"Slammer is in back, on the phone," she answered. "He knows we're here to talk about something important. Said he'd be out soon."

"Good," replied Tank.

"Speaking of, I heard you're already planning his bachelor party," I said to him.

Tank nodded. "Yeah. It's in the works. They're eloping in three weeks. December 13th."

"Where they getting hitched?"

"Either Vegas or Hawaii. She wants Hawaii."

"He's never been there, has he?" I asked.

"Hawaii? Just once. After he graduated from high school, his Uncle Shepherd took him out there. As a graduation present. He's been wanting to go back ever since I can remember."

"That was shortly before he joined the Marines and served in Desert Storm, wasn't it?" I asked, remembering the story now.

"Yep. I'm pretty sure they're heading to Maui. He's been looking at vacation packages online."

"You tagging along?" I asked.

"Fuck yeah," he answered, smiling. "You're going, too."

My eyebrows shot up. "Me? I wish I could. I've too much shit going on at the moment. It's not a good time."

"That's why you need to go Hawaii. Leave your troubles behind for a while. Think cocktails, bikinis, sand, and all of us. You'll regret it if you don't fly down there and stay for at least a few days."

I rubbed my chin. "You're right. I should go. I could even take Adriana."

"Or, you could leave her behind," said Tank. "Clear your head of all women for a while."

"Hawaii, huh? I want to go," pouted Cheeks. "I've always wanted to see the volcanos and eat at one of those luaus."

"Sorry, Cheeks," said Tank. "But you don't bring sand to the beach." He turned back to me. "And that's why you should leave yours at home, too. The women out there are supposed to be fuck-tastic."

I smirked. "Fucktastic, huh?"

"Exactly. I'm planning on getting laid the first chance I get, and I'm not talking about those flowers they put around your neck. I'm gonna find me one of those exotic, tight "

"Okay, we get it," said Cheeks, cutting in.

Layla giggled and Tank gave her a sheepish smile. "Men are all fucking pigs. The sooner you learn the better off you are, Apple Pie."

"Apple Pie?" said Layla, her face turning pink. "I like that."

"There you go, I just found you a nickname," he said, winking. "And if anyone touches you inappropriately in this club, you tell me and I'll beat their ass."

She giggled again. "Okay."

Just then, Slammer walked out of his office and approached us, a grave look on his face.

"What's up?" asked Tank. "You look pissed off."

"I'll tell you about it later," he said, turning to Cheeks. "You said you had something to tell me?"

Nodding, she introduced her niece and then explained what Layla had seen at the diner. When she got to the part about Misty and Mud, a vein in Slammer's forehead began to pulsate.

"That fucking cunt," he growled, slamming his fist on the bar, making both of the girls jump. "I should have known. I should have fucking known."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," I said. "Hell, neither of us knew."

"Yeah, but I had this gut feeling about her, especially after she admitted to banging Breaker. Dammit, she's probably been feeding them information about us all along."

"There isn't much she could say," said Tank. "Unless, she's been listening at the door or "

"Or recording us with some kind of listening device," he cut in, a murderous expression on his face. "In fact." Slammer waved his thumb toward the doorway. "Let's go outside and talk. Now I'm all fucking paranoid."

"What about us?" asked Cheeks. "Can we do anything to help?"

He rubbed a hand over his face and then murmured in a low voice, "Actually, yeah. I need you to get over to Griffin's and keep an eye on her, without Layla, of course."

"Okay," she replied, getting off the barstool.

"And obviously, keep this shit under the table. We don't want her to know that we've caught on yet," he added.

"I understand," said Cheeks. She turned to Layla. "Let's go, hon."

"Wait a second." Slammer's eyes softened. He looked at Layla and pulled out his wallet. "Thanks for the information, sweetheart. Why don't you take this and go buy yourself something pretty."

Her eyes lit up as he handed her three hundred dollars. "Oh, my God, this is really all for me?"

Slammer winked at her. "It sure is. Think of it as a reward, and if you ever see any of those assholes in your diner again, give me a call," he replied, handing her a business card.

"I will. Thank you so much, uh, Mr. Slammer."

He chuckled "You can drop the Mister. It's just Slammer."

"Okay," she replied, stuffing the money into her purse. "I'll definitely keep my eyes open for you."

"I know you will." He looked at Cheeks and his smile dropped. "I appreciate you bringing this message to me. Next time, though, don't bring her here. She's too young for this place."

"Aint nothing going on right now," repeated Cheeks, waving her hand. "It's like a morgue in here."

"It's still early, but that's not the point. If shit was going on and we had a raid of some sort, you don't want your niece involved, you know what I'm saying?"

She sighed and nodded.

"I don't want any minors in here. You got that?" he said, looking at us, too.

