“Doubtful.” Chaser wraps an arm around her shoulders and hugs her to his side.
“Angelina’s supposed to call me later with an update.” She checks her phone quickly before tucking it away in her purse.
Dawson straightens and clears his throat. “Is your daughter close to your father, Mallory?”
Like a wolf sensing another predator too close to his territory, Chaser’s eyes narrow at Dawson’s innocuous question. Mallory either doesn’t notice or ignores her husband’s reaction. “She’s closer to Chaser’s dad.”
“She still live at home with you?” Dawson asks.
Mallory laughs softly. “I can’t get either of them to leave the nest for good. One leaves and the other returns.”
“We have created a nice nest for them,” Chaser adds.
Mallory leans in and runs her fingers over his arm. “That’s true.”
“You ride, Dawson?” Rooster asks.
“Nothing like the miles you guys put on your machines, but yeah. Got a sweet FLHXS Street Glide in the garage.”
Rooster and Chaser share a smirk.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dawson says. “I know it’s a crime to keep it locked away.”
“Don’t let him fool you.” Mallory touches Chaser’s arm again. “He has a collection of bikes in our garage that haven’t seen a road in eons.”
A teasing smile twitches at the corners of Chaser’s mouth. “Not quite the same.”
“What do you do up there in the winter?” Dawson asks.
“Look at them longingly,” Mallory jokes.
“She’s not wrong.” Chaser laughs. “No, we’ll ride as long as it’s safe. Then the club gets together and winterizes everything before putting ’em away until spring.” He glances at Rooster and raises an eyebrow.
“Same,” Rooster confirms. “Although, the weather’s been milder longer the last few years. Can ride right up to mid to late December if you have the right gear.”
“Brrr.” Dawson fake shivers. “Don’t know how you can stand it.”
“You should ride down to Florida for one of the rallies with us.” Chaser leans over and slaps Rooster’ shoulder. “We’ve ridden some of the way with you guys a few times now. It’s a good time.”
“I’ve been invited to perform at one of those rallies. Couple times now,” Dawson says. “Timing never works out.’ He hesitates before adding, “Not sure I’d be their flask of whiskey either.”
“Nah, you’d be all right.” Chaser touches his chest, then points to Rooster. “If you’re riding with one of our clubs, no one’s gonna fuck with you.”
“Was that bad—Dawson asking about the relationship between the two clubs?” I ask Rooster on the way back to Dawson’s place.
“Bad? No. Shrewd, yeah.” Rooster nods thoughtfully. “Dawson’s no fool.”
“But wasn’t it sort of club business?”
“Nothing law enforcement doesn’t already know if they’ve been watching us for a while. Like Chaser said, our clubs go way back. I’m sure FBI, ATF, and every other alphabet agency with a ‘gang task force’ has a notation in their file about our association.” He shrugs. “It’s not a secret.”
I set aside the fact that my boyfriend’s club is of interest to federal agencies to consider later. “But Dawson’s a musician. Pretty far removed from biker…politics,” I say for lack of a better word.
“I think bikers and rock stars mix more than anyone realizes,” Rooster says.
“Hmm. Seems so.”
“Fuck, in Chaser’s case the two worlds must collide every decade or so.” Rooster shrugs.
If he’s not concerned, I guess I don’t need to be either.
“And Mallory’s father?” I ask. “You said she didn’t grow up in an MC but…”
“DeLova? He’s big-time Russian Mafia.”
My eyes bug out. “But she’s so sweet.”
“Well,” a hard smile lifts the corners of his mouth, “her dad definitely isn’t.”
“Wait, how do you know him?” A gasp escapes my lips. “Does your club do business with the Russian Mafia? Does Chaser? Oh my God.”
Rooster chuckles way too casually for the question I posed. Which means the answer is probably yes.
“One does not talk about these things, Shelby.”
“Don’t be cute with me.”
He sighs. “We haven’t worked with her dad in a while. I can’t say what Chaser does with his club. Not my business. As far as I know, her dad’s retired. He’s old as fuck. Probably a miracle he’s still alive with all the people he’s pissed off over the years.”
“Huh.” I mull that over. “Chaser asked me if I want to work with his daughter. Since Trent’s not here.”
“Is she a musician?”
“I don’t know. He said she’s talented, but of course he’s going to say that about his kid. Said she’s helped him out before.”
“Sure, growing up with a musician for a father, she probably knows stuff.”
“He said we have similar ways of thinking and he thinks we’d get along. I’m not quite sure what he meant, though.”
“I’d take it as a compliment.”
“Oh, totally. I just wondered if I should’ve kept my trap shut during our session.”
“Sounds like Dawson appreciated your honesty.”
“I guess so.” I stare out the window as Rooster approaches the gates to Dawson’s compound.
The overwhelming sensation that I’m navigating my way through a darkened forest with no map tickles at the edge of my mind. Working with Dawson. Maybe writing songs with someone new. It’s exciting and terrifying to navigate.