Free The Handler (Noir et Bleu Motorcycle Club #2) by D. R. Graham Page B

window until we turned the corner. She could obviously tell I was rattled, because she was quiet for the rest of the drive.
    When we arrived at the studio, she waited for the driver to get out before she asked, “What was that all about?”
    I shook my head to play it down, slid out, and held the door open for her.
    “Why did you make me leave? Did you know they were coming?”
    “I just didn’t want you to be late for the photo shoot.”
    She frowned again as if she wanted to ask more, but realized it was futile to wait for me to answer. She reluctantly followed me inside the studio.
    A team of five people surrounded her for an hour of hair, makeup, and wardrobe. While she posed for the photo shoot, I sat on a leather couch at the back of the studio thinking about what might have happened if any of them had spotted me. I was the only witness scheduled to testify against the two who were already in prison awaiting trial, and besides Liv and Huck, I was the only one who could ID the third one. We called him Fireball since I only knew what he looked like, not who he was.
    It was the first time since I’d arrived in Los Angeles that I had seen that many Boomslangs together at once. I got antsy thinking about what the Noir et Bleu would do if they found the guy. I hadn’t wanted it to go down their way because I promised Huck I wouldn’t turn into one of them, but the Noir et Bleu way of doing things was faster and more permanent than the judicial system. The photo shoot was taking forever, and I was feeling adrenalized, so I stood and paced.
    “Are you okay?” Lincoln appeared beside me and rested her hand on my back.
    “I think I need some water.”
    “Water!” she shouted and guided me to sit back on the couch. “What’s wrong?”
    I rested my elbows on my knees and rubbed my temples. “It’s complicated.” An assistant showed up with water and opened the cap for me. I drank the entire bottle at once.
    Lincoln waved the assistant away and watched me. “What’s going on?”
    “Nothing. I’m fine. You can go back to work.”
    “There’s no rush.” She bit at her lip nervously for a second, then said, “Sorry I was acting immature at the restaurant.”
    “That didn’t bother me.” To lighten the mood, I teased, “I’m used to it. I’ve got a little sister who can be a brat sometimes.”
    The teasing didn’t lighten anything. She was dead serious when she asked, “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
    Her sincerity was sweet, but I really didn’t want her to be pulled into my problems, so I said, “I’m fine. Go back to work so we can get out of here.”
    After a minute, she frowned with concern, then stood and walked back to the set. I debated about whether I should call Digger to find out if he already knew that almost the entire Boomslangs chapter was out at a public place. It wasn’t going to happen again anytime soon. If the guy was there, it wasn’t like they could walk up and kill him in front of everyone. They wouldn’t even be able to get close enough to kidnap him with his whole crew around. That was assuming he was even there.
    Fuck .
    I had no choice. Digger was the only person who would know how to handle the situation. I pulled out my phone and called Cisco. He was my contact person whenever Digger wanted to get a hold of me.
    He answered with, “What?”
    “There’s a bar called Mallory’s on Sunset you might be interested in.”
    “Do they serve Fireball whiskey?” He asked it that way because all the Noir et Bleu were paranoid of wiretaps and avoided divulging too much in phone conversations.
    “I didn’t actually see that, but I’m sure you could ask the twenty guys who are there.”
    “All right. I’ll check it out next time I’m in town.” He hung up.
    I listened to the silence, already regretting it. At least they didn’t know who they were looking for. I really didn’t want to be responsible for someone’s death, so I convinced myself if