Braun, Vlad, Austin, and Dallas. We’ll get some watches or cameras set up on roads up here and get some buzz going around town to see if people have been spotting anyone who they don’t recognize.”
He was about to say something else, when he glanced past me towards the office. I turned to see Addison waving to get his attention before she stuck her head out of the office door.
“Someone’s outside the bay doors.”
The five of us bristled, Stone turning and immediately grabbing a sawed-off shotgun from some hidden holster under the mechanic’s bench, before Addison waved her hands.
“Whoa, easy, cowboys, Jesus.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a cop. Sooo…” she eyed Stone and then turned to glare at her husband. “Maybe we put the guns away, boys?”
The Stone nodded, slipping the gun back into its holster. But the five us eyed each other warily. There were a few shops, like ours, or Kennedy’s clinic, in what was kind of the “downtown” area at the base of Blackthorn. But Blackthorn Mountain wasn’t a town or anything, and for that reason, there really wasn’t any sort of police force up here.
Yes, the cops from Loggersville were available for any real emergencies. As were the State Troopers stationed about an hour away. But the folks that lived on the mountain basically had a system of keeping an eye on each other and doing a pretty good job of policing themselves.
…Which begged the question: what the fuck was a cop doing outside the garage of three former MC outlaws, and two former odd-job-pulling, mafia-employed, equally-as-checkered-past outlaws like Landon and me?
“No one act like an asshole, alright?” Ryker growled, moving to the garage door switch and flicking it. The big metal bay door rattled and whined as it started to roll up, and as the late morning light poured in, the five us stepped forward.
The guy was fucking big. I mean, shit, I’ll give him that. Big, clean-cut, blond and blue-eyed, with a strong, chiseled jaw, and broad shoulders. The guy looked more like one of those guys that rows crew at fancy colleges, or like one of those pretty-boy pro quarterbacks. I gave him a once over and frowned slightly. The only thing that even said “cop” about the guy was the fact that he was leaning against a Loggersville patrol car. He wasn’t in uniform either, just jeans and button-up plaid shirt.
The gun holstered at his hip said cop alright, though.
“Mornin’,” Axe growled as we all stepped out. “Something I can help you with, officer?”
The big blond guy eyed us, an almost half-smirk on his face. But those eyes were sizing each of us up. Shit, I could tell that from fifteen feet away from the guy.
“You must be Axe.”
Axe’s brow deepened. “Don’t think we’ve been introduced, officer…”
The blond guy cleared his throat, standing from his lean against the squad car.
“Turner. Rowan Turner.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a badge. “Oh, and it’s not officer.”
He smiled thinly.
“It’s Special Agent.”
The five us went a little quiet, and I threw a quick side-glance to Landon, who’s jaw clenched. Shit. The fuck was a Fed doing up here? I mean, hell, with the line-up of the five of us, and all the shit we’d collectively survived in our lives before Blackthorn? It honestly could have been anything, and you could tell that all five of us were bristling at the thought.
Agent Turner just grinned though. “Fellas, I know who most of you are, and I don’t actually give a shit, just so we can get that out of the way. But, seems your little community here might have a problem that’s bigger than you might be able to handle.”
Ryker stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Not sure I follow what you’re talking about, agent.”
Agent Turner sighed, raking his fingers over his jaw before shoving them through his blond hair.
“You know, Ryker, if we could cut through the bullshit, we might just be able to help each other.”
“Need some work done on your car? That it?” Stone muttered, cracking his knuckles.