“His name’s Brett Marsch,” Chad said with a sigh. “He scammed a bunch of the residents at the nursing home.”
Chad’s mom was forty-nine when she’d had him. He was the second youngest of twelve kids—good old Catholic family. It was probably ten years later when she got dementia, and I knew things had gone downhill after that. Chad’s dad had been hitting the bottle harder and harder every day, and somehow checking in with Mama Gold had become Chad’s job, or he felt it was. His older sisters visited their mom regularly too.
“He pretended to volunteer there, and he opened credit cards in a bunch of their names before skipping town.”
I gestured to the guy. “How’d he get here?”
Chad grimaced. “I might’ve told him to get his ass back here or I’d go after his woman. I heard he had someone here.”
Moose swore under his breath.
Fucking hell. There went my good mood. “What do you mean?”
We didn’t threaten women or kids. That was a solid rule for us.
He winced again. “I know. I know. I never meant it.”
We were the New Kings Crew, and we didn’t bluff. Ever. That was our reputation. And it was solid too.
He held his hands up, hissing as he tried to open his fingers all the way. “But I wouldn’t have followed through, or…” His head hung down. “I would’ve figured a way to not make it so bad. But it worked.” He gestured to the guy. “He came back to town. Moral dilemma closed.”
I could’ve… No, I did.
I punched him in the face.
He went down. Thud. It was an abrupt drop.
Moose didn’t react, only raising an eyebrow.
Chad didn’t get up. He rolled to his back, watching me warily.
I pointed to the door. “Get out of here. Get out of town while you’re at it.” I nodded toward the guy. “I doubt your mom and the other residents were the first and only people he’s scammed, and I doubt he’s alone.”
Everyone had a team in Roussou. If you didn’t, you got swallowed up. You get tough, or you get the fuck out.
“Can I come back in?” Congo hollered from outside the door.
He sounded sheepish, but still pissed, and those mixed tones were enough to make us all pause. We shared a grin. Moose was the biggest, towering over us at six feet five inches and generally looking like he could eat boulders for every meal, and Congo was a smaller version of him. Both were bald. Only Congo was the shortest in our crew at five six. That didn’t affect how tough he was.
“Yeah,” I called.
He looked down as he came in. “Sorry. I was worked up.”
Moose began explaining. “Chad brought the guy here and—”
Congo cut in, “He wasn’t answering his questions quick enough, so I…”
I nodded, knowing how the guy had gotten beat so badly.
Chad was asking the questions. The guy wasn’t answering. Congo got mad, starting hitting him, and then Chad took on Congo. Moose probably sat back and ate popcorn.
What was I doing still thinking I wasn’t qualified to raise a teen? I already had two others right here.
“I stopped Congo from going too far,” Chad concluded.
I nodded, hearing my guess affirmed.
“Congo didn’t like being stopped, so those two roughed each other up after that. They were at it till you got here.”
I raised my eyebrows at Congo. “Couldn’t settle?”
Guilt flared briefly before he locked it down. “My grandmum’s in that nursing home too. If she could talk, he would’ve swindled her too.”
The guys quieted after they’d said their bit.
“Okay.” I nodded toward the door. “You guys think your hands need stitches?”
They both looked down, flexed their hands, and winced.
Chad replied, “I’m fine.”
Congo nodded. “Me too.”
I jerked my head again. “Head to the bar then. Check in with Scratch.”
“What are you going to do?” Chad frowned.
“Credit cards?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“So those can be turned off and reported as a scam, right? Your mom’s credit is fine.”
“Yeah, but—”
He wanted answers. I’d get that for him, but I didn’t need to worry one of my guys would end up in prison for manslaughter.
I jabbed my finger at the door. “Go. I’ll take care of him.”
Congo was already there. He paused, waiting for Chad, who followed him out, but slowly and with his head down, and not before staring at the guy for another minute.
“We’ll take care of it.” Moose moved toward both of them, urging them out. He disappeared through the door after them, but a moment later, he came back in.
He moved to stand next to me. “What are you planning?”
I studied the guy. “Help me get him to your truck.”
We’d deal with him, but he needed medical help first.
He grunted, and together, we lifted him, taking him to the back of Moose’s truck. He closed the tailgate as I went around and locked up the warehouse.
He was staring at one of the bikes when I came back out.
“I heard Dex Richter is trying to patrol Roussou,” he said.
I grunted this time.
I hadn’t told him about my last run-in with Richter. I would, just not now.
I tapped the back of Moose’s truck. “Take him to the hospital. Make sure Rena is working. She’ll know how to handle him.” I pulled out a bill and handed it over. Sometimes a bribe was the best way. “For her silence.”
“Where are you going?”
I flashed him a grin, going to my truck. “I’ve got a delinquent to track down.”
“You could’ve sent the guys to find her.”
I shook my head, getting inside. “Nah. This time I want to find her on my own.” I held up two fingers as my truck roared past him. “I’m out, brother.”
10
Channing
There were three places my sister could’ve been.
One was sleeping at Jordan’s place—he was the leader of her crew. He had a storage building, similar to my warehouse, but it was at his family’s place. Edging down his driveway to the building, I didn’t see her truck there. I didn’t want to deal with any questions, so I eased right back up the driveway, turning my lights on as I cleared the woods around their land.
Another spot was her best friend’s house.
Bren and Cross Shaw were best friends like Heather and I had been growing up—minus the sex, at least as far as I knew. Heather and I had started doing it early, way too early, but the last I’d heard, Bren and Cross were still just friends. That was a conversation I wasn’t sure I wanted to have with her—not that she would participate. I imagined me sitting there, explaining what it meant if a bee’s stinger went inside the female bee and how little bees were created, and that whole scenario seemed so wrong.
Bren was smart. She’d practically raised herself because I knew our dad had been worthless the last few years, and while she’d had a boyfriend for some of that time, she hadn’t gotten pregnant.
Heather told me she’d seen Bren buying condoms, so at least safe sex was a topic I didn’t need to cover.
Fuck. Did I?
When I arrived at the Shaw house, I didn’t see his truck or my sister’s, so that meant she was at the third place.
I didn’t know if Bren knew I knew about this last one.