Page 5 of Joker

“Then I definitely don’t like it.”

His mouth kicks at one corner, but it’s brief. “Louisiana chapter called.”

That gets my attention. Not a lot, but enough.

We’ve had more contact with outside chapters lately than usual thanks to the Savage Knights mess. Patch-overs, old grudges, people choosing sides, information moving faster than bullets some days. It’s settled down now, at least on the surface, but there’s still shit rattling around underneath. There always is.

“Okay,” I say. “And?”

“And they need us to return a favor.”

I take another drink, letting the silence stretch a second. “What kind of favor?”

“The kind where you drive down there, pick something up, and bring it back.”

I wait.

Logan waits me out.

That only irritates me more. “What am I picking up?”

He folds his arms over his chest. “You don’t need to know.”

I bark out a dry laugh. “That’s comforting.”

Shadow finally speaks from the corner. “You asked. He answered.”

I cut him a look. “I don’t remember asking for your help.”

“That’s probably because you’re still half asleep.”

I would tell him to go fuck himself, but I know exactly what he’s doing. Taking some of the edge off before I get too locked in on Logan’s bullshit. It’s almost thoughtful, which is disturbing enough that I decide not to acknowledge it.

I look back at Logan. “You’re sending me six hours out to Louisiana, alone, to pick up some mystery package, and you’re acting like this is completely normal.”

“No extra brothers,” he continues, like I didn’t speak. “No stop to make a social call, no detours, no noise. You go there, you pick it up, and you bring it back quiet.”

That narrows exactly nothing and tells me everything I need to know about how little he intends to explain.

I sit back in the chair and let my mind run through possibilities because if he’s keeping it this tight, there’s a reason.

Cash, maybe. A transfer nobody wants attached to bank records and paper trails. That wouldn’t be the first time a chapter needed money moved without questions.

Intel is another option. A file, a hard drive, names, locations, evidence somebody doesn’t want turning up in the wrong hands. The kind of thing better carried by someone trusted than transmitted over anything that can be intercepted.

Weapons is possible too, though less likely if he’s only sending one bike, one man. Still, it wouldn’t shock me. Guns disappear and reappear all the time in our world, usually with less fuss than people.

Whatever it is, Logan is being too careful for it to be routine.

I set the mug on the desk with a soft thud. “What makes me your guy?”

“I trust you to do what I tell you.”

“That sounds flattering.”

“It’s not meant to be.”

Blaze snorts behind me, and I ignore him.