Rooster and I ride up in silence most of the way. “I can’t believe you have me driving an electric fucking car.”

“What?” He shrugs. “It’s quiet. And no one would expect you to ever drive one.”

“Got that right. It’s fucking small.” My knees have been crammed into the dashboard for the entire drive.

The senator lives on the outskirts of Empire county. East of our clubhouse. No neighbors for miles. According to the cameras I placed a week ago, he’s alone. Wife left him when he first got arrested. Wonder if she ever suspected what a creep he was.

Fucker must be lonely too, if the call he placed to Loco is any indication.

Let me get out my tiny little violin.

I won’t allow this piece of shit to break her again. No one’s dragging her into court to make her look at that pathetic excuse for a man. Not after everything she’s been through and how far she’s come. How far we’ve come.

I finally have a chance to do what should’ve been done before.

We park in front of Loco’s building and I call him to let him know I’m there. He says to use the basement entrance, so that’s where we go.

Last time I was down here, we beat some members of a rival MC who was trying to push into our territory to within an inch of their lives. Good times.

At least things won’t get so messy here today. Rooster’s only planting the bomb here. We’ll set it off at the Senator’s house.

Loco meets us downstairs. “He just got here. His car’s in the garage. I’ll show you.” He gives Rooster a second look. “You ain’t blowing up my house, are you?”

“No, Loco,” I assure him.

“Let’s go. I got Malik outside the door in case he gets rough with Emilia. That happens, he’s getting a beating and tossed out. So work quick.”

Rooster gives me the side-eye and I shrug. Loco’s house, Loco’s rules. He’s doing us a huge favor. I’m not going to bitch about the conditions he puts on it.

“This is it.” He stops in front of the white Mercedes I’ve trailed a few times over the last couple weeks.

“Beautiful car.” Rooster shakes his head. “Give me five minutes.” He glances around. “You got cameras?”

“In here? Fuck no,” Loco says. “I gotta get back inside. Text me when you’re done.”

Rooster drops down to the concrete floor and scoots under the car so only his lower half is hanging out. I crouch down and hand him stuff as he asks for it while scanning the front and back doors for signs of anyone coming.

My phone buzzes.

Loco: He’s coming out in ten.

Shit. “Ten minutes, Rooster.”

“Almost done.”