Off Limits (Kings of Mayhem MC 5)

Like now.

“When you called you said you had some information about Roger Toombs,” Bull said.

Roger Toombs was the number-one suspect in the disappearance of Kayla Jenkins, a twelve-year-old girl who went missing seven years earlier. You didn’t live in Destiny and not know the heart-churning story. She disappeared while playing in her backyard while her mom, a hardworking single mother, was inside fixing supper. Despite never finding her body, it didn’t take long for law enforcement to piece it all together and find Roger Toombs.

The piece of shit had previously attempted to coerce young girls into his van.

Unfortunately, a series of perfect catastrophes meant Roger was never charged with her abduction, even though he was clearly responsible. When the law couldn’t get him, Kayla’s mom approached the Kings of Mayhem with three-hundred dollars in crumpled bills and a white gold watch with a diamante missing from the face, as payment. She wanted justice for Kayla. And she wanted us to get it for her.

I was visiting from New Orleans at the time. It was the anniversary of my sister’s death, and back then I liked to ride out to Destiny and spend it with Bull if time permitted. I was sitting at one of the barbecue tables at the clubhouse when Donna Jenkins arrived, looking red-eyed and at the end of her rope. I listened to her story, empathizing with her heartbreak and wanting nothing more than to pull every tooth from Roger Toombs’s mouth. One. At. A. Fucking. Time.

I became her contact in the club. The person she would call and spill everything to when the days got particularly long or particularly hard, and it wasn’t long before I was promising we would get justice for her beloved daughter.

But Toombs disappeared before we could get to him. He skulked away in the dead of night and we later found out that he was hiding out in South America. But he also had an elderly mom in town, and we always suspected he would sneak back into the country to see her one day.

Apparently, today was that day.

Prior to Kayla’s disappearance, Toombs was a regular at the Slip ‘n Slide, which was known as The Slippery Pole back then. Spider was under explicit instructions to let us know if he heard any murmurs through the seedy underground grapevine if Toombs was back in town.

“You boys sure you don’t want a dance. It’s on the house. The drinks, too. Got to look after my friends. So, what do you want? Name your poison. We got Jack, Jimmy, and Johnny. All the J’s. Or… or perhaps you want something a little more?”

Spider was a weasel. And he was stalling.

Bull leaned forward and removed his dark glasses, fixing his supernatural blue eyes on our host. Bull had an acute eye condition that forced him to wear dark glasses all the time. It also gave him eyes the color of a Hollywood demon, which unnerved a lot of people. He was a big guy. Fierce and formidable, and his otherworldly glare only added to his intimidating presence. Add to that a dangerously low voice with dark undertones. “Roger Toombs. Where is he?”

“Ah, shit, Bull,” Spider whined reluctantly. “He’s in one of the peep show rooms.”

I stood up with a rush. “You mean he’s here?”

Spider looked nervous. “Now before you boys get all excited, I don’t want no trouble like the last time.”

The last time involved Bull, Matlock, and me shooting up one of the private rooms when we came to question a patron about his involvement in the assault of Matlock’s sister. The idiot decided to pull a weapon, so we pulled three and put him in the hospital.

I stormed over to Spider. “That piece of shit murdered a little girl and you’re worried about us messing up one of your rooms? Where is he, Spider? Tell me now or I swear to God I will push all those stinking yellow teeth of yours so far down your throat you’ll be shitting enamel for weeks.”

Spider shoved his hands up to placate me. “I know, I know. He’s scum. But come on, Ruger, it costs me a lot of money when you guys come in here and question my customers.”

I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and shoved my gun under his chin. “I don’t think you heard me right, Spider. That piece of shit murdered a little girl. Now… so I don’t kick in every single motherfucking door in this joint, I repeat, where the fuck is he?”

Spider stammered. His eyes danced over my face, weighing how far he could push me before I shot him. Would I? Or wouldn’t I? He didn’t know me well enough. I might just be crazy enough to do it.

He sighed. “He’s in cubicle four.”

I let him go and brushed past him.