Free X Marks the Spot (Executioners MC Book 1) by Kimmie Easley Page A

reflection in the dresser mirror. This day was definitely taking a toll. And after spending the entire afternoon over at the clubhouse, I just wanted a hot shower and a cold drink. Court seemed like a lifetime ago.
    Ronin sat on the couch with his heavy boots propped up on the coffee table. He was drinking a beer and scribbling in a notebook.
    “Hey, how’s everything with the boy toy?”
    I ignored him and grabbed another beer before heading to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me. Not so much to keep Ronin out, but to keep me from begging him to come in.

 
    CHAPTER TEN
    (Ronin)
    Names, aliases, dates. I jotted down every fucking possible name that I could think of that might give me a possible lead. I didn’t really give a shit about Numar’s killer. I just wanted the person for setting me up. Taking out Numar could have made the bastard a hero in my book until they went and fucked it up by stealing my gun and pinning the murder on me.
    I peered at the list. All I ended up with was a string of puzzle pieces that I couldn’t connect. It’s not easy trying to narrow down who would want to kill a cocksucker like him.
    I heard the shower water and wondered what had Jolene all worked up. For someone who was in a hurry to get back to her so-called life, she sure didn’t seem very happy.
    I was trying to figure her situation out when a loud rap on the door sent me flying to my feet. I grabbed the pistol from my duffle bag.
    “Who’s there?”
    “Man, open the fucking door and get me a beer.”
    I unlocked the bolts and swung the door open wide. “Shit, Clint. You ‘bout got a face full of lead.”
    “You mess up this face and the ladies of California will hunt you down and string you up.”
    We both chuckled as I opened up a couple of beers. “What brings you by, man?”
    “Just checking on ya. You got a shitload of problems right now, man. It’s not looking good.”
    My face twisted. “I didn’t kill Numar. Sure, if given the chance, but this wasn’t me. I’m not sloppy or stupid.”
    Clint gave a slow nod before settling back into the chair. “Yeah, I know. Told Jesse this wasn’t your work. We got your back, brother.”
    “Appreciate that, man. But I’m not involving the club, not until we find out who set me up, anyway. They got my gun, but that’s it. It’s only a matter of time before I find out who took it from the clubhouse. Then all hell’s gonna fucking break loose.”
    “To be honest, I can’t believe that we’re sitting here talking about this right now. Jo must really be a fucking puppet master or something.” Clint guzzled the beer and crossed one leg over the other.
    “Man, you should have seen her. It was fucking gold, seriously. Makes me wonder why the hell we’ve been dicking around with Sanders all these years.”
    “No shit. She probably could have gotten me off for that damn assault charge a while back. Not to mention, she’s a hell of a lot better to look at,” Clint snickered.
    “Hmm, not sure about all that, but thanks.”
    Both of us turned to find Jolene standing in the hallway. My breath stalled in my throat. She was wearing a revealing tank top with a snug pair of running shorts. Her long, wet hair fell down her back, dampening her shirt.
    “Hey, you really are babysitting!” Clint bolted form the chair and wrapped his firm arms around Jolene’s waist. “This is like old times.”
    “Shit, man, put her down before she gets air sick.”
    Clint planted Jolene back on the ground and plopped down in the chair, leaving the only other place to sit next to me on the small couch.
    “What’s this? She asked, picking up the notebook.
    “I’m trying to think of anything that might help my case.”
    Clint shook his head. “This is so fucked up.”
    I eyed Jolene as she scanned the paper.
    “First thing we need is an alibi, and to find out everyone who had access to that gun. Also, it would be great if you could quit talking about how much you wanted him