Chapter One
SPENCER
“The first rule of Shrike Club is never talk about Shrike Club.”
“Aw, Spencer,” Ronin complains. He’s standing in my new Shrike Bikes office looking out the window that faces into the bays of my new garage. It’s a nice big place, beats the shit out of the old shop in back of my farmhouse in Bellvue. “Stop, man. It’s sad.”
“Yes, I have to agree with Ronin,” Ford says in his dry tone that makes me roll my eyes. Like he’s so mature. “It’s not funny.”
I look over at Carson, the banker-turned-Club member who is helping me keep Veronica out of trouble while the Team cleans up the mess we’ve been dragging behind us for the past several years. “Don’t listen to them. That joke was perfect. And the timing—”
“I don’t get it,” he says.
Ronin drags his attention from the window where he’s keeping a lookout for Rook, and Ford glances up from his computer. “Don’t get what?” we all say together.
“Shrike Club. It’s a joke? I don’t get it.”
I look over at Ford and he’s got his eyebrows up towards the ceiling. “It’s a book,” he says with disbelief.
“Book?” I say, laughing. “Carson”—I grab him by the arm and push him away from Ford—“don’t listen to him. It’s a f**king movie. Fight Club? How could you have never heard of Fight Club?”
He squints his eyes a little. “Yeah, I’ve heard of Fight Club, but I don’t get it.”
“‘The first rule of Fight Club is never talk about Fight Club?’” I ask, still slightly hopeful.
Carson gives me nothing.
“Did you see Fight Club?” Ronin asks.
“No.”
“That’s it,” Ford says, slapping his laptop closed. “We can’t work with a guy who’s never seen Fight Club. It’s absurd. Real men watch Fight Club. It’s like Full Metal Jacket or… or… The Godfather. It’s something we all do as men. Carson.” He pushes past me and stands in front of the banker. “You’re out of the Club. Sorry.”
Ronin turns back to the window and Carson begins to leave.
“Carson, sit the f**k down. You’re not out. He’s joking.”
“He doesn’t look like he’s joking,” Carson replies.
I sigh. Carson is not on the Team. Only Ronin, Rook, Ford, Ashleigh, and me are on the Team. But we have a new JV version of the Team that we’re calling the Club, and Carson is the first official prospect. He’s my spy. I need him. And I need Ronin and Ford to be on board with this.
Rook has been demoted to honorary Team member only. We’re done getting her involved in shit. In fact, all the girls are out. Ashleigh and Rook will not be a part of our little schemes from now on. And Ronnie was never part of the Team, so she’s never even gonna get close to being involved. I need Carson to pull this off, because I’ve got Ronnie working for me as my personal assistant to keep my eye on her without getting too close, and he’s my key to keeping her semi-in love with me until Agent Abelli’s trial is over. Abelli is the FBI ass**le who wrongfully imprisoned Ronin, tortured Rook’s ex-husband, and threatened to sell her to a Columbian drug lord. Most of that happened here in Fort Collins, so the federal judge decided the trial would stay in Colorado.
None of the other defendants require Rook to be a witness because they all made deals. We just have this one trial to get through, then we can put all this bullshit behind us.
“Spencer,” Ronin interrupts my thoughts. “When did you say Rook called? You did hide the keys, right?”
“Ronin, I’m trying to work here. She wants the motorcycle back, let her pick the thing up and bring it here.”
“No,” Ford says emphatically. “Ronin, do not give in. Be strong. She’s much safer with no car and no motorcycle. You never know when she’ll get the urge to go save someone and take off. Take Ashleigh, she walks everywhere. I love it. No car. She’s totally localized. I’ve got no fewer than five guys on her at any one time. She has no clue she’s being guarded day and night. You should let me set this up for Rook too. Ashleigh is predictable, Rook is… not.” He stops and looks over at me. “And Ronnie,” he huffs. “Don’t even get me started on how explosive she is. You need more than this guy to keep her in line, Spencer. Face facts here. This guy is not enough. He’s clueless.”
“Anyway.” I shake my head. “Carson, you will go home tonight and watch Fight Club, got it? That cool with you guys?” I wait.
But Ronin is still peeking through the blinds and Ford is checking his fingernails.
“OK, that’s a yes.”
Ronin turns to object but that’s when I see Rook storming down the aisle, blowing past all my mechanics as she fumes her way towards my office, trailed by a three-man camera crew. “Shit, Ronin. Here she comes.”
Ford pushes Carson until he stumbles backwards and ends up sitting on the edge of a metal table in the corner of the room, then he and I stand in front of him as Ronin takes point.
Rook does not knock. She doesn’t have to, she’s Rook. So she bursts through the door huffing mad. “Ronin,” she says through clenched teeth. “I need those truck keys. I know you told the guys not to give them to me, but I’m going to get that motorcycle right now.”
She stomps her foot and we all laugh. Fucking Rook. She’s adorable.