Page 10 of Legacy
“I mean, who are we going to have a quiet word with?” He chuckled.
“The Hunters.”
He blew out a breath. “Lead the way then, brother. Never liked those fuckers anyway.”
***
“They ain’t here.” The woman on the door of the sleazy strip club the Hunters owned was a skinny thing with too much eye makeup and a shrill voice. “And no, you can’t wait.” Her eyes raked over my leather cut and her lip curled in contempt. She was judging us and that was fine. We were judged all the time. Some of the stories about us were true, most of them didn’t even come close, but to see her put her nose up at us when the club she stood at was infamous for barely legal, drugged up dancers was a kick in the balls.
The Sons were many things, but we didn’t peddle kids.
“Any idea where they are?” I tried to keep my voice level and failed. The threat in it couldn’t be ignored. Her eyes widened and the first hint of fear darkened them.
“What business do the Sons have with my boys?”
I raised an eyebrow at Pocket, and he shrugged his mammoth shoulders. He had no idea what she was talking about, either. The woman in front of us was older. Mutton dressed as a lamb. But she didn’t look old enough to be their mother. And if she was, then she would have been a young teen when she’d had them.
The thought made me sick.
“None of that is any of your business,” Pocket said softly when I failed to answer.
I couldn’t get my head around the fact that she was their mother. I didn’t know what I had expected, but the rejected stripper wannabe certainly wasn’t it.
She rapped sharply tapered nails on the door frame before answering. “The Sons have no business with my boys.”
I hated threatening a woman, but sometimes they didn’t give me a choice.
“Fine, but you better tell yourboys,” I filled my voice with sarcasm on the final word. “You tell them to stay away from the Morgan family. They are under my protection from here on out. Either one of yourboysso much as breathes in their direction and the next time I see them, it won’t be just to talk.”
She carried on tapping her nails. She didn’t ask any questions, which meant she either knew what had gone on or she simply didn't care. I didn’t know which one was worse.
“That understood?” Pocket prompted.
She lifted her eyes to him and sniffed. “Under the protection of the Savage Sons, got it.”
I didn’t bother to tell her that's not what I had said. Correcting her was a waste of breath. I turned on my heel and walked up the stairs into the street.
Pocket followed me. “What’s the plan now? You want to try to find them?”
Chewing on my lip, I paused. I wanted to do that, but in a city like London, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. I had to believe that their mother would pass the message on, if only for her own self-preservation.
“Not yet. I want to go and check on Kate, see if she wants lunch.” Once I had said the words, I knew that’s exactly what I wanted to do.
“I guess I’m not invited.” Pocket made a point of looking hurt. It would have been more genuine if he wasn’t a bearded giant, but he gave it his best shot.
“It’s just lunch; you can come. Her work isn’t far from here,” I mumbled. He didn’t ask how I knew that, so I was saved from admitting the truth — that I had been keeping tabs on her for ten years. I knew all the jobs she’d had, every time she had moved house, even the company she kept. That was all too stalkerish to admit out loud.
“You go and take your pretty lady to lunch. Make sure she is okay.” He clasped my arm. “If you need me, call me, brother.”
“I will.” I didn’t bother to tell him she wasn’t my lady. I was too busy getting on my bike.
The place where Kate worked wasn’t far, so it took me less than five minutes to pull up outside her building: a squat warehouse like structure in a fenced compound half full of trucks.
She was outside talking animatedly to one of the drivers, but she looked up when I pulled up, the roar of my bike announcing my arrival. Lifting my hand, I waved a hello and then waited for her to finish her conversation and come over to me. She was at work, and I didn’t want to make things awkward for her.
Plus, it gave me a chance to look at her. Really look at her. It had been less than twelve hours since I had left her home, but she looked different. A day earlier, she had looked distressed, and that wasn’t surprising; today she looked free, like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. I hoped I was a part of that.
“Legacy.” She came padding over, her dress swirling around her knees. “What are you doing here?” She came to a stop beside me. “Is everything okay?” The smile on her face slipped as worry took over her expression.
