Free Breaking The Biker (The Biker Series) - An MC Gold Vipers Motorcycle Club Biker Romance Novel by Book Cover By Design, Cassie Alexandra, K.L. Middleton

is your nephew’s address.”
    He poured himself a small shot-glass of whiskey and stared at it with a frown. “All I know is that he’s out of town.”
    “I already know that. Where out of town?”
    Sal picked up the whiskey, his hand trembling. “I’m not too sure,” he replied, before slamming it down.
    “Better?” I asked dryly.
    “You have no idea.”
    Licking my lips, I resisted an urge to pour one myself. “Raina know you have liver disease?”
    He wiped his mouth and turned back to me. “Pretty much. I told her I was waiting for my test results.”
    “You get them yet?”
    Sal shook his head. “No. But I know what it’s going to say.”
    “Then why are you still drinking?” I asked, nodding toward the bottle.
    “Guess you and I aren’t so different when it comes to living dangerously,” he said with a funny smile.
    “Maybe not,” I replied, thinking of my own many vices. 
    We were both silent for a few moments. Then he looked at me again. “Tell you what, I’ll call him and see what he knows.”
    I grunted. “I highly doubt he’d give up the information that easily and that’s why I need to talk to him face-to-face.”
    “I know why you need to speak to him face-to-face –
    you’re planning on roughing him up.”
    “Not if he gives me what I need.”
    Sal scowled at me. “I’m not going to set that up. Now look, I know he’s made some mistakes, but he’s not a killer.”
    “He wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger. Rumor has it the shooter was female.”
    His eyebrows shot up. “A woman?”
    “That’s what I hear.”
    Sal poured himself another shot. “So, some woman shot your old man. Did he do her wrong? Break her heart or beat her up?”
    “No. He was happily married and wasn’t into beating chicks.”
    He smirked. “Right. I’ve heard how you bikers treat women.”
    “Don’t be an asshole. A man doesn’t have to be a biker to beat up a woman. Just a pussy. So, quit stereotyping,” I said angrily.
    He mumbled something under his breath.
    My fist grew itchy, but I ignored it. He was an old, dying man and even I wasn’t that much of a prick. “We already know that the Devil’s Rangers set it up,” I said, changing the subject.
    “What for? A payback?”
    “You ask a lot of questions.”
    “If you want my help, you’d better answer them,” he said, looking a lot more courageous than before the booze.
    “The Devil’s Rangers are responsible for a lot of innocent lives, including Slammer’s and my girlfriend’s,” I answered coldly. “Now, I’m through with your questions. I need answers myself.”
    “Your girlfriend was murdered by that club?” he asked, looking taken aback.
    “Yes. She was young and innocent, too. They did it just to prove a point.”
    He poured himself another shot. “I guess I can see why you’re pissed off. If Cole knew they killed a young woman for spite, he wouldn’t want anything to do with them. One thing I know is that he has ethics, despite his affiliation with that damn club.”
    “Ethics, huh? Then let me talk to him so I can get the answers I need.”
    He drank the shot and slammed the glass onto the counter. “Tell me something – what are you going to do when you get ahold of this woman who supposedly shot Slammer? Kill her?”
    “To be perfectly honest, as much as I’d like to kill the bitch, I’m going to make sure that the person who ordered the hit is the one that pays.”
    He put the bottle of whiskey back into the cupboard and then reached into his pocket. Sal pulled out a pen and removed the cap. “You have a phone number where I can reach you?”
    I let out a sigh. “Sure.” I gave it to him and watched as he wrote it down on a paper napkin.
    “Now, get out of my niece’s apartment, and when I find out who’s responsible for Slammer’s death, I’ll call you.”
    “You think you can find out, just like that?” I asked, smirking.
    “I own a damn bar. I’ve got plenty of contacts who can find