Twist the Knife (Lost Kings MC #24)

“Uh—”

“He’s at Furious, he’ll never know your butt cheeks touched the leather,” Murphy jokes, correctly reading my hesitation.

“Touch this.” I flip him off and drop into the seat, stretching out my legs.

Murphy throws himself into his chair and spins it in a half circle like he’s five.

Rock pins me with a hard stare. “Don’t worry about Quill now. Let’s focus on getting everyone to Digger’s memorial and home, then we’ll worry about whatever fuckery is going on out there.”

“Club first,” I say.

A savage smile crosses Rock’s face. “Right.”

Teller slides his gaze to Murphy. “Don’t get your briefs in a knot?—”

“I’m not wearing briefs.” Murphy rubs his hand over his crotch. “Heidi says it could inhibit sperm production.”

I burst out laughing. Rock groans. Teller just glares at Murphy.

“What?” Murphy’s eyes widen like he’s the poster boy for innocence. “She wants to try for a boy next.”

“Christ, don’t you have enough kids, yet?” I ask.

Murphy side-eyes me. “No.”

Ignoring the spermicidal detour, Rock focuses on Teller. “What were you going to say?”

“What if Eraser is working with Quill? Griff and Remy said there haven’t been any issues but what if it’s because they all know what Quill’s up to.”

“No. Griff wouldn’t have lied right to my face about it.” Murphy shakes his head. “Remy wouldn’t either.”

“Griff said Quill’s out there to race, that’s it,” I say. “Doesn’t party with them or anything. Remy says Quill always wins his races.” I flick my gaze to Teller. “So if he’s trying to wash his fake cash through Zips, it’s a shitty way to do it. The couple of bucks he pays for the entrance fees isn’t going to move the amount of paper his family’s operation is known for.”

Rock stares at me for so long, I wonder if I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“Good point,” he finally says. “You think he’s looking to earn their respect.”

“Yes.” I nod quickly. “But why?”

“Yeah, I don’t see a city boy like Quill caring about the opinions of a bunch of hillbilly fighters racing cars in the backwoods of New York,” Murphy says.

“Who are you calling a hillbilly?” I ask.

Murphy touches both hands to his chest. “Myself too. I’m just sayin’, that’s how he probably sees all of us up here.”

“You might be right. But he thought enough of us to give up one of his crew to set things right with Grinder,” Rock says. “And to ask permission to go through our territory.”

“Well, Chaser made him do that,” Teller says. “But he was supposed to be running his product into Montreal. Johnsonville’s a bit of a detour.”

“Not if he’s running out to visit Chaser,” I point out. “Doing some brotherly bonding and getting some racing in on the way home?”

“That’s possible.” Rock glances at Teller, then Murphy, but I don’t think he’s looking for them to add to the conversation. “Let’s circle back to this after the Deadbranch run.”

Great, can’t wait to go stick my nose in some wannabe cartel kingpin’s business.

The phone on Teller’s desk buzzes. Teller grabs it, glancing at the screen then relaxing. “It’s Cedarwood.”

My skin prickles.