Read Online Riding Dirty by Jill Sorenson - Free Book Online

was none of Cole’s business. “Why’d you leave Dirty E?”
    “I want custody of Skye.”
    Cole imagined Ace would have a hard time convincing the courts that he was a fit parent. Being an active member of an outlaw club wouldn’t help. Neither would this run-down trailer. “Does Shawnee know that?”
    “Yes.”
    Cole didn’t envy Ace this battle. Shawnee resented Ace for taking her only daughter away. She’d fight tooth and nail to keep Skye, and she’d probably win. Unless his uncle Bill got arrested and Shawnee was implicated in the crime.
    Ace rose to grab a pack of cigarettes from his truck.
    “Are those non-nicotine?” Cole asked.
    “They’re the real deal.”
    “Give me one. I haven’t smoked in years.”
    Ace handed him a cigarette and a lighter before he sat down. “Knock yourself out.”
    Cole set the beer aside and lit up. His lungs filled with smoke and he coughed, expelling the noxious cloud.
    Ace smirked at his rookie move. “How’s it taste?”
    “Like ass.”
    “Ass tastes pretty nice, if I remember correctly.”
    “You don’t.”
    “It’s been a while,” Ace said.
    For Cole also. What he really missed was the taste of pussy, but he wasn’t averse to ass. There was no place on the female body he wouldn’t kiss. His slam-bam with Tiffany hadn’t even put a dent in his desires. He thought about Mia again, her ass bare except for lacy garters. Yeah, he’d eat that ass like a banquet.
    “I have to ask you about Roach,” Cole said, passing the cigarette to Ace. It was making him light-headed.
    Ace’s eyes became shuttered. “Okay.”
    Cole suspected that Ace knew why Rylan, aka “Roach,” had been stabbed in the badlands. Ace, Cole and Rylan had always been thick as thieves. The other Dirty Eleven guys said they hadn’t been in on the job. Rylan wouldn’t have worked with the Aryan Brotherhood on his own, without backup he could trust.
    Rising from the chair, Cole found a five-gallon bucket in the back of Ace’s truck. There was a water spigot across the street. He filled the bucket with water and set it down next to the lawn chair. Then he removed his right boot and sock, rolling his jeans up to the knee. Yesterday, he’d cut the leg off an old wetsuit he’d bought at a thrift shop. He pulled it tight over his ankle monitor to muffle any sounds. This quick fix was okay for casual conversations at the clubhouse, even his sessions with Mia. But what they were about to discuss might be life-in-prison shit.
    Cole wanted answers for himself , not the cops. He stuck his foot in the bucket. Between the wetsuit fabric and the water, any sound would be insulated. “My uncle thinks the ankle monitor could have a listening device.”
    “Can they do that?”
    “I don’t know, but I’m not taking any chances.”
    Ace pinched off his cigarette and stared into the distance. The trailer park was rustic, but it had a decent view of the Coachella Valley. “No good can come of this, Shank.”
    “That’s fine. I’ve got no good left in me.”
    “I have a daughter to consider.”
    “And I have a dead brother.”
    Ace finished his near beer and set it aside, reluctant.
    “I won’t repeat anything you say. Especially not to my uncle.”
    “How can I be sure?”
    “You’ll just have to trust me, as a friend.”
    “We’re not friends.”
    Cole just stared at him. They’d had a falling out over Courtney before Cole’s second stint in prison. Cole had asked Ace to stay away from her, but Courtney usually got what she wanted, and she’d wanted Ace. She’d been a lot like her mother. Needy, demanding, prone to excess. Ace couldn’t keep her happy, but he couldn’t seem to cut her loose, either.
    “Someone approached your uncle about the ransom job,” Ace said finally. “This guy already had a crew and everything planned. He wanted local facilitators who were familiar with the badlands. Roach and I were supposed to do a simple transfer. Pick up the cash from the kidnappers and