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“Which is why we need to come up with something Oklahoma lacks,” Torch said. “We don’t want to step on any toes when we are new and still growing numbers.”

Kid smirked as he twirled his glass. When did a Bastard worry about that?

Frog’s eyes narrowed as he studied Kid.

“What if I told you someone came to the studio looking for what we specialize in?” Kid said as he met his brother’s intense stare. Holding his eyes, he arched a single brow before turning his attention to Torch and then Frog.

“We barely survived the last turf war,” Torch said. “Do we really want to jump into another one?”

“The Colombians need guns,” Kid announced.

“That’s their problem.” Torch waved a hand while lifting his beer with the other to fill his mouth with a hearty swallow.

“From what I understand,” Kevlar said as he ran a hand through his beard. “The Dixie Dickheads”—he used the nickname for their sister’s boyfriend’s crew—“have an arrangement with the Irish after the Colombians brought the contract on Harper’s head to the table. You remember Harper, don’t you?”

Kid rolled his eyes. “Don’t fuck around.” He shook his head. “Frog and Torch may not know, but you and I do. The Colombians weren’t the ones who wanted her dead. They were merely the negotiator to get Diesel’s dirty work done. They are opportunists. Always were. Always have been.”

Torch choked on his beer.

The finer details for how and why the Roughneck Riders fell wasn’t common knowledge. Especially to their own members, like their ginger-haired brother. For him, it was a power struggle gone awry. The inevitable conclusion to a powder keg next to a flame.

“What makes you think we can trust them?” Frog asked.

“Can we truly trust anyone?” Kid countered. “Aren’t we all just a bunch of lying, cheating, stealing assholes trying to make a buck?”

Frog snorted.

“Doing business of this type with the Colombians will put us at odds with the Dixie Mafia,” Kevlar pointed out.

Kid shrugged. “Maybe, but do we answer to them?”

Kevlar’s expression hardened.

“All I’m saying is, they have come to us looking for what we have.” Kid surveyed the table. “I vote we should hear them out. See what they are offering. Maybe it’s worth Paul and Harper being pissed at us. Have we ever cared about that before? Why would we now?”

Frog pursed his lips and fixed his gaze on his glass.

Torch ran both of his hands through his thick copper hair.

Kevlar filled his mouth with beer as he stared at the wall.

“A discussion isn’t a commitment,” Frog said.

“I’m not sure I like this.” Torch sighed. “I don’t want to fall back on what we did as Riders. That shit was messy, and we just secured an alliance with the Dixie guys. Giving them the finger and doing deals with the Colombians doesn’t feel right. We need friends right now.”

“We need money,” Kid said as he glared at his brother.

Kevlar licked his bottom lip. “We’ll talk to them,” he declared. “But not until after the Halloween thing. Let us see if we can get some recruitment under our belts, some prospects out of the deal before we butt heads with our only friends.”

“We could always make new ones.” Kid winked.

30

Carrie

The Halloween party was days away. All the pieces of Carrie’s costume had finally arrived. There wasn’t an opportunity to replace items if they didn’t work, so she needed a dress rehearsal to see if what she had imagined could be made into reality.

Pursing her lips, she studied the items laid out on her bed. So many layers. If she could pull this getup off though, this would be epic. The best costume she’d ever attempted. In her opinion, at least.