‘I’m intrigued. See a man who can do that to three men’ – Wyatt tapped the laptop – ‘is a skilled man. A dangerous man. Usually, men like you have a reason for turning up in places like this and trust me, it ain’t for the girls. So let me make something truly clear to you…’

‘Jonathan,’ Sam answered.

‘Jonny…I will be watching you. Like I said, nothing happens in this town without my say so. If it’s Vasquez, those DEA fucks, or you’re just here to try to fuck my shit up, I’ll be watching. And the second, and I mean the very split second, you show me that reason and I don’t like it, I’ll make you scream for god himself to kill you. Do you understand?’

‘Loud and clear,’ Sam replied.

‘You’re in an extremely dangerous place.’ Wyatt finished, discarding Sam with a flick of the wrist. ‘I’ll be seeing you.’

Sykes stepped to the side, and Sam slid out of the booth. Wyatt had turned back to his drink and Sam offered a smile to Sykes who gritted his teeth in anger. With one final glance, Sam saw Alex watching in worry and as he marched towards the door, he gave her a wink to assure her he was okay. He hoped she’d come and see him, but he was well aware that he was already outstaying his welcome in the town. He pushed through the doors and marched through the rows of bikes, fully aware that Sykes had followed him to the door and was watching with violent intent as Sam made his way across the street and rounded the corner.

As the music began to die down behind him, Sam was half expecting the roar of motorcycles to follow him back to his motel. But there were none.

As he walked down the street, he began to worry just what Alex had got herself involved with. There was clearly a growing dissension between the Death Riders and this Vasquez, and she was a long way from home for it to just be a coincidence.

Why had she left the High Five for The Pit?

Judging from the state of the place and the people who frequented it, it wasn’t for the money.

Something didn’t feel right.

Lost in his own thoughts, Sam scolded himself for not noticing the van pull up alongside him, only realising as the side door flew open.

‘Get in the van.’

Sam turned to see the barrel of a Glock 17 held by a muscular man in a suit. Behind him, another man looked on with interest.

‘What now?’

Sam’s question was for no one in particular, and under the threat of the gun pointed at him, Sam stepped into the van and the door slammed shut.

Chapter Nine

Eddie Sykes was a hard man to please.