Craving Trix (The Aces' Sons 1)

“Okay,” she mumbled as I pressed my mouth to hers, slipping my tongue between her lips for a small taste.

I walked her to her car when she was ready to go and gave her another quick kiss as soon as she’d climbed in. “Be good,” I ordered as I slammed her car door shut.

She was barely out of the parking lot before my mind was on the meeting I had to get to at the club.

* * *

“Hulk—in here with us, boyo,” Poet called as I grabbed a bottle of water from the stacks Vera was making the prospects pull out of her car.

“Costco run?” I asked, as she smiled at me. “Glad I’m done with that shit.”

“Get back here and help, you’re like a damn packhorse!” Vera called back, her hands on her hips.

“Can’t! Busy!” I laughed as she flipped me off and stepped inside the darkened main room. I made my way past the bar to the room beyond, pausing at the doorway.

“Gonna have to stand,” Grease called out. “No spot at the table for you yet.”

“Fuck off,” I shot back, stepping inside the room and letting the door close behind me.

“We all here? Good.” Slider said tiredly. “Spent the night with Mack’s old lady at the hospital. Someone ran him off the fuckin’ road last night on his way home.”

I clenched my jaw against the need to ask why no one had called me. That was bullshit. Everyone should have been up there with them. That’s what we did. We fucking rallied. I glanced around the room and noticed my dad was furious, too.

“Before you go pissin’ and moanin,’ I didn’t call ya because his woman’s fuckin’ skittish and she was a mess last night. Last thing she needed was a bunch of bikers crowdin’ up the waiting room.”

“Could’ve at least given us a head’s up,” Dragon said quietly, leaning forward in his chair to brace his elbows on the table.

“Decision was made and now it’s over,” Slider replied steadily.

“Don’t know who it was,” Poet said, running his hand down his beard. It was finally getting long like he’d had it when I was a little guy, before he’d gotten back together with his wife and shaved it all off. “Young, though. Preppy. Mack remembered that much.”

Young?

“How bad?” Casper finally asked.

“Broke both his legs, one hip. Had to do surgery this mornin’,” Slider answered.

“Fuck,” Grease sighed.

Slider’s eyes met mine. “You hear anything new about the Wunderlich twins?”

I frowned in confusion. “No.”

“Only clean cut boys I can think of,” Slider said, still watching me.

The Wunderlichs were smalltime. The father and sons lived down south and had a pretty good thing going, selling designer drugs to college kids. We’d had a couple run-ins with them a few years before, when they’d tried to get a foothold at the University of Oregon, but since then, they’d kept their distance.

“Nah, saw Dan a few months ago when me and Samson went to Ashland. Nothin’ had changed.”

“Fuck,” Poet said sharply. “You got any ideas?”

“Me?” I asked, like an idiot.

“No, the fuckin’ ghost behind ya.”

The men around the table chuckled.

“No,” I said, swallowing hard. “Haven’t heard or seen anything. Don’t know many younger guys that would have the balls.”

“So, we’re back where we started,” Grease said, tapping on the table.

“Maybe it was just some drunk college kids—” I tried to say.

“No coincidences in this world,” Poet cut me off, his face grave. “This is all connected.”

I nodded in agreement, wishing I hadn’t said anything.

“Has anyone talked to Woody?” I asked, trying to redeem myself a little bit.

“He called his mum,” Poet answered with a sigh. “Wouldn’t say where he’s stayin,’ though. Still not answerin’ my calls.”

“Shit. I’ll try again, too.”

“We callin’ everyone in?” Dragon interrupted, looking around the table.

“Over a fuckin’ wreck? No,” Slider said.

“Jesus,” Casper murmured, running a hand down his face.

“You got something to say?” Slider asked darkly, staring at my dad.

“Nope. Nothing to say,” he replied flatly.

Slider used the table to push to his feet and walked out without another word, leaving the now completely silent room.

“Fuckin’ bullshit,” Grease mumbled as he got up and left.

The rest of us followed, stuck in our thoughts.

I hated knowing Trix was at school unprotected for the next few hours. It felt wrong, but we had to keep living our lives. There were still classes to attend and cars to fix, even though whoever had been fucking with our informants seemed to be stepping up their game.

I walked out the front door and over to the bay I was working in that day, seeing Will inside. He’d been back a few days after our scuffle in the forecourt, but I hadn’t brought that shit up and he hadn’t, either. His dad could straighten him out—wasn’t my business. It couldn’t be my business—I had bigger shit to deal with. I didn’t have time for whatever was going on with him.