Train
I walked into the club house and stalled. "What the fuck is that supposed to be?"
Katie Jason turned from the giant, unstable looking stack of donuts and scowled. "That is a donut tower in the shape of a cake.
I squinted.
"Does it not look like a donut tower in the shape of a cake?" she asked, unable to hide the panic in her voice.
"Do you think it looks like a cake?"
She glanced at it, then and scowled. "Goddammit."
"Why are you trying to do this, sweetheart?" I teased. "Your specialty is the human body, not baked goods."
Katie was the twin sister of my closest friend, Flea. He was my club brother and we’d patched in together, so that basically made her my sister. Flea and I were often put together on runs, and club assignnts, particularly if they called for both brains and brawn.
I was the brawn.
Katie threw her hands in the air. "Razor’s never had a birthday cake and his favorite thing in the world is a glazed donut from Top O’ the Morning Donuts, so I thought I could incorporate the two." She scowled at the leaning tower of pastry. "YouTube makes everything look so fucking easy."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why are you making such a fuss over that puppy?"
"He is a puppy," she retorted. "But he’s a sweet puppy and he deserves a nice birthday. Don’t read into it."
Razor was twenty-five and had been a patch for about four years or so. Pretty much all of the club won had taken him into their hearts and mothered the fuck out of him.
"You think about asking Caron for help?"
Caron was one of our president’s brothers. He ran a construction company (with their other siblings) when he wasn’t working as a chef.
She sighed. "I’ve already called him. I was just hoping I could figure it out without him."
I crossed my arms and cocked my head. "Well, I’m thinkin’ your hope is for naught."
"Suck it," she retorted, and I laughed.
"Sorry, babe. Just sayin’ it like it is."
"Save it for soone else."
"You seen Hatch?"
"He’s in his office I think," she said distractedly, trying to straighten the leaning tower of donuts.
I left her to her chore and headed down the hall to my president’s office, knocking on the closed door.
"Co in," Hatch called, and I stepped inside finding him with his feet up on the desk, smiling at Harmony Quinn.
Harmony was married to Jaxon Quinn, the biological brother of two of my club brothers, Ace and Knight. Jax was FBI, but he was good people, and although he was a by-the-book lawman, he knew when to keep his distance from club business which kept us in his good graces.
"Train!" she exclaid, jumping to her feet, and rushing to hug .
"Hey, sweetheart, where’s your man?"
"It’s Quinn brother manly-man ti," she said.
I gave her a chin lift. The Quinn brothers made it a point to get together once a month for gas, beers, 80’s action movies. It was strictly no chicks allowed, so the wives usually hung out over at Ace’s place.
I glanced at Hatch. "You texted you needed , but I can co back if you two are busy."
"The text was on my behalf, actually," Harmony said.
I cocked my head. "You coulda just called direct, sweetheart."
"No, she couldn’t," Hatch countered, and Harmony grimaced. "Trying to keep this as quiet as possible for now."
"Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good," I said.
Hatch waved to the chair next to Harmony. "Have a seat."
I closed the door and sat down, waiting for Harmony to sit beside .
"I need your help," Harmony said.
"Anything. You know that," I said.
She flashed an uneasy smile. "You know my sister, lody?"
"Um, yeah," I said with a chuckle.
Harmony’s sister, lody Morgan, was one of the biggest pop stars in the world and a notorious whirling dervish of chaos. I’d never t her, but from the stories I’d heard in the dia and from Harmony herself, she seed like a real handful. Honestly, I had a hard ti understanding how Harmony and their other sister, Lyric, dealt with her. They were so even keeled, and their famous sister was more like the Titanic.
"lody is about to start her next tour," Harmony said. "But she’s got a bit of a problem."
"I thought you didn’t work for your sister anymore."
"I don’t, but she’s asked for my assistance with sothing sensitive and I thought you might be able to help."
"?" I was completely puzzled as to how I could possibly help a ga-star whom I’d never t.
"I’ll tell you but first I need you to sign this," Harmony said, pointing to a docunt on Hatch’s desk.
"What’s this?"
"A non-disclosure agreent," she said, handing a pen.
"You want to sign an NDA?" I chuckled. "Are you serious?"
"I already gave her my John Hancock," Hatch said.
"Why does everything you say sound dirty?" Harmony teased.
"It’s a gift, babe," Hatch replied with his trademark eyebrow lift.
Harmony turned back to . "Don’t take the NDA personally. I already trust you completely, but lody’s lawyers don’t know you and still wouldn’t trust you even if they did."
"I thought Lyric was her lawyer," I said.
"Lyric’s one of six," Harmony countered. "And she’s the least of the worriers."
"No worries," I said and scribbled my signature on the line above my na. "So, what’s the big secret, and how can I possibly help the world-famous lody Morgan?"
"Well, like I said. She’s kicking off her tour in Portland in four days but was forced to fire her guitarist under so hairy circumstances. She’s twisted up over the whole thing, and I need soone that I can trust to fill the position that isn’t going to make matters worse. Soone who can play guitar like a motherfucker, keep his mouth shut to the dia, and help keep an extra eye on her as well."
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