Junkyard War, page 19
I blinked. “Neutral . . .” Goose bumps rose on my flesh. “What did you say?” I willed him to look at me, but he didn’t meet my eyes. “Jagger. Neutral territory?”
“Your own MC.”
“My own motorcycle club . . . ?”
“Yeah. Something like a road house or central clearing house or trading post, autonomous and self-supporting, dealing equally with all the clubs and all of them having access to you. All that’s on the table. All of it. You get to decide your fate, which is about as good as it gets, Little Girl.”
“But how? People die when they walk away from a club.”
“Not always. McQuestion and the prez would have to release you. You’d turn in your kutte. Design your own colors and insignia, your own emblems, draw up your own charter.” He shrugged slightly, still not looking at me. “You’d be president. You’d have to assign a VP, treasurer, sergeant-at-arms. Pick your own enforcers, top guns.”
“Bloooody buggering damn,” I whispered. I wasn’t joining another club. But. My own chapter house or neutral territory. Yeah. One of those. I could be a trading hub, pass-through hub, supply warehouse, a place for negotiations and drinking, I could have a roadhouse, even housing. Guns checked at the gate and no fighting allowed. And I could ban anyone for life if my rules were broken. My rules. Cupcake could be my chief negotiator. I could make money. I could . . .
Turn in my old kutte.
The cold turned into a shiver. I’d not be OMW anymore, and I was OMW to the core.
Except that . . . Yeah.
Pops had foreseen this possibility. It’s why he’d sent me this direction, giving me the junkyard in his will, his best gift among the papers delivered to me after his death.
When Jagger spoke again, his tone was different. More stilted, laced with a forced casual-ness. “And. Uh.” He moved a little to the side so his face was turned away slightly. “Because of that proposed status change, McQuestion released me from service and gave me club retirement.”
I blinked again. “People don’t retire from OMW.”
“It was added to the charter at the end of the war. Members who survived major battles with honor are offered retirement. Such as it is.”
“Meaning it’s not fishing at the beach or moving to Hawaii so much as gaining a little more freedom?”
“A lot more freedom, but yeah. More or less. I was offered retirement after the Battle of Mobile. Turned it down. I took it this time.” His mouth quirked down fast before he controlled whatever that reaction had been. “And then McQuestion told me that my job would be to get the new, temporary chapter house—or whatever you put together—up to standards.” His eyes flicked to me and away. His mouth relaxed and turned up in a small smile. “And locate and catalogue your supplies, especially the military gear. He seemed to think my retirement would best be used as your enforcer.”
“You know I’m not showing you my stuff.”
For some reason that made Jagger happy. “I waited until he signed the papers retiring me before I told him he’d made a mistake. He should have just released me provisionally from being his top enforcer, not released me from active duty. When the papers were signed, I reminded McQuestion about a few other clauses in national club laws authorized after the Battle of Mobile. Once I’m retired, I’m my own man. McQuestion can’t have it both ways, and returning to an active role in the club is up to me, not him.” Jagger tilted his head back and forth as if considering and added, “Barring us all going to war again.”
“And?”
“And he tried to tear up the papers. I told him to go fuck himself.”
Bloody hell. “And how did all that go over?”
“He was pissed. Bashed in the teeth of his own new enforcer for not telling him that. Big Dick McKraken wanted my job and didn’t offer the correct advice. Big Dick now has very few front teeth, and Oil Man Durbage now has my old job.” Jagger seemed to find all that amusing.
“Once the other club leaders heard about my position change, people started bashing heads. Couple people got shot before things calmed down again.”
“Wish I’d been a fly on that wall.”
“I got the vid for later. Maybe one night after some more hot sweaty sex we can watch movies in bed.”
I suddenly felt all better. “Popcorn and movies sounds nice, but McQuestion screwed up twice: letting you have retirement and giving up the junkyard.”
His brown eyes finally turned to me, waiting, something amused and tender in their depths.
“You’re free. And no matter which option I choose, Smith’s won’t be just a junkyard anymore.” The clubs were boxing me in, caging me. But they also wanted me. It had been a long time since I had been wanted for me, and for the service I provided. It had been a long time since I felt a case of the warm fuzzies. This odd feeling might be that sensation.
And Jagger. Free. Wanting me.
I needed to study the OMW laws amended after the Battle of Mobile. I wondered if Jolene had a lawyer mode.
Spy took that moment to jump up onto the med-bay and step into my lap. She curled into a ball and started purring. Maul followed, still stiff and moving gingerly, but healing. He curled up at my side and yawned. It seemed my warm fuzzies included cats. I let my injured hand slide to Spy’s head and said, “Thank you.” I looked at Jagger and repeated the thanks.
“Don’t thank me yet. The clubs don’t know about Mateo planning to bomb the bunker.”
My face must have done something, because he smiled slightly. “Yeah. They may shoot you when you tell them that. Or go to war over you. Or stab each other in the back over you. Which may account for the attack at the junkyard. So we should take precautions on the way home.”
“Son of a bitch. The clubs are gonna ambush us, aren’t they?”
“Some might. Most likely. But we’ll get home.”
My heart warmed at his use of the word home. As if he meant it for real, and not because he was a thrall.
“And I have to say, Little Girl, being with you won’t be boring.”
About The Author
Faith Hunter
Faith Hunter is the New York Times bestselling author of the Jane Yellowrock series, the Soulwood series, the Rogue Mage series, and the Junkyard Cats series.
www.faithhuter.net
facebook.com/official.faith.hunter
Books by Faith Hunter
The Jane Yellowrock Series
SKINWALKER
BLOOD CROSS
MERCY BLADE
RAVEN CURSED
DEATH’S RIVAL
BLOOD TRADE
BLACK ARTS
BROKEN SOUL
DARK HEIR
SHADOW RIGHTS
COLD REIGN
THE JANE YELLOWROCK WORLD COMPANION
DARK QUEEN
SHATTERED BONDS
TRUE DEAD
FINAL HEIR
Compilations:
BLOOD IN HER VEINS
OF CLAWS AND FANGS
The Soulwood Series
BLOOD OF THE EARTH
CURSE ON THE LAND
FLAME IN THE DARK
CIRCLE OF THE MOON
SPELLS FOR THE DEAD
RIFT IN THE SOUL
The Rogue Mage Series
BLOODRING
SERAPHS
HOST
THE ROGUE MAGE RPG PLAYERS HANDBOOK
THE ROGUE MAGE RPG GAME MASTER’S GUIDE
Anthologies:
TRIALS (e-book)
TRIBULATIONS (e-book)
TRIUMPHANT (Omnibus of TRIALS and TRIBULATIONS)
The Junkyard Cats Series
JUNKYARD CATS
JUNKYARD BARGAIN
JUNKYARD WAR
JUNKYARD ROADHOUSE (2024)
Faith Hunter, Junkyard War
