Gypsy's Sin [Wind Riders MC]

Chapter Six

Ernando Delvalle, felt that his luck thus far was perfect. He figured that Lakeside could not be that big of a place, so he would eventually find Gypsy, or maybe not. It didn't matter. It only mattered that he tried. The gringo was playing them. He knew it. He could feel it in his nuts.

When Gypsy pulled into the main street a few car lengths ahead of him, with another rider, who was obviously female, heading for the Farmer's Market, Ernando knew it was a sign. He was going to find something on this damn gringo today. And then, he was going to put a fucking bullet in his brain.

Looking over at his brother Ramone he said, "See, I told you we would find him. We are meant to find him."

His younger brother spotted Gypsy too, and felt it was more like a curse.

"We have checked Gypsy out Ernando," he sighed to his brother. "We have checked him out again and again. He is not a cop, has never been a cop. Military for only four years, honorable discharge, never went back. Plenty of good training, very good experience. Twenty-nine confirmed kills with almost twice as many unconfirmed. He's not even a gringo like you keep calling him. He has more Spaniard in him than you have Ernando."

Ernando was about to fire a scorching array of insults at his brother, when the phone rang. He picked it up, ready to turn it off, but saw it was Orlin calling. "Fuck," he hissed. Then answering he said "Benuo?"

"Is it good Ernando? Because I'm hearing it is not so good. Are you really in Lakeside right now, in your own truck no less, following Gypsy around and ruining his days off? Seriously? Is this what you are doing?"

Ernando looked around, wondering how that fucking gringo — and fuck what Ramone had to say about his blood — could have possibly spotted him. He was three blocks away, behind a main road with passing cars and with bushes!

"Si," he admitted, because to do otherwise simply wasn't an option.

"Then you are coming down to Mexico now. You have obviously been working too hard amigo. Come to my mother's house. Spend a few days here, clear your head. That last session was very busy, I understand, but it is time to ... how is it said? Decompress. Yes. Decompress. So, drive down here now."

"Si, Orlin," he sighed. "Maybe it is getting to me. I am on my way."

"Good. You are a good man, and a loyal one. But this stuff with Gypsy, it is too much. He's already paid his way ten times over. Just in his observations of making the landing strips, was enough to pay his way."

"Yes, but how can he know all of these things without help, and who is he getting this help from? Can he really know about landing strips and headlight covers, and transportation routes that won't have DEA crawling over them, and everything else? No, he has someone giving him this information. It's not just popping out of his skull."

"Ernando, enough! You are wearying me. He has explained all of these things, many times. He is a very good observer, and makes very good decisions on what he observes. You, are not to bother him again. Now, drive. I'll see you in two hours, no more amigo. Not a minute more."

Ernando closed the connection and saw, across the road, Gypsy, and the redheaded puta, getting back on their motorcycles. He studied her, and had a very good idea.

If you want to know a man's secrets, go to the woman, because she has been busy digging them out of him, and always knows more than the man thinks she does. Always.

Smiling he started his truck, backed out of the stall and went the opposite direction, back to the freeway. A few days of relaxation, and maybe Wednesday, yes, Wednesday would be unnoticed.