“I don’t know the full story here. I get it if you’re trying to protect your sister. There’s got to be a better way, though.”
“Like what? The cops?” He snorted. “They won’t do anything until it’s too late.”
“And what will you do?”
His eyes went cold and hard. “I’ll put the fucker in the ground if I have to.”
Goddamn it.
“Your parole?—”
“I’ll be violating it soon enough. Kind of pointless to worry about being a good boy.”
“You can’t help her if you’re sent to prison first,” Ghost said. “Go to your meeting. I’ll keep watch here if you need.”
Tex swept his gaze over the table of guys. “Nah, he’ll be here a few more hours, at least. I’ve been watching him every day. He knows I’m staying with her. He’s been keeping his distance.”
“Maybe it’ll stay that way,” I suggested.
“Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Or maybe it’s a matter of time before he tries some shit again.”
“I know you care about your sister, but she wants you to go.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s worried about me, but I wasn’t the one bruised black and blue when I got to town.”
I looked over at the asshole ex, seeing the situation in a new light. Okay, Tex wanted to take care of his sister and he didn’t think the law could help. We’d have to find another way.
A heaping plate of lobster mac arrived, and Joyride dug in.
“Fuckin’ lobster,” Tex muttered.
I mulled over the problem while Joyride stuffed his face. Try as I might, I couldn’t think of a nice, upstanding way to handle a situation like this. Guys like this only spoke one language.
“Joy, finish up. We’ve got to get Tex to this meeting.”
“Didn’t you hear a word I said?” Tex growled.
“Yep.” I threw a twenty on the table. “Which one is your sister’s ex?”
“Luke’s the one with the stupid haircut.”
“Gotta be more specific than that.”
“The guy with the donkey laugh.”
“Got it. Be ready to leave in a hurry.” I stood and strolled toward the table.
“What are—” Tex started to stand.
“Stay out of it, Tex,” Ghost said, voice hard. “He’s doing this to protect you.”
“I didn’t ask for that!”
I tuned them out as I approached the table where the wife-beating asshole sat with two friends. He brayed another donkey laugh, flicking a dismissive glance toward me.
“What the fuck do you want?”
I grabbed the nape of Luke’s neck, squeezing hard, and leaned in. “I want you to look at something, my man.” I turned his head to put him at eye level with the Serpents tattoo winding around my upper biceps. “See this here? This is my biker tat. Know what that means?”