Nodding, Tank and I looked at each other, a little surprised. I'd noticed that he'd changed considerably after meeting Frannie. The old Slammer wouldn't have cared what age Layla was and he might have even hit on her himself. Obviously, he was getting his own shit together and it made me respect him that much more.

"You want to get together, later this afternoon?" Cheeks asked Tank.

"I don't know. I've got some stuff to take care of," he replied.

"No problem," she smiled. "What about tonight?"

"Maybe. I'll let you know."

She leaned over the bar, slid her arms around his neck, and whispered something into his ear.

He laughed. "How can I say 'no' to that?"

"I was hoping you'd say that. I'll wait for your call," Cheeks said, happy again. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she turned to Layla. "Let's go, Apple Pie."

The girl giggled. "Okay. It was nice meeting you all."

"You too. Come back when you're legal," called Tank, staring at her ass as she followed her aunt out.

Slammer reached into his pocket and took out a pack of smokes and a lighter. He pulled out a cigarette and shoved it between his lips. "Okay, let's go outside and figure shit out."

Tank guzzled the rest of his beer and we followed Slammer to the back of the building.

"So, what are you going to do?" asked Tank, as we stepped outside.

He lit his cigarette. "First I'm going to get this place checked for bugs."

"Why don't we just interrogate Misty now?" replied Tank. "Make her tell us exactly what the fuck is going on."

Slammer blew out a stream of smoke and shook his head. "No. For one thing, Misty might get off on it, the crazy bitch. For another, we might be able to use this to our advantage."

"What do you mean?" I asked, leaning against the door.

"I think we should set 'em up. In fact," he gave us a shit-eating grin. "I think I might know just how to do it."

"Oh yeah? Fill us in," said Tank.

It took him a while to answer. "Let's just say that spying on us is going to send Mud to prison for a very long time, boys."

"Prison. What do you mean?" asked Tank. "I thought I was going to kill the fucker after you were done eloping?"

"Actually, I've been having second thoughts on that," he answered. "The law is watching us closely these days. Killing any of the Devil's Rangers is too risky. I don't want either of you going to jail. I'd rather see Mud behind bars for the rest of his life and knowing exactly who put him there."

"I don't know," he said. "Prison is too easy of a sentence, if you ask me."

"Death is too quick of a sentence," countered Slammer. "We need him to rot behind bars for the rest of his life."

"He's right, brother," I answered. "Mud will suffer more behind bars than he would if you killed him. He's made a lot of enemies and some of them are in prison. Life wouldn't be as easy as you might think for a shit-bag like him."

"Maybe," he answered, not looking too convinced. "So, what's the plan?"

"You'll find out soon enough," answered Slammer, flicking his cigarette away. "I need to make some phone calls and get shit rolling. Once I get the ducks in order and everyone on board, I'll fill you in on the details."

"What do you want us to do right now?" I asked as he opened up the door.

"Get Chopper down here to help you look for wires or any other recording devices. I seriously doubt you'll find anything, though. Misty doesn't seem smart enough to set something like that up and keep it running."

"And none of the Devil's Rangers have ever been to this clubhouse?" I asked. We'd had a lot of parties, but Slammer was selective when it came to outsiders. That didn't mean someone couldn't have slipped in during a drunken bash. Especially with the help of Misty.

"Not that we know of," said Tank, as we followed Slammer down the hallway.

"Exactly and that's why you two need to search this place. I'll be back this afternoon. Oh, before I forget, you find out if Brandy's carrying your kid yet, Raptor?"

"Next week," I answered. Just thinking about it left a sour taste in my mouth. I wanted children someday, but not now and certainly not with Brandy. I just wanted her gone.

"You trust her?" he asked.

I laughed. "Are you fucking kidding me? Hell no."

"That's too bad. I was hoping you two were settling down now that she's pregnant. I was also hoping to use her to keep an eye on Misty. But, if you don't trust Brandy, either..."

"I don't even trust that the child she's carrying is mine."

"If it is?" he asked.

"I'll do my duty as a father and make sure I'm in its life. But I'm not getting back with her, no matter how much she wants it to happen."

"You think she got pregnant on purpose?" he asked.

"I don't think so," I replied. "At least, I hope the fuck not."

"I know you're still pissed at what she did, but do you still have feelings for her?" he asked me.

I smirked. "Only bad ones."

"He's got the hots for Krystal's best friend, Adriana," said Tank.

"That's right. The skinny redhead," replied Slammer. "That's the one you were planning on patching before you found out about the kid, right?"

"Things haven't changed. She's my Old Lady already. Just need to make it official."

He put a hand on my shoulder. "Well, looks like you've got your hands full, son."

"Yeah, but it's nothing I can't handle."

"I'm sure you can handle it fine." He looked over at Tank and then back at me. "Of course you know that we have your back, no matter what?"

"I know and I appreciate it," I answered as his cell phone began to ring.